-
He did not blindly obey the future; he made the future.
Sinjin took life by the balls and made it scream; he he painted the horizon with sharp reds and chemical yellows. He wasn't anything Rhy'din hadn't seen -- he was barely tolerable as it was -- but he took it all in like the grinning fool he was. Filled with crude humor and a growing dislike of the world and its general population, he compensated with psuedo-manners and falling into one of Rhy'din's most popular cliches; he survived by blending. However, there were jagged lines to his personality that no amount of blending could hide.
http://www.hometown.aol.com/wakeupca...ges/sincig.jpg
He was twenty-eight, a rabid alcoholic and had his fingers dipped into every life he could find: there were few ways to hide from Sinjin Fai. He was dead, in several senses of the word, and had been for years but he openly embraced it. He stole pieces of everyone he admired and pushed them into himself; if there was a real Sinjin anymore, he was buried under a million people and smiles.
He had been engaged twice in his life, married once, and divorced once; he had one living sister and at least one dead parent; his best friend was a fallen angel-- Sin's story was typical to Rhy'din and he openly admitted it, there was no point in denying. Sin was the embodiment of Rhy'din and Rhy'din loved him for it.
Really now-- who couldn't love Sinjin Fai?
http://www.hometown.aol.com/wakeupca...ges/sinhat.jpg
-
Upon listening to the message, Sin laughed like a banshee.
Slumped against the wall of the alley with low chuckles still chiming from his mouth, he flipped his cellphone shut. "Fuck," he snickered out. "Fuck, fuck. I love this game." The kindred, they avoided him; the undead king, sunk deep within the grimy passages of Rhy'din that were his palace, his cityscape world. He spoke with himself, curling wisps of dark words; he laughed with himself, he killed with himself. Sin was -- or tried to be -- a person before a vampire, but the Ravnos rules Sin's system just as he ruled Rhy'din's dark sectors.
"I love this fucking game," he repated to the stale air. He prowled the streets as he spoke; the shadows clung to him like desperate little fingers, cold and inviting. A catholic church, gothic in design, towered somberly in the horizon of concrete jungle. "I write the rules; I have all four aces up my sleeve and I have a full house in my hand-- a full fucking house. Welcome to my game, Bjorn," he cried out to the graffiti-covered walls. "Welcome to my game; perhaps I will help you fold your cards so you can play a different game, but for now you're on my table and the stakes are high-- huh! Stakes."
The church loomed before him like some hateful work of steel and spirit, writhing and hissing soundlessly at the forsaken creature before it. Sin smiled something vicious in the dark. "My game," he murmured. "My rules."
<center>http://www.josephrenzi.com/holiday%2...c%20Church.jpg</center>
<font color="#FFCC00" size="1">[ March 02, 2005 09:27 AM: Message edited by: que sera sera ]</font>
-
<center>
when the slumber of forever's called me home
i will not be gone, oh no you'll never be alone
my words will come to you cross time and space
you'll know where to find me and i'll be there
i'll be there
listen to the winds at night--
you may hear me call your name.
i once felt so alone but now i'm home,
and i know that there is something beyond.
the words i speak today shall outlive me.
i call on forces that send chills down your spine
for i long to drink of immortality
of this nighttime stars, they speak to me.
for we all shall someday part the veil,
and cross through to the other side.
in one way or another, i shall live on and never die.
in death as in life-- i will arise.
never die!
all hail the darkness, in her majestic glory.
she was always my true love, i never quite belonged here.
though i've fallen so far from grace,
please will you keep me in your memory
and a little place for me in your hearts?
eternal soul-- never die.
http://www.zimp.net/photos/cig.jpg
( "never die" -- tiger army )
</center>
<font color="#FFCC00" size="1">[ March 03, 2005 06:56 AM: Message edited by: que sera sera ]</font>
-
He had a gun to his head. It was something completely unexpected.
In Sin's life, that was saying a lot. He was twenty-eight and had seen life inside and out-- so to be caught completely by surprise was more fun than terror. Smiling pleasently behind his desk with the handgun aimed directly at his skull, Sin raised his eyebrows. "Well, hi there. Can I help you?"
The man before him, a bulky italian with his hair slicked back and his sunglasses up replied in a hoarse murmur. "Yeah. I'm looking for a guy named Tohias. They say you know where I can find him."
The spaniard's eyebrows lifted further; he grinned. "You're pretty ballsy, you know. Strut up here into my club, point a gun at my head and ask for names that-- fuck if I've ever heard of. You do know the origins of this club-- right?"
The other man cocked his head with a grin that mimicked Sin to the opposite angle. "These are armor-tipped explosive bullets, body. I don't care what you are, they'll kill you. Where's Tohias?"
"Ballsy!" Sin repeated again, making a pleased noise. "Very ballsy. What do you need Tohias for? I'm his confidant, you know-- I have to be careful about this."
"Confidant, huh," the italian murmured. "Good enough."
Sin had no time to react before the man pulled the trigger.
-
Sin awoke with a splitting headache; he was not surprised.
His vision was blurry and now flawed: the world held no color for him, only blacks, whites, and grays. However, he did not need color to recognize the taste of blood in the air. There, offered out before him by a gloved hand, was a medical bag of blood. Sin hissed and lurched forward, snatching it from the hand and tearing into the plastic with his teeth. Ravenous was an understatement.
"Easy now, easy," a rough voice soothed from off to the side. "That isn't human blood. The tranqs messed with your brain, you need to recover."
The Ravnos in Sin eased down into a dull thrum, satisfied (only to a point) with the stale blood. He licked his lips and observed the situation. The room was dark and heavy with moisture-- a basement, he guessed, judging by the windows near the ceiling. The smell of cheap cologne over-powered that of mold, the same italian from before standing above him with the same sunglasses and the same displeased smile. The spaniard wrinkled his nose and allowed himself to relax. "You lied."
The italian smiled thinly. "I did. Can't waste armor tipped bullets on cheap vampires. You're not who I'm after, hombre."
"Apparently." He didn't finish off the blood in the medical bag as he became slowly aware what it really was; he slumped back, rubbing his temple. "Where'd you get demon blood from?"
"I'm a hunter, Mr. Fai."
The spaniard let out a peel with laughter, rubbing his eyes. "That's fuckin' hilarious. A demon hunter who struts into a vampiric club, looking for a human, and bringing back an undead king. Christ man, you need to get a new gig."
"Tohias had a connection with a demon I'm looking for. And you, supposedly, have a connection with Tohias."
Sin snorted and shook his head, attempting to stand. "Tohias is dead. He's been dead for months. And demons-- how many demons are in Rhy'din? You don't have a chance in hell of finding a specific one, hunter."
The man cocked his head to one side; his grin was disturbing at best. "I'll find him-- and I don't trust you either. I'll be keeping an eye on you, Ravnos. But maybe we can help eachother out. You ever heard the name Revolution?"
Sin snorted. Motherfucking idiot-- "Shitty name for a demon.But what the hell do I get out of finding him for you?"
"Father Keys on a platter."
"Tch. I don't give a damn about the Catholic church. You find something worth my while, we'll talk. Until then, you can find this demon on your own. Shooting a guy in the head isn't the best way for an introduction."
"Try m--" The italian's mouth snapped shut; Sin disappeared and left a wisp of moisture in the air. He turned to observe the cracked open basement window. "Fuckin' Ravnos.."
-
<center>Que bonitos ojos tienes
Debajo de esas dos cejas
Debajo de esas dos cejas
Que bonitos ojos tienes.
Ellos me quieren mirar
Pero si tu no los dejas
Pero si tu no los dejas
Ni siquiera parpadear.
Malaguena salerosa
Besar tus labios quisiera
Besar tus labios quisiera.
Malaguena salerosa
Y decirte nina hermosa.
Que eres lin.. da y hechicera,
Que eres linda y hechicera
Como el candor de una rosa.
Si por pobre me desprecias
Yo te concedo razon
Yo te concedo razon
Si por pobre me desprecias.
Yo no te ofrezco riquezas
Te ofrezco mi corazon
Te ofrezco mi corazon
A cambio de mi pobreza.
Malaguena salerosa
Besar tus labios quisiera
Besar tus labios quisiera.
Malaguena salerosa
Y decirte nina hermosa.
Que eres lin.. da y hechicera,
Que eres linda y hechicera
Como el candor de una rosa.
Y decirte nina hermosa.
http://www.hometown.aol.com/wakeupcail/images/sin2.jpg
</center>
-
The revolution had begun: Sin watched the night-kingdom crumble.
The spaniard observed the on-goings at Ambrosia with lingering cursiosity; he settled in further to his personal booth and watched the crowd part for the violent outbreak that was beginning to occur more often. He had no mind to intervene and everyone knew it-- he ran the night as a loose anarchy, but even Sin had his limits. He heard the whisper of voices near his ear.
"We hear," the voices hissed, somewhat together, "that poor Sinjin Fai is losing the last threads of his sanity."
"Oh, I lost those a long time ago--" Sin grinned like a madman on the run and didn't bother to turn around. "This isn't your territory, kids-- I don't like playing with demons."
"Nor do we enjoy lowering myself to your level of filth," they muttered and writhed in the shadows behind Sin. "Howeverrrrrr, however, until you tell us where the halfling is -- we know, we know that you know, sinner-- this place is our's."
"Isn't that super." Sin hid his scowl away and replaced it with a brilliant smile that even the shadows shrunk from. "Well, have fun with the place-- be sure to pay the electric bills, I haven't done that yet."
It was hard to tell if the demon was surprised or not; in either case, the spaniard departed and left a lingering message for the other kindred: stay away.
<center>http://people.freenet.de/9dw-fanpage/ioff/demon.jpg</center>
-
"Sometimes," Sin began, rolling the cigar between his teeth, "Sometimes I wonder whether it's me that attracts trouble or if it's trouble that attracts me."
The expanding morning opened like a flower before the sinner; it was difficult to remember whether he had slept at all, where the dream ended and where the fringes of reality began to touch his mind. It was still cool out, the wind pushing out from the sea and onto his porch to carry his scent elsewhere into the world-- the spaniard was content to sit, smoke, and talk to himself. It was fast becoming a morning ritual.
"At least it all makes sense now," he mused aloud. "The hellhounds, Salvador, Kymeera, Faye-- it's all connected. And then, there's you.." The spaniard observed, with quiet reverence, the stone in the palm of his hand which glittered dully in the morning light. It radiated warmly with some hidden magic. "And what, I wonder, am I going to do with you.."
<center>http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v1...ief/spirit.jpg</center>
