Gian Boromeo -- Rising from the ashes.

http://www.hometown.aol.com/ourdecad...urifiers01.jpg


Gian: Centuries old. A pheonix. Adores traveling, abhors making new friends. Decidedly against Valentina Moscovitz. Likes: hats, food, being reborn male, humility, blue stuff, being a pheonix, immortality, dogs, feathers, Renaissance literature and art, fire, fireworks, the sun, warm sweaters, fine wine, sense of humor, classical music, congeniality and card tricks. Dislikes: cats, snow, rain, ungrateful little bitches, recieving presents and having nothing to give in return, being cold, snow, snow, snow, snow, cigarettes, snow, being short, chapped lips, dirty fingernails, cheap cigars, losing what is his, Valentina, snow and snow.

I believe she has begun to fester in my bloodstream, slowly poisoning my rational thought and draining my body of any ounce of kindess that was once so abundant. I believe she will be the death of me. Somehow, someway, she will. Valentina has no heart with which to think, she only has her icy black soul to dictate her decisions with. I feel like I've lost my best friend in her, I feel that she has slipped so far from my fingertips that even if I pulled her back from the fire of hatred, she would be but half of a person. She draws out the worst in me, she coaxes the venom from my mouth and corners me into saying things that I don't really mean -- or maybe I do, I just never wanted to say them before.

I saw her yesterday, in Athens, showing tourists off in the wrong direction and delighting herself with people watching. I don't think she has ever looked so beautiful before and I believe she has never been quite so unhappy. My bones turn black when she begins to lay into me, accusing me of selfishness. I am selfish. I was selfish. I wanted her to be with me, I wanted her for the end of time, a soul that seemed so similiar to my own -- and she had no intentions of eternity. She had no love, she led me on as a little puppet, tricked me into believing she meant every breathy word she said. I bought her gifts, I supported her, I gave her eternal life -- and she tossed it back into my face like an ungrateful child.

I want to let her go, I want to let her settle down instead of running... but anger binds me to her now, where love once was. And my anger is all that I have. Anger and her. I cannot leave her be, I cannot let her settle down. I want her to be as unhappy as I am right now, and will be forever.

http://www.hometown.aol.com/ourdecad.../dominic63.jpg

She went to Florence. I knew she would, I knew she wouldn't stay in Venice for very long -- and I won't follow her to that city. I will never follow anyone to that city, love or not. My maker probably isn't even there anymore, but the very memory of those unchanged alleyways and the sight of those buildings that have been there even before I was born shreds my heart into tiny pieces. I hate that city. I hate what it does to me... and I hate that I can't follow Valentina there.

I think I hate her the most. Yesterday was a flawless day. There were no angry words, there was no bickering -- there was only Valentina and Gian, a shadow of the way it used to be. It was bittersweet because I know I will not catch her in the same form again for years and years. I wish she hadn't gone to Florence though, I wish she had stayed here in case her mood is the same tomorrow -- but now I will not know and my heart is no better for it.

Gian was lamenting Valentina in Venice, where he typically found himself when things became too turbulent or when he was reborn. It rejuventated him, it gave him a newfound hope that things might change at any given moment. (They never did, but the hope was something he clung to.) Even now, Venice was filling him with complacity, filling him with a sense of invincibility. He was no longer a newborn pheonix, he was no longer the little fledgling from Florence... she had no control over him now. He was centuries old, he had lived many lives and experienced many things.

But what was he thinking? Go back to Florence? Absolutely not. The city was still freshly imprinted upon his memory and that imprint alone would last him a few more decades. It was courage that usually failed him and now was no different. He would never return to that city. Not even for Valentina.

It was noon when the plane finally landed. The flight seemed longer every time he took it, though he didn't do it often. America, the good ol' U.S of A... a place that he found himself growing less and less fond of. New York City, especially. Money hungry and self absorbed, you were never the same person when you left. You would see, experience, feel, touch, smell or hear something that would forever alter your being, that would imprint itself in your memories and root deep down.

Unfortunately for Gian, it was something tangible that changed --

http://www.hometown.aol.com/ourdecad...mages/gian.jpg

And all over a silly matter of pausing for traffic. How was he supposed to know the truck didn't have good breaks?

"Excuse me, sir, you look lost..."

"I've been lost, m'am... but you can't give me any direction."

At least he was tall again.

I followed her again because I had to. I knew she would be lost, I knew Nayana would be hard to track... I didn't know that Valentina would be so grateful. It caught me offguard, as things that she does generally do, but this time was odd... even for us. She hugged me. She didn't realize she was doing it, but she did. In moments like that, I feel the woman I had loved once upon a time, though they are fleeting at best.

I promise myself that, even in being in Egypt, there will be no contact with Nayana. I will not see her. But I fear that the inevitable may be mounting against me, especially as my need to be near Valentina grows more evident with each passing day. I won't be able to avoid her forever, she will not stay in Egypt long. Perhaps like a temporary retirement, but not for long. Though, for my sake, I do hope she stays tucked away in the sands of this god foresaken country. I hate it here. I hate it. The only good thing about it is the sun, the lack of snow and the pyramids. I find them fascinating.

I feel as though I should not have come. Maybe I should have just kept content in the flat in New York, busied myself with another creature that wouldn't betray me as Valentina has done. And yet, here I am. Following her like a lost pup, trying to regain any emotion to stimulate devotion that I can. I know it's useless, I know it's stupid.

...but I can't help but hope.

After a particularly painful death, which involved the heartless vampire brood and their scathing teeth, the phoenix found that it's new body was less than appealing:

http://www.hometown.aol.com/iostcolor/images/0124.jpg

Even appalling. And Gianna wanted to die. Be it painful or otherwise. It was the anger that seethed through every pore on this disgusting new body -- wasn't Valentina do for a new one too? Maybe she'd be coming along for this next ride.

http://www.hometown.aol.com/iostcolor/images/0033.jpg

This time... I don't even want to discuss what happened. I've never died in such a grotesque way before and I hope to never do so again. It was the worst, by far. A punishment, from some higher force, I think. But this body is better, perhaps the fair retribution I deserve after such an experience. I will be more careful with this one. I like it.

Valentina, however, can fend for herself from now on. I am through chasing that ungrateful little wench, I am through wondering if she's all right.

I am going back to Venice.

He tried to ignore her. He tried to pretend that she didn't exist anymore. But she made it so hard, torturing him into a mess of primal angst. Gian did the only thing that came naturally to him (after a night of near-death battle with Valentina had resulted in very little) he wrote a letter.


Valentina-
My patience with you has frayed, any love that I once had is lost. It took me this long to realize that you really do not love me and you never will, it took me this long to realize that I should give in to the facts. I've finally collapsed under their weight and I hope you're happy now. If we pass eachother someday, don't open your mouth or say anything you don't mean to say. I don't want to hear it, I don't want to even be near it. I won't track you down and I won't fan the smoldering ashes of a fire long dead. I hope you're happy. I am. I've found another to share myself and my gift with...one who'll appreciate it for what it is and me for who I am. I hope you find the same someday.
- Gian.


Maybe it wasn't an entirely true letter, but he supposed it would do the trick. She always came back to Venice eventually.

http://www.hometown.aol.com/iostcolor/images/gian.jpg

You were laying on the carpet
like you're satin in a coffin.
You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"
Yeah right now, but not that often.

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God I sure hope you are dead.

Well you disappeared so often
like you dissolved into coffee.
Are you here right now
or are there probably fossils under your meat?

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God I sure hope you are dead.

Now the blow's been softened,
since the air we breathe's our coffin.
Well now the blow's been softened,
since the ocean is our coffin.
Often times you know our laughter
is your coffin ever after
And you know the blow's been softened,
since the world is our coffin.
Well now the blow's been softened
since we are our own damn coffins.

Well everybody's talkin' about their short lists...
Everybody's talkin' about death.

You were laying on the carpet
like you're satin in a coffin.
You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"
Yeah right now, but not that often.

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
Are you dead or are you sleepin'?
God, I sure hope you are dead.

Would you even recogize me now, silly Valentina? Or have you forgotten all that we've shared...

I think you have.

I was content to sit and wait and let you come to me. I was fine when you fled; every fucking time you fled. I was fine when you returned, if only it be to hurl insults and make sure I hadn't fallen off of the face of the Earth. I'm even fine now, Valentina, after you've left me again. The only problem right now is that I'm not ready to go back to playing that game. I'm not going to allow you to make a fool of me as you have so many times before. I will follow you, Valentina, to the ends of the Earth. I will protect you as I have in the past and I will continue to do so for eternity.

Through all of this, I think you've forgotten that I own you. Funny thing, isn't it? You owe your life to me, you owe me your love and you think I'm unworthy. Perhaps you were unworthy of my blood in the first place, that has yet to be determined. I only hope that you come to your senses before it's too late.

I only hope you weren't foolish enough to think that I have forgotten. I have not. I will not. If you wish to make me into a monster, I will become the monster. If you choose to run, I will give you something to run from. I'm tired of playing your pet, trying to chase you down and not be abandoned. For all my weaknesses, Valentina, you were always the worst.

But I am no weak man. This isn't blood that burns in my veins for you, it's fire.

http://pictures.greatestjournal.com/...3665211/408269

I think that you forget, nightingale, that I am no man at all.

<font color="#FFFFFF" size="1">[ March 31, 2005 11:06 AM: Message edited by: a beautiful letdown ]</font>

<div style="text-align: center;">http://www.ananova.com/images/news/b...ers247x500.jpg</div>

[i]Why do I do it? Why do I bother? It must be my divine punishment, I don't know.

My leg will heal, I know... it's already much better than it was a few hours ago, but these wounds from vampires always take a little more time than most. I hate them. Speaking of hatred, I have to wonder how long it will be before Valentina tries to drown me. She always tries eventually. I think I get on her nerves -- imagine that.

Of all the things that I have been through for Valentina, with Valentina, I find her more placeted than usual this time. Perhaps she really feared for her life, I'm not sure -- I know that we are co-existing better than ever we had before and it's kind of disheartening. Maybe I am going to wake up from this funny little dream and be stuck in some seedy little room in Prague with a prostitute, bottle of Stoli and a shotgun in my mouth. That might actually be the optimistic side of my waking, come to think of it.

A train, a fucking train, on my way to Prague of all places. Prague. I loathe that city, I loathe it's people and I loathe any fabric, scrap, hair or piece of dust that originates there...

God, I hate today, but I hope it never fucking ends. I can't stand to see her look at me with contempt for one more second. I just can't.