Marius I
New Member
Wandering Historian
Posts: 29
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Post by Marius I on May 5, 2008 6:03:09 GMT 1
about the act of writing, of sitting down with the express purpose of communicating. It is the only act in which one can be both completely alone yet have company. In this case, the company is everyone at this forum, including some much beloved to me. I am glad to return to them, and hope in turn that they will be happy to see me.
I would say how much I have missed some of you, but there are not words enough.
I'm sure I shall carve out, as I have in every city of which I've been fond, a nice little niche for myself. I've noticed that I'm rambling, borrowing too many words to say a very simple thing: I am happy to be here.
-M.
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Post by Gabrielle de Lioncourt on May 5, 2008 6:26:06 GMT 1
Ah my dear friend Marius.....it is so kind of you to join us here in our little corner of that which is known as Cyberworld. Our coven is at this time hither and thither. Lestat and Louis as always linger and meander as only they can do, but fear not for I'm sure they will make their presence known as soon as they hear word that our Marble God has arrived to thrill us with a Millenia of tales as only you can!
My dear Marius, (((looks about slyly)))) I see that your adornment Pandora is nowhere about? ((((smiles wickedly))))
Ahem....
Please make yourself at home! Make for yourself a Palazzo if you will! You will find that we fill our threads with pictures of our homes, so please....feel free to find yourself a home in any of our threads. You can always jump from thread to thread as storylines progress.
Also, Please feel free to make use of our Colliseum, we tend to spend allot of time there in between storylines. WELCOME TO THE FORUM!!!!
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Marius I
New Member
Wandering Historian
Posts: 29
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Post by Marius I on May 5, 2008 7:04:12 GMT 1
'Marble God' -- A woman so stunning as yourself, in both mind and form, should not feel the need to compliment me in this way, Gabrielle. Your presence is no less impressive than my own.
As for Pandora, I must say, she would be much affronted by the term 'adornment.' She is not some pretty creature forever hanging upon my arm. She is a spirited, adventurous woman - something I imagine you can appreciate - and is quite beyond playing the part of stunned groupie. Pandora loves me, but she knows me far too well to be astounded by me any longer.
I will make sure to investigate the places you have mentioned, and make myself at home there. Thank you for your warm welcome.
-M.
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Post by Lestat II on May 7, 2008 21:48:37 GMT 1
Marius,
Ah, good. You've come at the right moment. I'm afraid I've been trapped in a a tedious boredom that could only be described as Davidity. Write a new rule book. Give me something to break. How I ache for the delicious snap of good will crumble to my insatiable curiosity.
For the love of all things right, let me do wrong.
-L.
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Post by Santino 1 on May 8, 2008 3:13:25 GMT 1
Well my good and ancient "friend" Marius....so we meet again in this dark realm known as cyber space. Indeed Marius, I am once again alive and well....you do not for a minute think that I, the former Master of the Children of Darkness could be taken from this forsaken life so easily? As they say in cyber space...pfffft!!!! No "dearest friend of mine" ((((smiles sarcastically!)))) I think not! But let us not fret over such trivial things such as my return, for there are much bigger fish to fry! Much bigger, taller, leaner.....green eyed, long dark haired fish to fry! Ah yes....it has been awhile since I have had the delectable taste of creole on my tongue and upon my teeth! Please my wise old friend, allow me to welcome you to this our new home. ((((grins wickedly)))
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Marius I
New Member
Wandering Historian
Posts: 29
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Post by Marius I on May 12, 2008 0:20:58 GMT 1
Marius,
Ah, good. You've come at the right moment. I'm afraid I've been trapped in a a tedious boredom that could only be described as Davidity. Write a new rule book. Give me something to break. How I ache for the delicious snap of good will crumble to my insatiable curiosity.
For the love of all things right, let me do wrong.
-L. Do not fault David for your boredom. There seems something unfair in that. As for letting you do wrong, you officially have my permission to do whatever wrong you like to Santino. I would not usually and in obvious words give you a blank check, as it were, but this time you are allowed to do as you please. Have fun. -M.
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Post by Gabrielle de Lioncourt on May 12, 2008 1:03:01 GMT 1
ooc.
I just wanted to let you know that the writing sample in your bio was just great!
If no one else has read it, please read below, it's written as a ficlet.
Marius,
He seems as if he is not aware that I watch him. In truth, he may not be - he moves about the table, his actions pre-meditated and decisive as he creates his miniscule world. It has gotten larger, and seems to grow every time that I venture downstairs to see it and him. It may absorb him, this artistic endeavor, but it will not absolve him. Would that he could know that now.
I look at Daniel Molloy, and see the shadow of my own mistakes. I am his grandfather in the Blood, and feel parental only because he who could be called his father, was not. It seemed more likely that it was Armand's decision that they parted, as I have not yet met one upon this diverse planet who could easily walk away from Armand. If Daniel did, perhaps that explains the perpetual unease with which he carries himself.
His hair is the color of sand, his eyes like gems, his hands at once calloused with his mortal age yet and so graceful in their delectation over the little houses. He does not in these moments realize his own power, if ever he does.
"Are you hungry?" I ask him simply as I stand with my back to the doorjamb, having gotten comfortable whilst observing him.
He seems not to hear me.
"Daniel, are y-"
"No. I'm all good." His fingers clasp a tiny brush and its strokes turn a small barnhouse the most vibrant red. Same shade as one of the settees upstairs, and as my silk shirt that I'm wearing now. My thoughts are scattered when I watch him.
I would not say that I regret making Armand. But I regret that I was not able to save him from becoming the quality of creature that he became, such that would let this obviously desperate man wither. Mortal or immortal, Daniel had a habit of withering, and seemed somehow quite used to it, almost as if he enjoyed it.
I watch him for a few minutes more, and turn to go.
He could do with his immortality what he liked, as I'd been doing for centuries, and would continue to do for several more.
I set out upon the city to wait for someone, something, anything that could capture my attention, force me to fall as interestedly and devotedly as Daniel had into his little city. Ah, but there was some envy in observing his obliviousness. A wish to be that easily entertained, perhaps. I had not ever been such, but often longed for such prolonged enjoyment of the simple pleasures. It was a case of analysis paralysis.
Had I the chance, and were it not so very rude, I might ask Armand what the hell he was thinking, in turning Daniel. But I never would, because I knew exactly the answer: he hadn't. He had acted on emotion alone, which I had done once with him. And, as in mortal life, nothing ever quite fulfilled the hopes you had for it. The grass is always greener, etc.
I sigh, and am almost embarrassed at this evening's abundance of melancholy. It was not so much the melancholy I minded, but that I could not pinpoint truly the source of it. These thoughts kept me from having a more interesting evening than Daniel was having, kept me from mortal company and a seduction of sorts, the hunt for the Little Drink. These thoughts would be the death of me.
Ah. If only.
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