:v e i s y s:
I watched him dress, minutely amused by the small but futile protest he had put up against what they must have cost. A fortune â yes, they really had. That material wasn't just something you pick up in the bargin bin â it had to be very carefully tailored and handled with extreme caution. After it was finished, it needed to be sprayed with a certain colourless resin and hung up to dry for a week before being washed in ice cold water and folded in a precise way. The resin helped to strengthen the fibres of the fabric, and keep them intact during washings. The only drawback was that if it was treated too roughly, it would still tear easily, and it had to be washed in cold water to keep the resin from washing off. Depending on how it was treated, the fabric needed a new coat of resin every six to eight weeks, to keep it from drying out. The only win on buying such an expensive cloth was the way it looked â absolutely angelic. But, it couldn't be retailored, so if it didn't fit after having it custom made, you had to start all over again.
I was happy that it fit him, and smiled to show him so. When he thanked me, it brightened exponentially. "I'm glad you like it! It looks perfect on you; though I must warn you to be very careful with it. This type of silk isn't easily repaired... or at all for that matter. So, it doesn't go outside whatsoever. I'll have your own clothing brought down for wash, and if you wish to leave the palace, you can borrow something of mine." Then, I paused, and in that moment decided something. I didn't know anything about Taki except that he was the owner of the most beautiful set of silver wings, and that he was my Pet.... It wasn't right.
"Kiki, can you tell me something?" I asked, making my way back to the loveseat I had previously occupied. I didn't exactly wait for him to answer before I continued, but I knew he wouldn't mind. "You're a Demon, aren't you? How did you get here?" And then I realized... if he thought he was being forced to tell me, then he might think that he was always being forced to do things, whether he liked it or not. So, I softened up my voice and added, "But you don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable with it. At your own pace, alright? And after, you can ask me anything you want to know about myself. Okay?"
----------------------------------
:y o n a:
Another migrane. Coupled with the pain that erupted through my chest everytime I took a breath, this was untainted agony, like pure unbridled fury in physical form. I took a deep breath, held it, closed my eyes and bore the pain. Having snuffed the light-providing candles out long ago, I lay in the darkness, groaning lightly with the sheer burning of whatever I had done to myself. On the first few test runs, I thought it would work; but this was so much different from what I had recorded with the lower class Vampires that it couldn't possibly be taking the same effect. No, it absolutely wasn't. This was so far off that I might have done something wrong in the preparation, or perhaps had carried out the wrong procedure entirely. But that just wasn't something I would do. There was no way I could have fluked on this, because it was my own work. The only logical explanation was that the additives reacted differently with my Pure Blood.
Whatever the case, it was almost unbearably painful, and I felt tears streaking down my cheeks. Or was it sweat? I couldn't tell the difference. I just hoped that Baam had done as I asked her and went inform the others of my arrival. I was more than certain that this would recede by the time she came to fetch me for dinner, and then I wouldn't have to worry.... At least, though, I knew that my migrane had nothing to do with the test. Migranes had been a regular feature of my life for hundreds of years now, and I was finally beginning to accept that there was nothing I could do to stop them. I had tried creating several different medications to halt them in their tracks, but everything only quelled them for the moment, and they returned full-strength later on. Sometimes that day, or maybe in a few days. Sometimes I went months without a migrane. Those were the treasured months of peace that I practically begged for these days. It seemed like I had suffered a migrane every day that week, and the week before.
Whatever was happening to my body slowly was taking over. I could feel it as the pain began to lessed, breath by agonizing breath, and I rested my head on a thick goosefeather pillow, breathing hard. My chest heaved, my head pounded, my body pulsed, and I was sweating hard still. It would all be over soon. I let my eyes slip closed, and I tried to lighten my breathing so that it wasn't so loud to my already sensitized hearing.... Science was pain. Pain was discovery, invention, and inspiration.
I was definitely figuring that out the hard way.
I watched him dress, minutely amused by the small but futile protest he had put up against what they must have cost. A fortune â yes, they really had. That material wasn't just something you pick up in the bargin bin â it had to be very carefully tailored and handled with extreme caution. After it was finished, it needed to be sprayed with a certain colourless resin and hung up to dry for a week before being washed in ice cold water and folded in a precise way. The resin helped to strengthen the fibres of the fabric, and keep them intact during washings. The only drawback was that if it was treated too roughly, it would still tear easily, and it had to be washed in cold water to keep the resin from washing off. Depending on how it was treated, the fabric needed a new coat of resin every six to eight weeks, to keep it from drying out. The only win on buying such an expensive cloth was the way it looked â absolutely angelic. But, it couldn't be retailored, so if it didn't fit after having it custom made, you had to start all over again.
I was happy that it fit him, and smiled to show him so. When he thanked me, it brightened exponentially. "I'm glad you like it! It looks perfect on you; though I must warn you to be very careful with it. This type of silk isn't easily repaired... or at all for that matter. So, it doesn't go outside whatsoever. I'll have your own clothing brought down for wash, and if you wish to leave the palace, you can borrow something of mine." Then, I paused, and in that moment decided something. I didn't know anything about Taki except that he was the owner of the most beautiful set of silver wings, and that he was my Pet.... It wasn't right.
"Kiki, can you tell me something?" I asked, making my way back to the loveseat I had previously occupied. I didn't exactly wait for him to answer before I continued, but I knew he wouldn't mind. "You're a Demon, aren't you? How did you get here?" And then I realized... if he thought he was being forced to tell me, then he might think that he was always being forced to do things, whether he liked it or not. So, I softened up my voice and added, "But you don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable with it. At your own pace, alright? And after, you can ask me anything you want to know about myself. Okay?"
----------------------------------
:y o n a:
Another migrane. Coupled with the pain that erupted through my chest everytime I took a breath, this was untainted agony, like pure unbridled fury in physical form. I took a deep breath, held it, closed my eyes and bore the pain. Having snuffed the light-providing candles out long ago, I lay in the darkness, groaning lightly with the sheer burning of whatever I had done to myself. On the first few test runs, I thought it would work; but this was so much different from what I had recorded with the lower class Vampires that it couldn't possibly be taking the same effect. No, it absolutely wasn't. This was so far off that I might have done something wrong in the preparation, or perhaps had carried out the wrong procedure entirely. But that just wasn't something I would do. There was no way I could have fluked on this, because it was my own work. The only logical explanation was that the additives reacted differently with my Pure Blood.
Whatever the case, it was almost unbearably painful, and I felt tears streaking down my cheeks. Or was it sweat? I couldn't tell the difference. I just hoped that Baam had done as I asked her and went inform the others of my arrival. I was more than certain that this would recede by the time she came to fetch me for dinner, and then I wouldn't have to worry.... At least, though, I knew that my migrane had nothing to do with the test. Migranes had been a regular feature of my life for hundreds of years now, and I was finally beginning to accept that there was nothing I could do to stop them. I had tried creating several different medications to halt them in their tracks, but everything only quelled them for the moment, and they returned full-strength later on. Sometimes that day, or maybe in a few days. Sometimes I went months without a migrane. Those were the treasured months of peace that I practically begged for these days. It seemed like I had suffered a migrane every day that week, and the week before.
Whatever was happening to my body slowly was taking over. I could feel it as the pain began to lessed, breath by agonizing breath, and I rested my head on a thick goosefeather pillow, breathing hard. My chest heaved, my head pounded, my body pulsed, and I was sweating hard still. It would all be over soon. I let my eyes slip closed, and I tried to lighten my breathing so that it wasn't so loud to my already sensitized hearing.... Science was pain. Pain was discovery, invention, and inspiration.
I was definitely figuring that out the hard way.