Daphne Cochran-Shapiro » roleplay

Messing around

Daphne — Sat, 18 Feb 2012 05:26:16 +0000

with various things…from Magix/Xara Photo & Graphic Designer 7 to roleplay writing in PanHistoria and BardicWeb to general creative stuff here and there. not to mention my regular job. *g*

was putzing around in Magix Music Maker tonight and threw this together, though not done or mastered:

listen at SoundCloud: Danger Zone

be gentle…I’m a novice composer *lol*

Daphne Cochran-Shapiro is an Author & Poet, Designer & Crafter, and Entrepreneur who specializes in working with folks needing design assistance. My goal is to empower you to be the best you can be in ALL your endeavors. I invite you to browse my sites and share your comments on my works!

a beginning…again

Daphne — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 14:18:23 +0000

Her long black hair danced in the summer winds, but all her emanations were winter incarnate. I shivered, both fascinated and repelled. This nameless girl was a new student at the boarding school my family had exiled me to. It was only happenstance that we encountered each other at that moment. Or was it?

She stood before me, like a queen, cold and dire. But her eyes….her eyes…. My bones melted into nothing, and I knew this girl could demand of me anything she so desired. A wrench of will to look away. And the pain of that tore my heart. I looked to see if there was another soul upon the steps of the school library. One glance showed me we were alone.

One imperious queen, one shivering child.

Her hand beckoned me towards her side, but how her eyes drew me. There are no words to encompass such delicious fear and desire.

We began to walk towards the gardens at the side of the school. My blood ran as cold as her hand, which reached to hold mine with utmost dominion.

I recall questioning her, hesitant words dropping from my lips. She would only say, with her onyx eyes wavering between scorn and passion, “You are mine now.”

A heady terror. It engulfed me so entirely I almost wrenched my hand from her’s to flee. She seemed to sense that terror, whereupon a calm would fill me, as completely as the terror had.

Reaching a small grove, she turned towards me, my terror blooming again so that I almost fell at her feet in anguish.

She reached for me and held my shuddering body close. No warmth. Only the terror and the desire for something beyond my reach. With one firm move she slid her lips upon my neck and bit hard, deep. I cried out in pain! But there was no escape. Then, or now.

That day I died. That day I felt the curse of the Dark Lady descending upon me, as I died, and yet was reborn. Into what I could only speculate. Months would pass as I came to understand what I had been transformed into….a vampire. The Undead. A cursed being of deadly desire.

Oh, Mother! You would weep tears of horror, loss and despair if you knew what I have become!

A hundred years I have been this creature of blood-death. I am damned. The thirst for blood has doomed me to this life. My Maker, may she be cursed beyond eternity!, has chosen me to follow her path. I am her heir….but, I am nothing. Nothing of the Light. Nothing of the Divine. Nothing of Love. My heart is icen granite. My only comforts are blood, dark nights, dreams of life that bear no fruit.

And yet….and yet! Hope remains that one day this burdensome curse will be lifted from my soul. Till then I pray to the Dark Lady to gift me my freedom. Dare you wonder that I pray? Me, a vampire? With my kiss of death upon you, you will wonder no longer. You may pray, simply, to die.

Immortal. Broken and bound. Blood, the binding.

I decided it was time to find others of my kind. To understand more fully what I am. So many long years I searched, travelling Europe, the Far East, even unto the Americas. The trail of bodies behind me were a testament to hunger and hatred, dread and desire, pain and passion. Of myself. Of the mortals I drained of blood to satiate my desire. Of my Maker. (But, of her, I will speak no more.)

I found them when I returned to Europe, even more cold and despairing than before. Discovered them at a most miserable and dank place called Drakesheath Hall. Whether I will learn anything of import is still to be seen. The hope remains, damned or redeemed. One body to die in agonized terror, one despairing wail to echo into the shadows of the night. I pray I will find answers at Drakesheath Hall.

~from a roleplay at AncientWorlds

A Journey to Avalon

Daphne — Fri, 14 May 2010 20:41:09 +0000

Arianrhod

Arianrhod would not speak to anyone in her household for three days. She roamed the halls and wide balconies of her caer with a stern look which clearly showed that anyone who spoke to her would be harshly dealt with. The servants hid or ran whenever they saw her. Experience had taught them the folly of being near her when she was in a such a mood. Gwen, Maelen and Elen, her sisters, also had the terrifying experience of being on Arianrhod’s wrong side. Yet, they loved her; so they followed her with their eyes, worrying their concern between them with quiet nods and raised eyebrows.

What none knew, what she kept from them, was the disturbing nature of her dreams of late. For under moonlight and starlight, while she slept in her private chambers, the Goddess was calling her. As the night hours passed, she struggled and battled in sleep, feeling as a wave pounded upon the rough rocks. Sun’s rise found her awake but limp with exhaustion and furious at the call that she fought nightly with all her might.

She would not go to Avalon! It served no purpose that she could encompass. Whyever would the Goddess call her there? Did she not have her own caer to mind, her own peoples whom depended on her, witless sisters who were without any ability to make sound decisions? Those simple priestesses of Avalon could teach her nothing she did not already know. As a child, her mother and father had schooled her thoroughly more than just in the ways of Avalon; they had taught her all they knew of the Mysteries.

Arianrhod stormed out to her private balcony and took in deep breaths of the salt air; she tried to calm herself, rubbing her face to ease the stiff muscles. It seemed ages since she had smiled. The sea below was rising swiftly with the incoming tide. Froths of spray and foam mingled with the winds; rainbows danced in and out of the sunlight. She sighed tiredly. It was so achingly beautiful she did not want to leave. But as the tide was relentless in its force so was the Goddess. And Arianrhod knew she no longer had the strength to fight the tide, to deny the call. She glanced at the skies above– gray eyes reflecting the clouds, her face settling into acceptance. Her hands moved restlessly in a gesture between entreaty and reverence. Her head bowed and she softly murmured an answer to the Goddess, “I will go, my Lady.”

One last look at her beloved sea, and Arianrhod turned quickly to make her way to the library where her sisters sat, giggling amongst themselves, embroidery dropped and forgotten. The moment they saw Arianrhod enter their giggling spluttered into shocked silence.

“I’m leaving for Avalon in the morning,” Arianrhod stated flatly, staring at them without a flicker of expression upon her face. “Gwen, you will oversee the caer while I am away. Elen, Maelen — assist as needed and as you can. Have the stable boy ready my horse at dawn. I ride out at first light.”

Turning with no further word, she made her way to her rooms to begin her preparations for the journey to Avalon.

~from a roleplay at AncientWorlds

The Infamous Nadira

Daphne — Fri, 14 May 2010 20:29:23 +0000

Nadira

The day’s beginning had not been promising. Rainclouds raised thunderous frowns upon this cursed land that Nadira had come to. Rain, rain and more vile rain. Would the warming sun never shine again? A glance at the sky told her that the time would not be soon for such needed relief. A gust of wind blew across her, cold and damp. She shivered at its uncaring touch.

Yet, she could not help but think that the very earth itself wept for her dead master, wept as she herself wept nightly for his loss. Her sorrow was barely contained behind the floodgates of her willpower. The sorrow was as deep as the passion she had shared with her master. At any moment it could break through to overwhelm her fully. It was all too much to think on a moment longer, so she bolstered herself and pushed the sorrow into the shadowed recesses of her mind. Dragging Shani behind her, she pressed her way forward through the swirling crowds of Camulodunum where she had come to mend the broken life she was suddenly heir to.

“Shani!”, she called out in her rich alto voice, “Move swiftly now, girl! We wouldn’t want to show up looking like ragged street cats. That would not do for a first impression. Especially in this business. First class, first rate! Thus is our reputation and honor upheld.”

She thought to herself about what she was walking into. The unknowns. The uncertainties. The strangeness. It was not a situation she could avoid. Her master, lying upon his bed, moving relentlessly into death, had instructed her to come here; she must make her new abode with this foreign Mistress. Beloved! The lorn cry echoed silent within. Must I? A slight shake of her head to again hold back that flood. Not now. Not now.

Ahead, Nadira could see the building she had been traveling to for weeks. It did not look to be so grand, she thought sourly, though I should not discount it so easily. Once within, perhaps, it will prove its merits so highly boasted of by her master; there would be comfort and safety, and even maybe friendship.

“There, Shani. See it close before us? That is our new home, the gods above willing. Keep to your place and obey.”

The women made their way to the door, both slightly out of breath from their long walk.

Nadira ran her slim hands down the front of her gown to straighten it, lightly smoothed back her dark hair, painted a smile upon her lips and knocked on the door three times.

In her mind she heard her master’s weakened voice, “Go to Morga, pet. Do not fear. Be brave and strong, my lovely one. I will wait for you in another time, another place.”

From within, footsteps approached the door.

~from a roleplay, long ago, in West of Eden’s G-Spot at AncientWorlds…..loads of fun to write this character!

Astra On a Mission

Daphne — Fri, 14 May 2010 16:57:42 +0000

I’m there and in the midst of the whole shebang without time for questions or kickin’ the Colonel’s tush. No wonder he wanted me along on the mission, my specialty being utmost silent recon and kick-ass where and when necessary, and doing a rather neat and quiet job of it. Thank whatever Gods there might be that at least Kir was part of the mission. He and I had worked together before as a superb team. A moment for a sigh, and then no time for self-indulgence. There was no question this was already FUBAR from the start! I glanced
around at the chaos, and realized it wouldn’t be rectified easily. Damn the Colonel for bringing me into this mess! I shouted out, “Everyone, move NOW! NOWWWWWW!”

I roughly began shoving folks back towards the portal, but it was like herding sheep or herding slippery eel. As I grabbed arms and pushed and heaved, I wondered if this was just another nightmare drawn from the darkness of my soul. The poor beginning didn’t bode well at all for any of us.

Stowing my Beretta reluctantly, I feared some damned fool would run right into it and I’d fire instinctively at the pressure. I pulled out my Colt M16 assault rifle with a grunt of anger, and silently recalled the amount of ammo I carried. One quick burst at the sky and there was no question from the sheep of listening to the dark-eyed bellowing demoness in black. I backed up as quickly as I could, hands gripping it like a long-lost lover. Eyes roamed the perimeter, and the sheep hovering behind me. Nothing around. Nothing moving. Just sound and fury at a distance. Sweat dripping to the tune of the humidity in the air. Some crazy bird singing a freak chorus to the far-off gunfire.

Jinx and her team were still an unknown…but I knew I’d be goddamned if some unknown, civ or non-civ or creature? would take me out. I looked back and saw all the civ’s huddling by the portal. Now what the hell were we supposed to do? We can’t hole up here forever. We need water and a more defensible position. Looks like home ain’t gonna be our next stop any time soon!

I didn’t take a single second to think about our “easy” way out. Wasn’t time. And my trigger finger was just itching for a target and some wildness. A fierce grin of exultation probably made me look like a madwoman. But this was actually rather fun, and amusing in some twisted way after my quiet year-long hiatus at the ranch.

But, no sign of Jinx. And the rattled air was jittering too thickly to think much through it with any coherence.
Something was going to happen, whether I wanted it to or not. I patted one of my hidden knives by habit. Then I hefted the rifle in a simple natural movement, adjusted to its weight, primed myself for action, and looked at the Colonel with a wry glance…