Gravity is a factor
Feel it pulling you in
It gets under your skin
And you just sink in
When the past is an anchor It's just holding you back When you can't walk away Something makes you stay.
What makes you turn around and do it all again Your highs and lows, they are both one and the same There is no difference in your pleasure and your pain It's time to face the music.
Face the Music- Conjur one
It was a frustrating thing, to realize you hate something, but can't do a damn thing about it. The small elf sat slumped on the steps of Onyx and just brooded over that. The scene she had witnessed just the other evening, was picking at her brain. Needling her in a way that she hadn't felt in quite a while.
Last time she felt such a feeling of pure, unadulterated revulsion had been towards Vincent Russat. She had taken care of him. It had taken her three long years of planning, plotting and tracking, but she had eventually found him and dusted him. Hardcore and without an ounce of remorse or guilt, in fact she had been pleased at the stunned look on his face and the screams he had emitted as the ball of sunlight had engulfed him. He had nearly killed her, and even now she bore the scars of it, well hidden. The backlash and the sheer energy she had unleashed had nearly been her undoing but she had survived it in the end.
Next on her list of hate, was her stepfather, Khorathil. He was still around, but she knew one day, somehow, someway she would have to confront him. Tasha felt in her gut that was a destiny she had not yet fulfilled but unlike Vinnie the Vile, Khor frightened her, that deep down in your bones freezing kind of paralyzing fear. He was another one that had terrorized her both mentally and physically when she had been way to small and young to understand or even fight back. Scars of that time she again hid under clothing and with glamour. He still haunted her nightmares, the boogyman of her childhood that truly was the Ogre of Hellish memories. The eater of souls, and the Death Bringer, perhaps the one that would eventually be her end, so she avoided that one.
Another one on her surprisingly short list of intense hatred was Simon Helston. Just thinking about that one hurt and angered her all at the same time. The line of love and hate was said to be thin and both felt with the same sort of passion. In his case, it was true. She had adored him, loved him, and even attempted to become what she thought he wanted. She had worn dresses, tried to act like a true lady, but none of that had mattered. Tasha had loved him from the start. She had only just arrived in RhyDin and shortly after met him. Oh back then he hadn't really noticed her as anything but a lost kid.
Tina's worship of Luse brought that to mind for her often enough, but she knew Luse would never wound the young girl the way she had been in the end of it all. Years of unrequited love, and then he noticed her, toss in five more before her happy bubble had exploded into painful ruin. She didn't even remember why, as it been something rather innocuous. A petty problem that had escalated to his attempt to kill her in a brutal and unforgiving way that she hadn't deserved.
Shivering as wind caught the silken silver hair and tossed it about where she sat on those stone steps. A curse that would lead to her death, cast off with a creature thrown inside that would eat its way out. Yeah, scars inside on both the heart and body had been the end result. Ill prepared for that sort of appalling treatment, but suspected most others wouldn't have planned for that either. Before she could avenge herself, another hand killed him instead. His own brother had robbed her of that moment.
It had been Daug that had saved her from that fate. The family mages couldn't, and they had tried with the result being the death of two. Daugie had risked his own destruction in his effort to save her. He had taken her to the place of his birth, where his power was at it's fullest and fought against his own siblings so he could remove that death sentence left to her by Simon. Many didn't understand her relationship with the Lich, but in a strange odd way, she did care about the old crazy ancient bone Dragon.
Oh it had changed her. Before, she used to delight in tweaking the tall, dark and moody sorts. Now, she avoided them, often kept her distance, because few actually ever changed. It's always about inflicting harm and pain on others and she had been working very hard to no longer be a victim for anyone. She had survived this far, but when the foe was something you couldn't really see, couldn't physically touch, it was galling.
She hid her history well, or at least believed she did. Few outside the family knew and even those she was close to, tended to forget because her behavior enforced the idea that she hadn't a care in the world. She wore a comfortable mask and didn't let to many see under it. It was safer that way, because Tasha had learned at an early age that old wounds, emotional or physical, could be used against one to their determent.
When the past is an anchor It's just holding you back When you can't walk away Something makes you stay.
What makes you turn around and do it all again Your highs and lows, they are both one and the same There is no difference in your pleasure and your pain It's time to face the music.
Face the Music- Conjur one
It was a frustrating thing, to realize you hate something, but can't do a damn thing about it. The small elf sat slumped on the steps of Onyx and just brooded over that. The scene she had witnessed just the other evening, was picking at her brain. Needling her in a way that she hadn't felt in quite a while.
Last time she felt such a feeling of pure, unadulterated revulsion had been towards Vincent Russat. She had taken care of him. It had taken her three long years of planning, plotting and tracking, but she had eventually found him and dusted him. Hardcore and without an ounce of remorse or guilt, in fact she had been pleased at the stunned look on his face and the screams he had emitted as the ball of sunlight had engulfed him. He had nearly killed her, and even now she bore the scars of it, well hidden. The backlash and the sheer energy she had unleashed had nearly been her undoing but she had survived it in the end.
Next on her list of hate, was her stepfather, Khorathil. He was still around, but she knew one day, somehow, someway she would have to confront him. Tasha felt in her gut that was a destiny she had not yet fulfilled but unlike Vinnie the Vile, Khor frightened her, that deep down in your bones freezing kind of paralyzing fear. He was another one that had terrorized her both mentally and physically when she had been way to small and young to understand or even fight back. Scars of that time she again hid under clothing and with glamour. He still haunted her nightmares, the boogyman of her childhood that truly was the Ogre of Hellish memories. The eater of souls, and the Death Bringer, perhaps the one that would eventually be her end, so she avoided that one.
Another one on her surprisingly short list of intense hatred was Simon Helston. Just thinking about that one hurt and angered her all at the same time. The line of love and hate was said to be thin and both felt with the same sort of passion. In his case, it was true. She had adored him, loved him, and even attempted to become what she thought he wanted. She had worn dresses, tried to act like a true lady, but none of that had mattered. Tasha had loved him from the start. She had only just arrived in RhyDin and shortly after met him. Oh back then he hadn't really noticed her as anything but a lost kid.
Tina's worship of Luse brought that to mind for her often enough, but she knew Luse would never wound the young girl the way she had been in the end of it all. Years of unrequited love, and then he noticed her, toss in five more before her happy bubble had exploded into painful ruin. She didn't even remember why, as it been something rather innocuous. A petty problem that had escalated to his attempt to kill her in a brutal and unforgiving way that she hadn't deserved.
Shivering as wind caught the silken silver hair and tossed it about where she sat on those stone steps. A curse that would lead to her death, cast off with a creature thrown inside that would eat its way out. Yeah, scars inside on both the heart and body had been the end result. Ill prepared for that sort of appalling treatment, but suspected most others wouldn't have planned for that either. Before she could avenge herself, another hand killed him instead. His own brother had robbed her of that moment.
It had been Daug that had saved her from that fate. The family mages couldn't, and they had tried with the result being the death of two. Daugie had risked his own destruction in his effort to save her. He had taken her to the place of his birth, where his power was at it's fullest and fought against his own siblings so he could remove that death sentence left to her by Simon. Many didn't understand her relationship with the Lich, but in a strange odd way, she did care about the old crazy ancient bone Dragon.
Oh it had changed her. Before, she used to delight in tweaking the tall, dark and moody sorts. Now, she avoided them, often kept her distance, because few actually ever changed. It's always about inflicting harm and pain on others and she had been working very hard to no longer be a victim for anyone. She had survived this far, but when the foe was something you couldn't really see, couldn't physically touch, it was galling.
She hid her history well, or at least believed she did. Few outside the family knew and even those she was close to, tended to forget because her behavior enforced the idea that she hadn't a care in the world. She wore a comfortable mask and didn't let to many see under it. It was safer that way, because Tasha had learned at an early age that old wounds, emotional or physical, could be used against one to their determent.