November 16th, 20003 - Rising Stars

Sometimes stars shine just a little too brightly. You know the ones, the ones that fade fast. A bright flare and then its gone. I was told once, to never shine too brightly, words I had a hard time heeding, you can't get to the top of the pyramid unless you are the brightest star. That's what st louis is like, a hundred flashing lights, flickering and rising and then fading to nothingness, all in the blink of an eye.

"Those thou create are thine own blood until released from they charge. Until that moment, their sins, their blood and their punishments are thine"

Havyn was released, the Legacy of Bukowski. My debt has been repaid, the balance restored.

Nathan Atkinson, ascended as the next bright and shiney star, Andrea killed in her own Haven, was that to be her destiny all along. Nathan does not shine as bright, he's barely noticed. He and his council just faded blurred images on a decrepit stage. Maybe they'll burn longer, but I doubt it. Kate Webber may be the brightest star there, but we all know where that leads.

Zoe was lost, she rose up higher than I could touch. Always stay low to the ground, my place, my dharma is to watch the stars and never touch them. To be the last one standing, to leave that legacy, the chronicle of the events that have unfolded...the ones that are unfolding. And then there was Seth, the Usurper. Zoe had asked me to stop harassing him. Was I harassing him? Maybe. But how can that be helped, the man just arrived out of the blue, stepped in where Kaji once was, became deputy overnight. Now I hear he also works at the Kimia Lounge, you just can't get away from him. What does he have, others have been here a long time, have served and shed blood, yet in just a short time, Seth has esconsed himself into every aspect of my life here. I'm not harassing him, he's harassing me.

Julius and Murdoch, still the dynamic duo, but I have come to a sort of stasis or balance with them. They no longer speak of Laura and her possible sabbat affiliations (bunk), but maybe they just don't speak of it to me, because as I said it was bunk. Peter has been working too much and I miss his quiet presence. There is his childe, Merle, whose eyes sometimes convey some deep hurt, a scar that may not or one she won't let heal.

I dream of silver cords and two others. Two others closeby, those with the same mark as mine, half-blooded, existing only half dead, and half alive. Was that how it was supposed to be all along? I've seen one, reached out to touch, made brief contact and then drifted back. It isn't time to come together...but soon.

I saw her draw an arrow then, Weakness by name. And where it struck the earth the blood of Caine was thinned until it ran like water in a stream. --> And all the curses laid upon it were as whispers, barely heard.