Palmer stood in silence next to Thaddeus and watched as Anantya filtered into the chamber, drawing on his practiced ability to keep absolutely still and look properly unapproachable. At times, after all, one had to convey a certain image, a certain ‘I’m supposed to be here, so just keep walking’ air, and it was helpful, he found, in any situation where he was expected to be statue-still.
He personally was looking forward to the part after the formalities were over, when he could at least wave and say hello, but he had to admit this part was pretty impressive.
Watching as the last of his clanmates entered, he reflected on what might be happening in the world above while the vampires gathered below. Around here, he supposed, there were probably only deer and squirrels roaming above, oblivious to the affairs of their kind, but perhaps in the years to come there would be city streets with hundreds of people walking up and down the sidewalks, never knowing that just below the most ancient vampire clan gathered.
Brought out of thoughts of rabbits digging burrows in the ground above them when the blindfolded guest of honor was brought into the chamber, he watched as the ceremony proceeded; the kneeling, the words, the blood. He could remember that sense of being quite alone, unable to tell one person from the next even though he was certain his creator was just behind him. It wasn’t until he said the words that the chamber became somehow more welcoming; he wondered now if that was his imagination but tried to send out ‘hi, it’s all good, you’re welcome’ vibes just the same.
Soon it was time for their little, but significant, role in the ceremony. He looked down while Thaddeus held out one pale hand, wondering if his friend was bothered by this part; it seemed like the sort of thing that would bother the nightsman. There was no telling by that quick gesture, though, and he focused on his own affairs when the attendant handed him the dagger.
Being the thick skinned sort, he imagined he would have to pack a good amount of pressure behind the slice to his palm, but as soon as the cool blade touched his hand he realized just how sharp this dagger was. The cut was made with little in the way of production and he pulled back once the wound was healed, having contributed his blood to the chalice. It was only a blink before he realized that he was still holding the knife, but he still felt somewhat sheepish as he returned it to the attendant and watched him move on.
Fallon's Initiation (EVENT)
You find yourself in a line along with the cowled forms of your fellow clan members. Though the Ritual is very much the same from city to city there is a member of the Order of the Rose at the head of the hallway to answer any questions someone might have and to quietly explain to those that have never been to a Ritual, save their own, what is expected of them as an established member.
- Before the Ritual begins everyone is given a hooded black robe to wear symbolizing the equality of all Anantya. Once you have reached the entrance to the chamber you will find it guarded by the Order of the Hunt. You must pull back your hood to show yourself to the guardian before you are allowed to enter. Once you've been granted access please pull your hood back up. -
Mai stands in the doorway to the Initiation Chamber. Her expression is uncharacteristically stern as she lifts her white eyes to challenge the first in line requesting entrance into the room. The plain black robe seems to swallow the small elder in its folds but she remains fierce and watchful.
The figure in front of her pulls back their robe and reveals their face. Mai nods once and raises the thick crystal phial that she has been holding. Tilting its blood red contents onto her thumb, she then presses this to the person's forehead. Once she has marked the entrant, Mai quietly speaks.
"You are Anantya and you are welcome."Â?
She then moves aside to allow them to pass into the room before standing in front of the next person in line.
Everyone will file around in the room clockwise until the group forms a full circle.
[color=red]NOTE: For the purpose of your entrance you may assume that Mai greets you and allows you to pass.[/color]
Palmer
18 years ago
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel kept her head bowed and her eyes closed as the chamber filled. She took no notice of how many people had arrived, nor of any other details. Her mind was set solely on contemplation. She wondered if tonight's initiate understood the meaning of the clan.
Summing it up for herself in one word, Ysabel thought for the second time in a short while, home. She was far removed from England. Her parents weren't here. Dayle wasn't here. Yet she knew she would belong here as she had always belonged.
Opening her eyes, she saw the kneeling woman although from her angle she couldn't see her face. Ysabel heard the words though, as they'd been spoken many times before. She smiled softly.
Accepting the dagger when it came to her, she drew it swiftly across her palm and turned her hand into the chalice. Welcome home, sister, and luck in finding your place in our family. She couldn't speak the words, but the sentiment was there and Ysabel felt it only appropriate to involve her head and heart along with her hand now.
Returning the dagger she tucked her hand back into the long sleeve of her robe and bowed her head once more.
Summing it up for herself in one word, Ysabel thought for the second time in a short while, home. She was far removed from England. Her parents weren't here. Dayle wasn't here. Yet she knew she would belong here as she had always belonged.
Opening her eyes, she saw the kneeling woman although from her angle she couldn't see her face. Ysabel heard the words though, as they'd been spoken many times before. She smiled softly.
Accepting the dagger when it came to her, she drew it swiftly across her palm and turned her hand into the chalice. Welcome home, sister, and luck in finding your place in our family. She couldn't speak the words, but the sentiment was there and Ysabel felt it only appropriate to involve her head and heart along with her hand now.
Returning the dagger she tucked her hand back into the long sleeve of her robe and bowed her head once more.
Cyrus
18 years ago
Cyrus proudly left his fledgeling and took his spot in the circle. Her voice ringing out the proper response made pride swell in his chest. The heady scent of her blood that he was coming to know so well filled the air. While he knew the cut would heal swiftly he still disliked seeing her flesh opened. The urge to go lick her arm till it healed was present in an odd sort of comforting way but he held still.
Soon the chalice began filling with the blood of his clanmates. Keeping his eyes upon Fallon's kneeling form, he stamped down the predatorial instincts that arose with the scent of so much blood. His eyes were undoubtably reflecting in the torchlight but he stood straight and unmoving. Not even a growl or rumble escaped him.
The Unspeakable brought the dagger and chalice to him for his donation. Grasping the dagger he sliced his palm open over the bloodfilled cup. With a twist of his wrist the knife pointed at the robe clad mute, hilt first. Swiftly his wound closed as his blood dripped steadily. Once the last drop slid from his hand he nodded his head in a short bow to the unspeakable before returning to his prior stance.
Soon the chalice began filling with the blood of his clanmates. Keeping his eyes upon Fallon's kneeling form, he stamped down the predatorial instincts that arose with the scent of so much blood. His eyes were undoubtably reflecting in the torchlight but he stood straight and unmoving. Not even a growl or rumble escaped him.
The Unspeakable brought the dagger and chalice to him for his donation. Grasping the dagger he sliced his palm open over the bloodfilled cup. With a twist of his wrist the knife pointed at the robe clad mute, hilt first. Swiftly his wound closed as his blood dripped steadily. Once the last drop slid from his hand he nodded his head in a short bow to the unspeakable before returning to his prior stance.
Amberelle DeEspionne
18 years ago
The waiting was the worst. Keeping her head bowed and her hands clasped tightly in front of her, Amberelle found so many questions forming as the rest of the attending members arrived and took their place around the circle. Despite her desire to the contrary, with nothing to occupy her mind Amberelle found herself reflecting on her own change and the initiation she had been through. The fragmented memories she had of her own time had been better forgotten she'd always thought. After all, who wanted to remember days of beating out their insolence and then being forced under their sire's strong 'command' to behave and respond as he directed? No, the ceremony she'd been to was just a blur here and there of visuals and feelings, not much for her to draw from. Now that hole in her memory left her woefully ignorant of what was to transpire tonight. Certainly she'd read of the ritual since, but she worried about local customs being different and that somehow she would end up comitting some horrible faux pas.
Perhaps this reflection was even part of what was intended, the blonde realized, to remind everyone here tonight of their first moments as part of the "family", of what it felt like the first time the fact that you belonged to something ancient, timeless and powerful sunk in. She smiled faintly, more of a grimace really, as she recalled how filled with rage and grief she'd been when confronted with that realization after her own turning. Even over a decade later it lingered. Misty eyed, she blinked furiously and stared straight ahead at the stone floor.
Just when it seemed everyone had arrived the soft sound of bare feet moving quickly to the door drifted into the room. Glancing sideways at the nearly late arrival she wondered briefly who it could be. After watching the robed figure twitch and fidget she had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to stifle a giggle. That could only be one person, and she'd be shocked if the girl didn't have an anurism trying to maintain decorum long enough for the ceremony.
Lifting her eyes to watch Morrigan as she spoke, Amby felt a swell of pride in her breast for her clan. It had taken years and a move half way across the country, but she had found a reason to believe in Anantya here. Really, she'd found a reason to believe in herself. Something she hoped Cyrus' new childe had an easier time finding than she had.
As she watched Morrigan slice the woman's hand, then her own, the Creole made a little sense of some of her own disjointed memories, seeing the cup and blade passed from one to the next she waited until it was her time. The blonde took the blade respectfuly, with no small sense of awe. Looking at it as she turned the edge to her skin she admired the craftsmanship and wondered how many ceremonies it had seen, how many centuries it had served to join the clan to one another here. She took care to slice deep enough to bleed out a decent amount into the cup, watching as her own crimson essence joined that of the others around her, all blended to be one. Anantya in its truest form. The smell was intoxicating as the aroma of their blood filled the air around her and stirred her hunger.
She handed the blade back hilt first when her wound closed and reclasped her hands.
Perhaps this reflection was even part of what was intended, the blonde realized, to remind everyone here tonight of their first moments as part of the "family", of what it felt like the first time the fact that you belonged to something ancient, timeless and powerful sunk in. She smiled faintly, more of a grimace really, as she recalled how filled with rage and grief she'd been when confronted with that realization after her own turning. Even over a decade later it lingered. Misty eyed, she blinked furiously and stared straight ahead at the stone floor.
Just when it seemed everyone had arrived the soft sound of bare feet moving quickly to the door drifted into the room. Glancing sideways at the nearly late arrival she wondered briefly who it could be. After watching the robed figure twitch and fidget she had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to stifle a giggle. That could only be one person, and she'd be shocked if the girl didn't have an anurism trying to maintain decorum long enough for the ceremony.
Lifting her eyes to watch Morrigan as she spoke, Amby felt a swell of pride in her breast for her clan. It had taken years and a move half way across the country, but she had found a reason to believe in Anantya here. Really, she'd found a reason to believe in herself. Something she hoped Cyrus' new childe had an easier time finding than she had.
As she watched Morrigan slice the woman's hand, then her own, the Creole made a little sense of some of her own disjointed memories, seeing the cup and blade passed from one to the next she waited until it was her time. The blonde took the blade respectfuly, with no small sense of awe. Looking at it as she turned the edge to her skin she admired the craftsmanship and wondered how many ceremonies it had seen, how many centuries it had served to join the clan to one another here. She took care to slice deep enough to bleed out a decent amount into the cup, watching as her own crimson essence joined that of the others around her, all blended to be one. Anantya in its truest form. The smell was intoxicating as the aroma of their blood filled the air around her and stirred her hunger.
She handed the blade back hilt first when her wound closed and reclasped her hands.
Dawn Ratana
18 years ago
Things seemed to be going smoothly for the new girl. That was good. She hadn't had a negative reaction to the blindfold like Dawn had. She'd gotten through, though - for her that was the most difficult part of the ritual. Conversing with the Elders, proving her worth, the blood...all easy. The blindfold...that was her trial. The sensation of helplessness, the need to truly trust in not only her creator but in their entire family. The requirement that one must let go of their personal issues for the whole of the Clan. Dawn supposed that was why there were so many steps involved - so that no matter the person, they had to confront something, let go something difficult to release in order to take the next step.
Watching the circle of folk was interesting. Each person using the blade in slightly different ways, revealing the personality of the bearer. A practiced, sliding cut along the palm - someone skilled with long blades, most likely. A delicate slide - someone skilled in the social graces, most familiar with cutlery. A backhanded draw, certainly a huntsman. A grip and a slide...odd, a ritualist, maybe? Each slice, despite its roots in hooded anonymity, betrayed the personality and skill of the individual...but all their blood collected into the cup. One whole brought together through blood.
Taking the knife from the bearer, she bowed slightly, unconsciously. How strange. Glancing at the exquisite tool in her hand, she grasped it, blade up in her hand, a knife fighter's grip. Lancing the tip into the meat of her thumb, she applied pressure until she felt the Arms of Anantya give way before the ancient relic. With a last little push and twist, she overcame her natural resistances and slid the blade diagonally from thumb to little finger, using the natural lines of her palm to act as a guide for the flow.
Contributing her share, she passed the blade back to its silent bearer, the flesh knitting as the final drops fell into the container. Smiling, she moved her hand away. Onto the next step.
Watching the circle of folk was interesting. Each person using the blade in slightly different ways, revealing the personality of the bearer. A practiced, sliding cut along the palm - someone skilled with long blades, most likely. A delicate slide - someone skilled in the social graces, most familiar with cutlery. A backhanded draw, certainly a huntsman. A grip and a slide...odd, a ritualist, maybe? Each slice, despite its roots in hooded anonymity, betrayed the personality and skill of the individual...but all their blood collected into the cup. One whole brought together through blood.
Taking the knife from the bearer, she bowed slightly, unconsciously. How strange. Glancing at the exquisite tool in her hand, she grasped it, blade up in her hand, a knife fighter's grip. Lancing the tip into the meat of her thumb, she applied pressure until she felt the Arms of Anantya give way before the ancient relic. With a last little push and twist, she overcame her natural resistances and slid the blade diagonally from thumb to little finger, using the natural lines of her palm to act as a guide for the flow.
Contributing her share, she passed the blade back to its silent bearer, the flesh knitting as the final drops fell into the container. Smiling, she moved her hand away. Onto the next step.
Claire
18 years ago
Claire listened to the silent rustling of robes as she continued to gaze at the mark that seemed to dance in the torchlight. She did look up once it appeared that everyone had entered the circle but then another set of hurried footsteps announced one last Anantya to be allowed entrance.
Too small to be Sorin, she was certain her sire had been one of the later arrivals but he had made his entrance at, not surprisingly, what would be considered by him to be the perfect time. He was neither early and therefore appeared too eager nor late to appear lazy. Reviewing the figures in her mind brought forth the easy saunter of one of the later arrivals. Claire counted backwards from the last and let her eyes drift to the robed figure that she felt was her creator. Perhaps it was her imagination but he seemed to appear positively bored. How did he manage to convey boredom in a hooded robe? She sighed inwardly and went back to watching.
The Initiate was brought in and knelt before the Elder of the Rose. Claire remembered her own ceremony centuries ago, quite well. There had been the smell of salt in the air from the ocean, it seeped through and still could be detected in the earth and on the slight breeze that caused the flames to flicker. The nearest Anantya occupied city had been near where Le Mont Saint Michel would some day be; it had already been considered a sacred place by the clan for many years.
Sorin's hand on her shoulder had been a comforting weight while she walked, guiding her to that other chambre that she was initiated in. It and the blindfold had been removed at the same time but she knew that he was somewhere nearby. Her first thought had been so odd that it still made her smile at each of these events. The robed figures standing so still and casting long shadows in the moving light had reminded her of trees in a forest. Whatever fear Claire had felt before that point had vanished at that strangely reassuring thought. Anantya was a forest and each tree, each member, was graceful and beautiful in its own right but majestic and strong as a whole.
The new member, for after pledging herself to the clan's cause Claire felt that was the point at which she truly became a clan mate, spoke well and soon the chalice and dagger was being passed around to blend her blood with those brethren present.
Taking the dagger in her hand, Claire pressed it's edge to her palm until it broke the skin and then slid the blade along the shallow wound. She added her own blood to the chalice and then held her already nearly healed hand clasped in the other one in front of her as the attendant moved on.
Too small to be Sorin, she was certain her sire had been one of the later arrivals but he had made his entrance at, not surprisingly, what would be considered by him to be the perfect time. He was neither early and therefore appeared too eager nor late to appear lazy. Reviewing the figures in her mind brought forth the easy saunter of one of the later arrivals. Claire counted backwards from the last and let her eyes drift to the robed figure that she felt was her creator. Perhaps it was her imagination but he seemed to appear positively bored. How did he manage to convey boredom in a hooded robe? She sighed inwardly and went back to watching.
The Initiate was brought in and knelt before the Elder of the Rose. Claire remembered her own ceremony centuries ago, quite well. There had been the smell of salt in the air from the ocean, it seeped through and still could be detected in the earth and on the slight breeze that caused the flames to flicker. The nearest Anantya occupied city had been near where Le Mont Saint Michel would some day be; it had already been considered a sacred place by the clan for many years.
Sorin's hand on her shoulder had been a comforting weight while she walked, guiding her to that other chambre that she was initiated in. It and the blindfold had been removed at the same time but she knew that he was somewhere nearby. Her first thought had been so odd that it still made her smile at each of these events. The robed figures standing so still and casting long shadows in the moving light had reminded her of trees in a forest. Whatever fear Claire had felt before that point had vanished at that strangely reassuring thought. Anantya was a forest and each tree, each member, was graceful and beautiful in its own right but majestic and strong as a whole.
The new member, for after pledging herself to the clan's cause Claire felt that was the point at which she truly became a clan mate, spoke well and soon the chalice and dagger was being passed around to blend her blood with those brethren present.
Taking the dagger in her hand, Claire pressed it's edge to her palm until it broke the skin and then slid the blade along the shallow wound. She added her own blood to the chalice and then held her already nearly healed hand clasped in the other one in front of her as the attendant moved on.
Sorin
18 years ago
Sorin snorted quietly to himself as someone came running up to join the rest them at just about the last possible moment they would still be allowed to enter. He could only imagine the glare they received from the Elder of the Hunt and since he was not running this little show, he could care less that they made something of a spectacle of themselves by not being on time.
Thankfully the ceremony seemed to be going along smoothly and he wondered what wine would be served afterwards for the party while they waited for the little mouse to find her way out of the maze.
He waited while she made a non memorable answer and the cup was brought around to everyone in the circle. Some people took entirely too long with the whole process; how difficult was it to cut your hand and move on? A whole production did not need to be made of the event.
Once the blade came to him, he eyed his palm and considered the best course of action. It was more difficult to cut his skin than most, a very handy trait which had saved his immortal life more than once, and he wanted it be clean and commanding. It would be embarrassing to have a lack luster flow of blood, making it appear as though he were afraid of a small cut but at the same time spraying the Unspeakable attendant with an over zealous swipe would be equally unfitting.
Sorin pressed the blade deep into his skin and drug the dagger along the wound. He always seemed to forget how sharp the blade was and that it cut even his skin with ease. He shuddered mentally at the reminder of his vulnerability and handed the blade hilt first back to the attendant. Realizing with an inward smirk that he had made a production of the event.
Thankfully the ceremony seemed to be going along smoothly and he wondered what wine would be served afterwards for the party while they waited for the little mouse to find her way out of the maze.
He waited while she made a non memorable answer and the cup was brought around to everyone in the circle. Some people took entirely too long with the whole process; how difficult was it to cut your hand and move on? A whole production did not need to be made of the event.
Once the blade came to him, he eyed his palm and considered the best course of action. It was more difficult to cut his skin than most, a very handy trait which had saved his immortal life more than once, and he wanted it be clean and commanding. It would be embarrassing to have a lack luster flow of blood, making it appear as though he were afraid of a small cut but at the same time spraying the Unspeakable attendant with an over zealous swipe would be equally unfitting.
Sorin pressed the blade deep into his skin and drug the dagger along the wound. He always seemed to forget how sharp the blade was and that it cut even his skin with ease. He shuddered mentally at the reminder of his vulnerability and handed the blade hilt first back to the attendant. Realizing with an inward smirk that he had made a production of the event.
Mai
18 years ago
Mai tilted her head at Dawn as she arrived, wondering what had kept the young vampire from being on time. The reason mattered not in the end and she suspected that having the eyes of so many people upon her was lesson enough for the girl. There were plenty of other things that were more important for her to teach little Pappi without teaching that particular lesson. Mai felt that when one was on the correct path other things fell into place. It would be a waste to try to teach respectful attendance to someone who did not understand what they were honoring in the first place.
She stood aside as Cyrus led Fallon into the circle and then closed the door to the chamber and completed the circle.
Morrigan's voice was a calm rod of strength bringing focus to the ceremony. Mai bent her head and closed her unnecessary eyes and focused her senses on each figure in the room and then relaxed her vigilance to take in the stimulus as a whole.
She could feel the heat from the torches, hear their crackling sound and smell the smoke. The heat from the flames was added to that of the robed figures to warm the normally chill room. Mai realized for most people the robes hid the identity of each person and created a mass equality from a visual perspective but to her each figure stood out as uniquely as they always did. The clan was here together for the same purpose and that was all the uniformity she personally required of them.
The chalice eventually made its way to her; Mai picked up the blade and continued the motion in a slice across her palm, handing the blade back to the attendant in the return of the same movement. Holding her hand over the cup, she smelled her blood mingling with that of the rest of her clan mates present just as the scent of each of them mingled in the room.
The smell of blood in the air though was a scent that could command the attention of all of her kind and in this chalice was a rare mixture of age and youth but immortal all. It was the fabled elixer of life, the true fountain of eternal youth and Anantya had guarded its secrets for an eon.
She stood aside as Cyrus led Fallon into the circle and then closed the door to the chamber and completed the circle.
Morrigan's voice was a calm rod of strength bringing focus to the ceremony. Mai bent her head and closed her unnecessary eyes and focused her senses on each figure in the room and then relaxed her vigilance to take in the stimulus as a whole.
She could feel the heat from the torches, hear their crackling sound and smell the smoke. The heat from the flames was added to that of the robed figures to warm the normally chill room. Mai realized for most people the robes hid the identity of each person and created a mass equality from a visual perspective but to her each figure stood out as uniquely as they always did. The clan was here together for the same purpose and that was all the uniformity she personally required of them.
The chalice eventually made its way to her; Mai picked up the blade and continued the motion in a slice across her palm, handing the blade back to the attendant in the return of the same movement. Holding her hand over the cup, she smelled her blood mingling with that of the rest of her clan mates present just as the scent of each of them mingled in the room.
The smell of blood in the air though was a scent that could command the attention of all of her kind and in this chalice was a rare mixture of age and youth but immortal all. It was the fabled elixer of life, the true fountain of eternal youth and Anantya had guarded its secrets for an eon.
Ambrose
18 years ago
He’d lay money that the late and squirly one was Dawn. It seemed in character for her to arrive behind schedule and be antsy about things.
However, Ambrose didn’t focus much on kung fu girl, the Elder of the Rose had quite a commanding presence and he gave her and Fallon the respectful attention the ceremony deserved. He never would have guessed that Fallon was a vampire, and one petitioning to join Anantya at that when he met her. Part of him still didn’t believe it, of course, there were probably those who thought the same of him both when he had been through this and even now.
Accepting the dagger in turn, he drew it across his palm. It was sharp and took little effort for him to add his own blood to the chalice, along with the rest of the clan, mentally wishing Fallon luck as he did so, and returned the dagger.
However, Ambrose didn’t focus much on kung fu girl, the Elder of the Rose had quite a commanding presence and he gave her and Fallon the respectful attention the ceremony deserved. He never would have guessed that Fallon was a vampire, and one petitioning to join Anantya at that when he met her. Part of him still didn’t believe it, of course, there were probably those who thought the same of him both when he had been through this and even now.
Accepting the dagger in turn, he drew it across his palm. It was sharp and took little effort for him to add his own blood to the chalice, along with the rest of the clan, mentally wishing Fallon luck as he did so, and returned the dagger.
Unspeakable
18 years ago
The Unspeakable moved slowly from one clanmate to the next as they contributed their blood to the chalice, the constant exchange of the dagger like a carefully staged dance, and stepped back to the Elder of the Rose with the now nearly full cup in hand.
Nearly, for there was one more contribution to make before the chalice could be offered to the initiate in the final act of acceptance. While an Unspeakable’s unique duties prevented them all from attending the initiation, one of their order was chosen to represent the unspeakables as a whole; thus his presence tonight served two purposes; both as servant and participant.
He handed the chalice to Morrigan with a low nod, confirming that his collection was complete, and slid the dagger across his own hand, stepping back to complete the circle only after adding his blood to the blend.
Nearly, for there was one more contribution to make before the chalice could be offered to the initiate in the final act of acceptance. While an Unspeakable’s unique duties prevented them all from attending the initiation, one of their order was chosen to represent the unspeakables as a whole; thus his presence tonight served two purposes; both as servant and participant.
He handed the chalice to Morrigan with a low nod, confirming that his collection was complete, and slid the dagger across his own hand, stepping back to complete the circle only after adding his blood to the blend.
Morrigan Kinsey
18 years ago
Morrigan took the chalice from the attendant and waited as he placed his own blood in the vessel. The ceremony was about becoming one of the clan an equal member and contributer and certain reminders were made throughout the ritual; this portion was one of those to her, the Unspeakable attendant being attended by the speaker.
And thus the circle is complete.
She took a moment and held the precious chalice up a little higher for all to see and reflect upon before stepping forward once more and offering it to Fallon.
"Drink and become one of us."Â?
The words spoken and the chalice given to the Initiate, Morrigan stepped back into her place in the circle and waited with the rest of her clan mates.
And thus the circle is complete.
She took a moment and held the precious chalice up a little higher for all to see and reflect upon before stepping forward once more and offering it to Fallon.
"Drink and become one of us."Â?
The words spoken and the chalice given to the Initiate, Morrigan stepped back into her place in the circle and waited with the rest of her clan mates.
Fallon
18 years ago
Once the chalice and knife had left Fallon's vision, she could only listen as she assumed it was passed from person to person, and they all repeated what she and Morrigan had done. Still only able to see Morrigan, Fallon knew Cyrus was off to her side, and though she wasn't afraid, it gave her comfort to know he was a part of all this.
The gravity and magnitude of the ceremony wasn't lost on Fallon. To know that so many before her, for thousands of years, had gone through this same ritual gave Fallon an amazingly strong feeling of now belonging. Becoming, and being a part of Anantya...of Cyrus, Mai, Morrigan, and even Sorin, as well as those she had yet to meet, made everything she had experienced in her short life take on a whole new meaning. The pain, and frustrations she had dealt with became insignificant. She no longer hated, anyone. Her mother, Ted, and especially Panos, had all brought her here, to this moment in time. Yet all thanks would be reserved for Cyrus.
By the time the chalice had made its way back into Morrigan's hands, the scent of blood was overpowering in the air. Fallon's hunger was fully upon her and her mouth was literally watering. She suspected with all the symbolism of the event, her feelings should have been centered less on hunger, and more on piety. So when handed the chalice, she thanked Morrigan, and tried to focus on the fact that she was now drinking of Anantya.
Her eyes closed, and her hands shook slightly, but she managed to sip slowly and not down the contents in a couple swift gulps. It wasn't easy either, for the taste was unlike anything she had yet, or probably ever would encounter again. The sweet, thick liquid tasted vestal, but also of age, and experience, and made her quite lightheaded, as if it were spiked. Though she drank slowly, she drank continually, with out any break, until the final drop rolled down the side of the chalice, and onto her tongue.
Opening her eyes, Fallon handed the goblet back to Morrigan, and thanked her again. It was all she could do now, to remain kneeling, and still, for her body was alive with an acute energy. Her skin tingled, and felt so sensitive as to almost feel raw. She also had an incredible urge to scream, and for a few seconds had to fight back the urge. Somehow that just didn't seem like it would have been an appropriate response at this time.
When the rush had settled, and her mind and body seemed to be her's again, she looked to Morrigan, and waited. She believed she had one last hurdle to jump, ahead of her still.
The gravity and magnitude of the ceremony wasn't lost on Fallon. To know that so many before her, for thousands of years, had gone through this same ritual gave Fallon an amazingly strong feeling of now belonging. Becoming, and being a part of Anantya...of Cyrus, Mai, Morrigan, and even Sorin, as well as those she had yet to meet, made everything she had experienced in her short life take on a whole new meaning. The pain, and frustrations she had dealt with became insignificant. She no longer hated, anyone. Her mother, Ted, and especially Panos, had all brought her here, to this moment in time. Yet all thanks would be reserved for Cyrus.
By the time the chalice had made its way back into Morrigan's hands, the scent of blood was overpowering in the air. Fallon's hunger was fully upon her and her mouth was literally watering. She suspected with all the symbolism of the event, her feelings should have been centered less on hunger, and more on piety. So when handed the chalice, she thanked Morrigan, and tried to focus on the fact that she was now drinking of Anantya.
Her eyes closed, and her hands shook slightly, but she managed to sip slowly and not down the contents in a couple swift gulps. It wasn't easy either, for the taste was unlike anything she had yet, or probably ever would encounter again. The sweet, thick liquid tasted vestal, but also of age, and experience, and made her quite lightheaded, as if it were spiked. Though she drank slowly, she drank continually, with out any break, until the final drop rolled down the side of the chalice, and onto her tongue.
Opening her eyes, Fallon handed the goblet back to Morrigan, and thanked her again. It was all she could do now, to remain kneeling, and still, for her body was alive with an acute energy. Her skin tingled, and felt so sensitive as to almost feel raw. She also had an incredible urge to scream, and for a few seconds had to fight back the urge. Somehow that just didn't seem like it would have been an appropriate response at this time.
When the rush had settled, and her mind and body seemed to be her's again, she looked to Morrigan, and waited. She believed she had one last hurdle to jump, ahead of her still.
Morrigan Kinsey
18 years ago
Morrigan took the chalice and set it back on the pedestal. It was gratifying to see that Fallon seemed to savor the experience for what it meant and behaved with the decorum one would expect from an Anantya. She felt a satisfied and somewhat maternal feeling towards the young teacher. This was a lady who would not be causing them embarrassment or trouble in the future, who would be an asset instead of a liability and who would represent them well.
Reaching out her hand to Fallon, she smiled as she helped her to her feet.
"You are now Anantya."Â?
She turned and nodded her head towards the guardian of the door to signal the opening of the circle. Taking a step back from Fallon, she rejoined her place amongst her clan mates.
"We will wait for you above."Â?
((OOC: Morrigan out in an orderly fashion ))
Reaching out her hand to Fallon, she smiled as she helped her to her feet.
"You are now Anantya."Â?
She turned and nodded her head towards the guardian of the door to signal the opening of the circle. Taking a step back from Fallon, she rejoined her place amongst her clan mates.
"We will wait for you above."Â?
((OOC: Morrigan out in an orderly fashion ))
Mai
18 years ago
Mai returned Morrigan's nod with a shallow bow and turned to open the doors. Looking at the person beside her in line, she waited for them to turn and leave. She would be the last to exit the circle save Fallon, herself. Even the Unspeakable would leave this chamber for now though another would come to clean and put away the ceremonial tools until they were needed again.
The newest member of Anantya would need to find her own way out of the catacombs and being alone in the torch lit Initiation Chamber was simply the beginning.
The Ritual went well and now the others would go back up and celebrate having a new member of the family much the way humans sometimes threw parties for the babies of their kin. Though, she reflected, there was perhaps less drinking and mirth at those parties. It was still a happy time and a new beginning in someone's life.
((OOC: Mai out after she watches over everyone else leaving.))
The newest member of Anantya would need to find her own way out of the catacombs and being alone in the torch lit Initiation Chamber was simply the beginning.
The Ritual went well and now the others would go back up and celebrate having a new member of the family much the way humans sometimes threw parties for the babies of their kin. Though, she reflected, there was perhaps less drinking and mirth at those parties. It was still a happy time and a new beginning in someone's life.
((OOC: Mai out after she watches over everyone else leaving.))
Thaddeus Grey
18 years ago
Thaddeus watched the chalice make its rounds, though he had to strain to see the figures at the opposite end, and mused that the dagger, now out of his hands until the next initiation, would give a richer sense than ever before. Something both timeless and infinite, though he felt he was missing something in that description; sometimes, he supposed, you could only grasp the ‘feel’ of a thing, even something as tangible as blood flowing over your hand.
He had always thought it odd that he could remember so little about this part of the ceremony, the part where the initiate drank of the cup, but a wave of something like nostalgia struck him when Fallon lifted the chalice to her lips. Perhaps it was simply the scent of blood in the air mingling with the incense. In any case, he may not remember his own experience perfectly, but it was in him nonetheless.
He wondered what younger vampires, born in this age, must make of the ceremony – was there a certain Anantya character inherent that made it easier to take drinking the blood of your brethren in stride, no matter what time you came into being? What would a Tacharan make of this ritual, if they were aware of it? Would they scoff? Would they find it intriguing, or too strange to contemplate? Thaddeus had never felt such things with regard to the initiation – to him it all fit perfectly, but then, he was already deeply committed to his clan.
His thoughts burned steadily on in the background as he watched the ceremony continue, a ghost of a smile touching his features when Morrigan helped Fallon to her feet. It was finished, then, and they could enjoy a night of subdued, contemplative celebration.
Well…knowing some of his clanmates, perhaps subdued was not exactly accurate, and to be fair it wasn’t as though he would be able to calmly wander off and go about his business until he knew Fallon was out of the tunnel. Some people handled the waiting aspect differently, was all, though he would admit he fell into the uptight end of the spectrum in that matter.
Finding one’s way out of the tunnel was something he had not understood the purpose of until he had experienced it for himself. It had the outward appearance of being a little harsh, perhaps, that final trial after going through such an eventful time, but he found it was a wise choice, for him at least. Possibly everyone handled that aspect differently.
In any case, it was time to make the quiet exit from the chamber, and he followed behind Morrigan in silence.
/ooc Thaddeus out
He had always thought it odd that he could remember so little about this part of the ceremony, the part where the initiate drank of the cup, but a wave of something like nostalgia struck him when Fallon lifted the chalice to her lips. Perhaps it was simply the scent of blood in the air mingling with the incense. In any case, he may not remember his own experience perfectly, but it was in him nonetheless.
He wondered what younger vampires, born in this age, must make of the ceremony – was there a certain Anantya character inherent that made it easier to take drinking the blood of your brethren in stride, no matter what time you came into being? What would a Tacharan make of this ritual, if they were aware of it? Would they scoff? Would they find it intriguing, or too strange to contemplate? Thaddeus had never felt such things with regard to the initiation – to him it all fit perfectly, but then, he was already deeply committed to his clan.
His thoughts burned steadily on in the background as he watched the ceremony continue, a ghost of a smile touching his features when Morrigan helped Fallon to her feet. It was finished, then, and they could enjoy a night of subdued, contemplative celebration.
Well…knowing some of his clanmates, perhaps subdued was not exactly accurate, and to be fair it wasn’t as though he would be able to calmly wander off and go about his business until he knew Fallon was out of the tunnel. Some people handled the waiting aspect differently, was all, though he would admit he fell into the uptight end of the spectrum in that matter.
Finding one’s way out of the tunnel was something he had not understood the purpose of until he had experienced it for himself. It had the outward appearance of being a little harsh, perhaps, that final trial after going through such an eventful time, but he found it was a wise choice, for him at least. Possibly everyone handled that aspect differently.
In any case, it was time to make the quiet exit from the chamber, and he followed behind Morrigan in silence.
/ooc Thaddeus out
Palmer
18 years ago
Palmer breathed in the rich scents of the chamber slowly, finding the atmosphere nearly exotic in its differences from home, and observed as the blade and chalice went around the room, carried by that ever silent attendant. He had the likely irreverent thought that there was no way in God’s green earth he would –ever- sign up for that duty. Even if his vocal cords fell off tomorrow, never to be recovered. He loved his clan, and his order for that matter, but he would go stark raving mad if he could never communicate, whether the language be spoken or written, ever again.
Gave him the creeps, the up and down creeps, just thinking about year after year of silence, and he wondered what sort of person you would have to be to choose the life of an Unspeakable, to take your own muteness to that extreme. He had heard stories of huntsman who had self mutilated in order to become an Unspeakable, and while he actually thought (hoped?) that was a bunch of crap…
Deciding he was scaring himself for no good reason, no good reason at all, when he should be paying close attention, he cleared his mind completely and focused on observing as Fallon (his constant monologue that he could never –really- shut up interjected that Fallon was a rather pretty name) took the chalice and began to drink. His fangs gave a little throb, as though to remind him they were still there, but he knew it was just a reaction to the blood and not true need. Just the same, it was a good, sharp awareness.
Thinking Morrigan helping Fallon to her feet made a captivating picture for reasons he couldn’t quite place, he smiled along with the Elder of the Rose and, unbeknownst to him, his pale blonde friend, as the final words were said.
Then he followed Thaddeus out of the chamber, feeling especially elated and ready to celebrate while they waited. He mused that perhaps the greater formality meant that this group would –really- let loose, sort of like Catholic school girls on a Friday night, and if Blaine knew what he was thinking he was liable to get smacked over the side of the head.
/ooc Palmer out…and now I have mental images of Anantya all dressed up in catholic school girl uniforms. Thanks Palmer *smacks*
Gave him the creeps, the up and down creeps, just thinking about year after year of silence, and he wondered what sort of person you would have to be to choose the life of an Unspeakable, to take your own muteness to that extreme. He had heard stories of huntsman who had self mutilated in order to become an Unspeakable, and while he actually thought (hoped?) that was a bunch of crap…
Deciding he was scaring himself for no good reason, no good reason at all, when he should be paying close attention, he cleared his mind completely and focused on observing as Fallon (his constant monologue that he could never –really- shut up interjected that Fallon was a rather pretty name) took the chalice and began to drink. His fangs gave a little throb, as though to remind him they were still there, but he knew it was just a reaction to the blood and not true need. Just the same, it was a good, sharp awareness.
Thinking Morrigan helping Fallon to her feet made a captivating picture for reasons he couldn’t quite place, he smiled along with the Elder of the Rose and, unbeknownst to him, his pale blonde friend, as the final words were said.
Then he followed Thaddeus out of the chamber, feeling especially elated and ready to celebrate while they waited. He mused that perhaps the greater formality meant that this group would –really- let loose, sort of like Catholic school girls on a Friday night, and if Blaine knew what he was thinking he was liable to get smacked over the side of the head.
/ooc Palmer out…and now I have mental images of Anantya all dressed up in catholic school girl uniforms. Thanks Palmer *smacks*
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel let the words and the motions of the ritual resound in her head, superimposed over her memories of past attendances and past initiates. At the very root of it all was her own initiation, such a distant memory but brought into vivid remembrace with the stimulus of the ceremony happening around her.
Throughout the whole thing Ysabel guided her thoughts to positive expressions and well-wishes for the newcomer, but when it was over she turned to leave and didn't look back. The initiate would have to find her own way now with just the reassurance that her clan would be tehre waiting for her. It was a matter of trust, in one's clan and in oneself. They'd all done it before her; it was unnerving but not impossible.
With a faint smile Ysabel bowed her head and looked at the ground as she walked, in a somber, tranquil mood brought on by her memories of the past. Perhaps she would simply curl up with a good book tonight and enjoy the peace.
((ooc: Ysabel out))
Throughout the whole thing Ysabel guided her thoughts to positive expressions and well-wishes for the newcomer, but when it was over she turned to leave and didn't look back. The initiate would have to find her own way now with just the reassurance that her clan would be tehre waiting for her. It was a matter of trust, in one's clan and in oneself. They'd all done it before her; it was unnerving but not impossible.
With a faint smile Ysabel bowed her head and looked at the ground as she walked, in a somber, tranquil mood brought on by her memories of the past. Perhaps she would simply curl up with a good book tonight and enjoy the peace.
((ooc: Ysabel out))
Sorin
18 years ago
Sorin considered thanking all the gods that the ritual was coming to a close but by his customs that generally involved more ritual though he did throw up a silent thank you for the brevity of the words and the quickness through which the last portion was carried out.
He got the sense that Claire was watching him and that puzzled him a bit. It could be, and probably was, his own imagination but he wondered why he would notice or even care what his child was thinking. Still, he found himself smiling slightly at the thought.
He remembered her ritual well enough, long ago as it was and back in France. He had been visiting there at the time but it was very useful for his relationship with the local elders to go through that ceremony there with them. Leaving Claire amongst them was a wise choice as well. They believed he held strong ties to their city and he had someone able to give him useful information on their workings for the length of her stay. It was a relationship that still had strength today, the elders in that city were still quite amiable to his presence and ideas even to this day.
His own ritual had taken place in Rome at his request. His creator had wished to have him initiated in Athens were he had been made a vampire but he wanted to be greeted as one of the clan in his home city. A city that he had since abandoned after the short sightedness by the humans there. It took him many years to find the will to return but he felt that the Anantya there harbored him no ill will for his human identity and most remembered the truth of the situation and not what the history books made of his reign. Fiddled indeed!
Sorin frowned at these recollections and realized that while he had been remembering the past, as these damn things always seemed to cause him to do, the circle had begun to move out. Glancing up, he looked around the crowd of hooded figures for his daughter in hopes of catching a glimpse of her reassuring face but it was useless with everyone turned towards the exit and him in the back of the line. He would simply have to find her upstairs.
((OOC: His assumptions are purely the result of his own crazed mind and perhaps of him wanting a little security with all that is going on for him... but he'd never admit that. ))
He got the sense that Claire was watching him and that puzzled him a bit. It could be, and probably was, his own imagination but he wondered why he would notice or even care what his child was thinking. Still, he found himself smiling slightly at the thought.
He remembered her ritual well enough, long ago as it was and back in France. He had been visiting there at the time but it was very useful for his relationship with the local elders to go through that ceremony there with them. Leaving Claire amongst them was a wise choice as well. They believed he held strong ties to their city and he had someone able to give him useful information on their workings for the length of her stay. It was a relationship that still had strength today, the elders in that city were still quite amiable to his presence and ideas even to this day.
His own ritual had taken place in Rome at his request. His creator had wished to have him initiated in Athens were he had been made a vampire but he wanted to be greeted as one of the clan in his home city. A city that he had since abandoned after the short sightedness by the humans there. It took him many years to find the will to return but he felt that the Anantya there harbored him no ill will for his human identity and most remembered the truth of the situation and not what the history books made of his reign. Fiddled indeed!
Sorin frowned at these recollections and realized that while he had been remembering the past, as these damn things always seemed to cause him to do, the circle had begun to move out. Glancing up, he looked around the crowd of hooded figures for his daughter in hopes of catching a glimpse of her reassuring face but it was useless with everyone turned towards the exit and him in the back of the line. He would simply have to find her upstairs.
((OOC: His assumptions are purely the result of his own crazed mind and perhaps of him wanting a little security with all that is going on for him... but he'd never admit that. ))
Claire
18 years ago
Their part in the ceremony was coming to a close, unless one considered the party and waiting a part of their duty to the newly joined member. Claire supposed that it was of importance as well, a show of comradery and support, by sometimes dubious, means but still with good intentions.
One of the elders of London told her once that during one of their Initiation Rituals the person seemed to be having difficulty getting out of the maze of twisting corridors in a timely manner and so one helpful and very drunk clan mate decided to be of assistance with a ball of twine rolled out behind him. Unfortunately he was too drunk to remember his own way out and was found later by a disapproving Unspeakable who had to lead the way... by which time the new clan mate had already made it back to the surface.
Claire doubted that Fallon would have such troubles though she could not say that such an attempt at 'helpfulness' would never happen in Nachton. She watched as Fallon was welcomed by the Elder of the Rose as a member of the clan and followed the others as they filed out of room.
Though partying was not something she reveled in, she would wait with her clan mates and do her best to add to the festivities. She wondered if Sorin would stay for the party or if he had plans for later in the evening. She hoped he would stay, even if he ended up caught up in conversation, it would make her feel better to know he was around.
/ooc Claire out
One of the elders of London told her once that during one of their Initiation Rituals the person seemed to be having difficulty getting out of the maze of twisting corridors in a timely manner and so one helpful and very drunk clan mate decided to be of assistance with a ball of twine rolled out behind him. Unfortunately he was too drunk to remember his own way out and was found later by a disapproving Unspeakable who had to lead the way... by which time the new clan mate had already made it back to the surface.
Claire doubted that Fallon would have such troubles though she could not say that such an attempt at 'helpfulness' would never happen in Nachton. She watched as Fallon was welcomed by the Elder of the Rose as a member of the clan and followed the others as they filed out of room.
Though partying was not something she reveled in, she would wait with her clan mates and do her best to add to the festivities. She wondered if Sorin would stay for the party or if he had plans for later in the evening. She hoped he would stay, even if he ended up caught up in conversation, it would make her feel better to know he was around.
/ooc Claire out
Cyrus
18 years ago
Cyrus watched his fledgeling become his clanmate. It made him proud of her on one hand, but the other was excited at the prospect of having her as his own. Becoming clanmates put them on more equal footing and no one would frown upon their very close association now. Watching her slim throat stretched upwards as she drank from the chalice caused him to be very glad of the long robe.
Soon they were filing out and he momentariliy worried about his kitten being left alone in this place. Reminding himself that she was strong, smart and fully capable of this last hurdle he followed his clanmates out after bowing deeply to her.
Knowing they would celebrate he had worn a nice silk shirt and black leather pants under his robe. Only his boots hid his weapons since he was among family. Noting the crowd he hoped to renew acquaintances with many Anantya here tonight that he had not seen in centuries.
((Cyrus out))
Soon they were filing out and he momentariliy worried about his kitten being left alone in this place. Reminding himself that she was strong, smart and fully capable of this last hurdle he followed his clanmates out after bowing deeply to her.
Knowing they would celebrate he had worn a nice silk shirt and black leather pants under his robe. Only his boots hid his weapons since he was among family. Noting the crowd he hoped to renew acquaintances with many Anantya here tonight that he had not seen in centuries.
((Cyrus out))