Luna's Haven~closed save for invitees.

Thanks draggy. Is an idea for a thread that Noon and I are hammering out...

It actually would be perfect for one of my character ideas. Female angel, twin to the Devil himself, after having walked away from the war between heaven and hell, ends up in the body of a young human male a thousand or more years later. Right about the time the Heavenly Host decide to go to war. And since they aren't concerning themselves with humanity's survival, she and her host decide to step between them.
 
Sounds interesting, though would be difficult to play if the female is inside the male...
 
Tired, achy, wanting to go home, wanting to write. I'm only doing that last one. *grins, and goes to post for Amanda*

*laughs* I've been watching Initial D. And I have to say the more I watch it, the more I think it was a mistake to start watching it. I keep getting irritated at the fact that I don't have a car at all, let alone the one I want.
 
Poppet, go check your PM's before you write Amanda's response, please.
Draggy, I am sorry but I am not good company. I probably won't be for a while...so if you will excuse me?

fades into her cabin and locks the door
 
Poppet, go check your PM's before you write Amanda's response, please.
Draggy, I am sorry but I am not good company. I probably won't be for a while...so if you will excuse me?

fades into her cabin and locks the door

*gives her a hug before she goes* Okay. I'll retire to the keep or the Pegasus Wings.
 
I want~
to beat someone until they bleed
rivulets of fire branded on too firm flesh.

I want~
to hear tears that can't be stopped
by anyone, for any reason.

I want~
to take someone down the dark path
and leave them there, broken, hurting.

I want~
to work out my pain on something
stronger than it knows.

I want~
this to be over, now, so that I can
do something else, anything else, with some one else.
 
There is music playing but it isn't uplifting, nor trance inducing...it just is. The windows are barred, the curtains are drawn, the doors are locked. The wolf is alone, lonely, sad, and in need of something violent. Very violent. So she sits alone...and worries herself into a funk that nothing will ease.
 
Immersion. That is what I need. Total immersion. So that my brain stops making odd noises at me. Bare feet lead me upstairs to the bathroom, to my bedroom. The clothing that I had worn to his retreat are tossed in the hamper. They will not be worn again, not for a while.

Though I do miss the panties.

Warm water starting in the pure white porcelain of my tub. A long soak. A deep breath...and new clothing. That is what I need. That is all I need. But Gods, I wish the red one were here. I don't know how much longer I can keep this need at bay.
 
Gone with a pop and a sigh into the Real World. Maybe, I will return a little later.
 
The slow steady tap tap tap of words being forced into some semblance of order. Thought process is slow.
 
I have a hankering, nay, a need, for blood shed. For brutal, mindless, violence that borders on the obscene. I don't want slow, stately, sweet. I want to ravage. To force and brutalize. To take and take and take until the other person is begging for me to please quit, please stop...please oh please.

I have a yearning for something pretty tied with a bow and forced to the edge of sanity. I want to torment, to cut, to pluck, to humiliate. I want blood~in pretty streaming little rivulets. I want to hear begging. I need to hear screaming. I want to hurt someone for the sheer fucking joy of watching them fall apart.

I want to take a male and break him. Take a female and HURT her. I want to use high heels to grind, knives to cut, whips to bruise and batter. I want to whisper all of the awful things I feel, think, see...in the shell of their ear. I want to batten on them like a vampire bat.

I want to forget I have a conscience.
 
Pretty Pictures

Body bound by ropes, corseted tightly, eyes streaming with mascara that burns.

Bruises in the shape of fingertips.

A wound that bleeds, slowly, seeping...from a thigh, a testicle, a back.

Turning a body into nothing more than my furniture.

Turning a person into nothing more than a hole for my use.

Watching someone bend so far that they are almost broken.

Giving NO aftercare.

Walking away.
 
Is this normal? Probably. When one has no control, one establishes it as soon as they can. Is this a dominance game? No...because I am dominant...there is no need for a fucking game. It isn't what I do on line, it is WHO I am.

I am going absolutely bug shit. Gotta do something about this...and soon. Where the hell is my red one?
 
Focus on writing for other threads. But who do i have to write for? Ondine isn't due yet, no one has advanced us from point A to point B. She is crazy enough that I could write out the need for blood, for sheer brutality and wrap it in a big red bow, and it would help.

But she isn't due.

Celestine can't be posted until Marissa goes...even then...her orderly ways may devolve if I attempt to wrote her now. She may end up a mindless brute, attempting to kill something for no apparent reason...

That wouldn't be good.
 
It is always a struggle to get back into the swing of things. Always a hassle. What, with the way people come and go, the way patients are termed as cured and moved on to other places. So many gone. Stella, Jackie, Bobbi, Tammy. Others whose names Celestine can not quite recall.

Others arrive~Alicia, Belle~'Gotta look in on them...'

Her thoughts are a mess. A tornado. So many things to accomplish. To do.
 
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I walk up to the cabin...should I enter???

Something tells me it is best not to. Therefore, I won't.

I will see my love soon.
 
My brain grumbles at me. So does my belly. I gotta get ready for work soon. My all nighter. Don't want to though. Want to stay home, hide, wait until this day is all over. Not gonna happen. I know it.

I would really like to beat...something.
 
My brain grumbles at me. So does my belly. I gotta get ready for work soon. My all nighter. Don't want to though. Want to stay home, hide, wait until this day is all over. Not gonna happen. I know it.

I would really like to beat...something.
Can you take it out on your subordinates?
 
10-25-11

Another year of missing my mother. She would be 58, today. I think about people who haven't lost a family member~a mother, a child, a father~and I wonder if they know just how lucky they are.

I hate it, when I hear people bitching about their families, their significant others, their kids. They don't know how fucking easy they have it, that the very people they are bitching about are still there to BE bitched about.

I wish my mum was here. I wish my best friend (who passed away at the age of 24 due to AIDS) was still here. I wish my baby sister was still here. I wish the child I lost at age 25 was still here. But none of them are...and it hurts. It's a pain that I would wish on NO ONE.

Even those I despise.

It is hard to maintain the type of distance that I can get by with, during most of the year. Stupidity, something that normally doesn't bother me, becomes too large to handle. Betrayal, something I expect from most people, becomes a stone that weighs upon my heart like a boulder. The smallest things become large things because I am trying to maintain some sense.

I should stop it.

Anyway, this bit of writing is what it is. A place for me to give vent to three things.
I miss my mommy. I love my mommy...and I wish like fuck that she was still here, with me.

RIP Donna Mae. Til next year.
 
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