Post by Eaving on Sept 21, 2008 8:05:19 GMT -5
Haven wandered the alleys and backstreets of the Imperial City. The day was grey and stormy, far off thunder rumbled, sending people scattering for their homes and hearths. Not Haven. She walked, exploring the darker side of the city. The otherworld that emerged only when the moral eyes were averted.
A world where all men were bastards and women had to be harder than the walls around the city. Where flesh was a commodity and innocence a myth. This was a world she knew. And suprisingly, one she had grown to love.
Haven pulled her leather coat tighter around herself for warmth against the bitting wind and took a deep breath. She could smell rain in the distance, as well as the cool, crisp smell of winter. There was the stink of human waste and the decades of grime -the despair, the sex and the murder- that stained the cobblestones.
Seedy men stuck their heads out of dark alcoves to whistle and hoot as she walked past, calling out to her suggestions that would make a normal woman's stomach turn. Haven dismissed them with a derisive laugh and obscence gesture. Men in this world were easy to deal with. Haven understood them. Show a little backbone or a little cleavage and they were easy enough to manipulate.
There were only two men she had yet to understand. The first was Sevan. Her first friend, her sire, and a man she had not seen for a long, long time. There were moments she longed for his steady, silent company. The second, and the one more on her mind, was her lover, Aldrethi. The eternal gentleman and vampire. He was one she would never understand. His care and kind words were as unfamiliar to her as flight. But Haven decided she liked it that way.
The men lost interest and let her be, and Haven continued her walk, breath misting before her face as she thought over those two men. Sevan she had not seen since the battle between the Morag Tong and the Brotherhood. Many had died then, but she did not think him dead. In fact, the wolf in her knew he wasn't dead. And Haven found that pleasing. Her lover on the other hand, well, they had parted ways a month ago in Cheydinhal, meaning to return to their respective patrons. Haven was not sure what had become of Dreth, for she surely had not returned to the Morag Tong. While once the idea had some merit Haven no longer wished to return to those particular bonds of slavery. She had been her own woman for too long, and the idea to returning to mouthing petty obesience to men was more than she could bare.
Haven had made an existance for herself here in these dark byways. A member of the sisterhood of whores, one might say, but Haven didn't see it that way. Sisters for sure, accepted among the prostitutes, welcomed into their circles even though she was not one who sold her flesh. Haven had given up her old games, well maybe not 'given up', but downgraded. She no longer tricked and tempted men to her bed and their deaths. She told herself it was because she tired of that game, but deep down she knew it was Dreth. As much as she teased him with her other pleasures, she could not be with another and not think of him.
So she no longer hunted, she merely killed and took what she needed. Sometimes it was a man who had been giving certain women trouble, sometimes it was a man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way she enjoyed herself.
Haven was snapped from her reviere by a female scream and the sounds of a scuffle in a nearby alley. She scowled, hunched her shoulders and hurried towards the noise, ignoring the excitement that flowered in her gut.
A world where all men were bastards and women had to be harder than the walls around the city. Where flesh was a commodity and innocence a myth. This was a world she knew. And suprisingly, one she had grown to love.
Haven pulled her leather coat tighter around herself for warmth against the bitting wind and took a deep breath. She could smell rain in the distance, as well as the cool, crisp smell of winter. There was the stink of human waste and the decades of grime -the despair, the sex and the murder- that stained the cobblestones.
Seedy men stuck their heads out of dark alcoves to whistle and hoot as she walked past, calling out to her suggestions that would make a normal woman's stomach turn. Haven dismissed them with a derisive laugh and obscence gesture. Men in this world were easy to deal with. Haven understood them. Show a little backbone or a little cleavage and they were easy enough to manipulate.
There were only two men she had yet to understand. The first was Sevan. Her first friend, her sire, and a man she had not seen for a long, long time. There were moments she longed for his steady, silent company. The second, and the one more on her mind, was her lover, Aldrethi. The eternal gentleman and vampire. He was one she would never understand. His care and kind words were as unfamiliar to her as flight. But Haven decided she liked it that way.
The men lost interest and let her be, and Haven continued her walk, breath misting before her face as she thought over those two men. Sevan she had not seen since the battle between the Morag Tong and the Brotherhood. Many had died then, but she did not think him dead. In fact, the wolf in her knew he wasn't dead. And Haven found that pleasing. Her lover on the other hand, well, they had parted ways a month ago in Cheydinhal, meaning to return to their respective patrons. Haven was not sure what had become of Dreth, for she surely had not returned to the Morag Tong. While once the idea had some merit Haven no longer wished to return to those particular bonds of slavery. She had been her own woman for too long, and the idea to returning to mouthing petty obesience to men was more than she could bare.
Haven had made an existance for herself here in these dark byways. A member of the sisterhood of whores, one might say, but Haven didn't see it that way. Sisters for sure, accepted among the prostitutes, welcomed into their circles even though she was not one who sold her flesh. Haven had given up her old games, well maybe not 'given up', but downgraded. She no longer tricked and tempted men to her bed and their deaths. She told herself it was because she tired of that game, but deep down she knew it was Dreth. As much as she teased him with her other pleasures, she could not be with another and not think of him.
So she no longer hunted, she merely killed and took what she needed. Sometimes it was a man who had been giving certain women trouble, sometimes it was a man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way she enjoyed herself.
Haven was snapped from her reviere by a female scream and the sounds of a scuffle in a nearby alley. She scowled, hunched her shoulders and hurried towards the noise, ignoring the excitement that flowered in her gut.