Ruerot - Blog Posts

She flashes the stranger a half-hearted smile; a tinge of sadness crossing her brow as she muses a moment on the man her brother had become - perhaps always was deep down. A tyrant, no amount of power would ever be enough for him. Much like their father to the drink, power was Aro's vice and here he was centuries on ensuring a constant supply. "I am not my brother, I would not make you do anything."

Placing the coat down next to her, Didyme sighs as she smooths the fabric of her skirt before rising to face her would-be executioner. "I believe in choosing the path that brings one delight. The one that makes your heart sing." Marcus. He had been her chosen path, and Aro couldn't even let her have that. She almost forgets herself, as if she is talking to a friend and not a foe. A grin of pearly whites quickly drops, her guard locking back into place. Throat clears, arms delicately folding at her chest. "Simply indulge me one last question, bloodhound, what would your chosen path be were you not sent to sniff out Aro's political enemies? Do you have a name?" Beneath the artificial contentedness she could sense in him, she was sure there had to be questions, desire to feel something true. She wonders if her Marcus was being held under the same pretense, her fingers reaching for the note to him in her pocket were she to not make it out of this.

“it is not my job to believe, or to listen. I think you know this.” Demetri spoke evenly, conscious effort to conceal his reaction to her. bloodhound, indeed. loyal tracker following a scent to its conclusion. capture or death. death or capture. again, again, again, again, again, & again. he didn’t let himself think about how long he had been doing this ( he still did not know that someone else would not let him think this, the thought only briefly entering his head before it would be ripped away again, leaving only an absence. "silly boy," Amun's voice would've echoed in his head, were his memories of his maker not blocked also ). 

she was legend more than she was real to him. whispers traded ever-so carefully within the limits of the white marble halls. mournful laments of Aro. his beloved sister, slain in war. innocent of everything, guilty of nothing. in truth, always a justification rather than an expression of unadulterated grief.

he should get this over with. he should fulfill his duty. & yet, this was not an ordinary hunt. despite himself, curiosity rose in his chest. 

“but if it was, what would you try & make me believe ?”

"It's funny, I'm more wounded than I imagined I would be that he has sent one of his bloodhounds to finish me off rather than carrying out the task himself." Didyme sighs almost as if to herself, but she has sensed the other vampire in the room behind her as she finishes off a stich in the coat at her lap. There seemed to be an overabundance of garments in the world today, though she found it calming to make her own as she often had in the old world. The one before her brother had committed the ultimate act of betrayal that had placed her in the ground for millennia only to come gasping dirt and blood into this strange, changed world.

Though she has been attempting to keep a low profile, she suspected it was only a matter of time before her awakening got back to Aro. She had been tracking his coven from a distance as carefully as she could, planning her next move. But her eldest brother had spent longer here, and expanded his empire to the point of being near untouchable. "I suspect he has also told you not to believe a word I say." A sad, yet determined look is shot the strangers way. She'd always had a way with others that her brother hadn't. Perhaps she could still spin this in her favour. "Tell me, what do you believe?"

@ruerot (for demetri from didyme hehe)