"Don't worry I'll ta-ah,"He ended early with a little groan of pleasure as her fangs broke skin and anchored into his vein. The tug and pull of the blood away from him made him dizzy or maybe it was simply her. For decades it seems that such closeness to her would never truly come to pass in the waning century. He held the back of her head, pressing it against him.
But he had to focus. And as best he could, with the many stories of his unlife without her, he tried to organize it all into something that would not give her a headache--at the least. It was there, in the shuffling of thoughts, that the story (from his perspective only, of course) flipped through his mind. Amelia had been infected. She had asked Matayas to take her to the stone church where they had been married. And the last thing he knew, the moment the world changed, was when that treacherous bastard killed his own wife. Lothoro rushed in, saw, and killed Matayas who almost seemed to expect it. The memory he wished to hold back, for Selene's sake, was the aftermath. Matayas was dead to the world, yes. But not to the Underworld. Not in the least bit. Actually, he was very much a part of it. Lothoro tried to hold back just how much. A seemingly insignificant picture of a sword--his--clanging on the ground as he let it drop from his fingers, stood crisp against the haze. The cascade of memories after that were of a man who tried to reconcile the past in the monasteries of Nepal, failed, and chose a path of murder, scorn and contempt while still searching for answers on how to stop Matayas from doing what he was...and those images, that plan, he leased so close to him that she would have to rip it out from his heart to get to. Of course she would know that there were missing pieces...but he could live with that.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-01-02 08:51 pm (UTC)But he had to focus. And as best he could, with the many stories of his unlife without her, he tried to organize it all into something that would not give her a headache--at the least. It was there, in the shuffling of thoughts, that the story (from his perspective only, of course) flipped through his mind. Amelia had been infected. She had asked Matayas to take her to the stone church where they had been married. And the last thing he knew, the moment the world changed, was when that treacherous bastard killed his own wife. Lothoro rushed in, saw, and killed Matayas who almost seemed to expect it. The memory he wished to hold back, for Selene's sake, was the aftermath. Matayas was dead to the world, yes. But not to the Underworld. Not in the least bit. Actually, he was very much a part of it. Lothoro tried to hold back just how much. A seemingly insignificant picture of a sword--his--clanging on the ground as he let it drop from his fingers, stood crisp against the haze. The cascade of memories after that were of a man who tried to reconcile the past in the monasteries of Nepal, failed, and chose a path of murder, scorn and contempt while still searching for answers on how to stop Matayas from doing what he was...and those images, that plan, he leased so close to him that she would have to rip it out from his heart to get to. Of course she would know that there were missing pieces...but he could live with that.