O.D. 2.7.2000 [12:51 p.m.]

(Yeeeeesh, and another!! A fragment of one, at least. I think the gist of it is Mercedes, then his Ductus, told him to quit flaunting his shadows. This eventually causes him to challenge her for Ductus-hood.)

[Mercedes Diveneto]

Mon 16:34 EST ::She expected this..this anger this hostility Caine's vitae pumping in her viens even as she speaks even as he holds her..Slowly the stregth builds and build pushing him off of her body with a final grunt:: "control yourself..bestia. You will do this thing.." ::and the words are left unsaid, 'or challenge me'::

[Victor DiSperanza]

Mon 16:40 EST As she pushes him off he catches her hands and holds them fast, grinding bone against bone. "Will I? Perhaps we will kill each other first. And then the precious pack will be safe."

[Mercedes Diveneto]

Mon 16:45 EST ::Her eyes narrow the Griffin awakening slowly, rousing its sleepy head from the land of blissful dormancy--He may have speed gifted to him for a moment but she had the grace that walked with her forever--who would be more proficent:: "do you prize yourself so highly? above all else kingmaker?" ::her voice high an d strident over to the darkest of promises:: I will not kill you vittoriomio..I would stake you for treason...::again the taunt--Or challenge me.::

[Victor DiSperanza]

Mon 17:00 EST It is too soon--all too soon. The thrill of the kill; the chill of Death's hand passing so very close; and now, this. Perhaps the wall between mind and soul, once so very strong, falters. Perhaps for a flash of an instant, memory, guilt, hurt, and emotion floods back. Perhaps...

"Do you prize your hands? Do you prize your mind? Do you prize your art? I want to show you something. I want you to feel something."

He takes her hand in both of his and, turning his back to her to fend off the doubtless rain of blows, rips and tears at the fingerknives until, at last, they clatter to the floor. Then, brutally, (No.) he slides his fingers through hers and forces his palm upon hers.

Shadows stream, living shadows, against the strain of her palm--shadows, bearing their own strange consciousness, smoky-dark and eternal, flooding her mind with an unwelcome overload of sense. (Do you feel it?) This is what she asks him to abandon: his shadows. His shadows, with their memories of a world so ancient that even their minds cannot quite comprehend the timespan; his shadows, with their blind vision, their unfeeling touch; his shadows, as the shadowtwister knew them--not mere tools, nor even weapons, but allies, lovers, and, if the word still applied to a monster as he, friends. (Do you understand?)

And then he throws her hand down--how long had it all taken? No more than an instant--an instant as long as forever. He turns and stalks away down the hall, one angry hand reaching out to flick the light off. "You bitch," he spits as the door closes behind him. "Your wish will be done."

[Mercedes Diveneto]

Mon 17:08 EST ::She is stone, marble, ice..unshakeable inertia..until the door closes.

Dosen't he know...the truth? Dosen't he know that his pain IS her pain... She may glory in his suffering at her hands--but not like this--not like this. The siblings quarrel, the siblings fight, but each are only as much as one half the other. She will do what she must do..the pack must survive, as she will (this hurtful blow of blows)....and so will he::