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Entry tags:
Who You Are
Story: Who You Are
Year: 986 FY
Characters: Tana
Warnings: Vampirism, Tana, references to one-sided incest.
It's easier even than Tana thought, to hide the choice she made from her family. She finds a long list of perfectly reasonable excuses to stay away during daylight, she's a very neat eater. No bloodstains to give her away, oh no. And, of course, Daddy would refuse to believe any signs he did see, because he's Daddy.
(A part of her is almost a little disappointed that Kellom didn't notice; she thought better of him.)
Still, as much as it makes her life simpler, and neater, Tana sometimes chafes a little at having to hide all the time. It's not difficult, exactly, but it is exhausting. So many little things to keep track of.
On those nights, when she's feeling particularly restless, she puts on her favorite dress--backless and soft, sparkling and ice blue--and sneaks downtown to one of the licensed vampire clubs. There, she can be everything she wants from her new self. She can be violent and deadly, and beautiful and irresistible, and kind and cruel all at once and it is intoxicating. She understands, now, why there are people who chose vampirism for the romance of it, rather than the enhanced strength and senses.
Some nights, she finds a girl there, one who reminds her of someone she hates, so she can be as aggressive as she's allowed and work out some of her frustration. Or, if she's feeling more lonely than cranky, she'll find a man who reminds her of Kellom, and seduce him so completely, because for one night, she can pretend that her brother loves all of her, exactly the way she wants him to.
When the night is over, she makes her way back up to her apartment, kicks off her heels and peels off her dress, leaving it in a puddle on the floor. She doesn't sleep in a coffin--because that is a ridiculous cliche and she's better than that--but she buries herself in a pile of blankets, sated and satisfied with who and what she is, and the life she has chosen.
At least until the next time she wants, desperately, to scream it to the skies.
Year: 986 FY
Characters: Tana
Warnings: Vampirism, Tana, references to one-sided incest.
It's easier even than Tana thought, to hide the choice she made from her family. She finds a long list of perfectly reasonable excuses to stay away during daylight, she's a very neat eater. No bloodstains to give her away, oh no. And, of course, Daddy would refuse to believe any signs he did see, because he's Daddy.
(A part of her is almost a little disappointed that Kellom didn't notice; she thought better of him.)
Still, as much as it makes her life simpler, and neater, Tana sometimes chafes a little at having to hide all the time. It's not difficult, exactly, but it is exhausting. So many little things to keep track of.
On those nights, when she's feeling particularly restless, she puts on her favorite dress--backless and soft, sparkling and ice blue--and sneaks downtown to one of the licensed vampire clubs. There, she can be everything she wants from her new self. She can be violent and deadly, and beautiful and irresistible, and kind and cruel all at once and it is intoxicating. She understands, now, why there are people who chose vampirism for the romance of it, rather than the enhanced strength and senses.
Some nights, she finds a girl there, one who reminds her of someone she hates, so she can be as aggressive as she's allowed and work out some of her frustration. Or, if she's feeling more lonely than cranky, she'll find a man who reminds her of Kellom, and seduce him so completely, because for one night, she can pretend that her brother loves all of her, exactly the way she wants him to.
When the night is over, she makes her way back up to her apartment, kicks off her heels and peels off her dress, leaving it in a puddle on the floor. She doesn't sleep in a coffin--because that is a ridiculous cliche and she's better than that--but she buries herself in a pile of blankets, sated and satisfied with who and what she is, and the life she has chosen.
At least until the next time she wants, desperately, to scream it to the skies.