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Great Lakes May Featured Game of the Month (May 29-30, Chicago, http://chikalb.wikispaces.com/ ) “The awful daring of a moment's surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed”—T.S. Eliot In the world of darkness, decadence and remorse meet together on the coat tails of antiquated history and sacred traditions. Monsters who by night gather together in the shadows of light to prevent their slip to the beast, meet in a macabre setting of yellowed lace and flawless masks of gilt. They gather for their last semblance of humanity. They cling to the cloying embrace of their Princes’ Assembly, a yearly tradition to prevent the crumbling of their own society to the quickly evolving mortal herd that only recently they controlled. They gather to discuss their future. They whisper of diseases that spoil them and spare the kine, and forgotten monstrosities from ages past. Come to the yearly gathering of the Midwest Assembly of Princes. Come and celebrate in the night what it means to be a Vampire. Celebrate the blood and the history, the ceremony and the decadence, and live it all without remorse. “At any rate, let us love for a while, for a year or so, you and me. That's a form of divine drunkenness that we can all try. There are only diamonds in the whole world, diamonds and perhaps the shabby gift of disillusion.”—F. Scott Fitzgerald Together for a handful of days, they assemble to celebrate what it means to be kindred. In a manner different from previous years, our theme isn’t a particular era or style, but a tone. In an effort to create an emotion, a feeling, and a thematic presence, consider ‘theme’ in a literary sense. We are creating a theme for our event that is all encompassing, but also unlimited as to the interpretation therein: Gilded Decadence. “Decadence is a difficult word to use since it has become little more than a term of abuse applied by critics to anything they do not yet understand or which seems to differ from their moral concepts.”—Ernest Hemingway Formal wear will be expected for the Summit of the Princes. Wear your finery. Dress in your elaborate party skin. We are living in a time of uncertainty. This year the Assembly gathers in the shadow of empire: Feeling the weight of their own ambitions and potential, the sovereigns’ debate over the reawakening of ancient ranks, the striges calling in their debts, and the sanctity of domain in the looming presence of Meritocracies and imperiums. Others, obsessed with the uncertainty of the future, dance themselves to dust in the wings of the night. Be it wedding or wake; join us for our fin de siècle. “And nothing to look backward to with pride, And nothing to look forward to with hope.” – Robert Frost Chikalb; The Bang Before the Whimper! Come to the Third Annual ChiKalb! May 29-30th, at the Sheraton Suites in Elk Grove, IL. Pre Register now, not only do you save money on the door price, but you ensure that you can use all those nifty Approvals! Event, hotel, and pre-registration information available at: http://chikalb.wikispaces.com/
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Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,—wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse.
The grandest gatherings of the year always left one feeling slightly pekish and out of sorts. This year, the feeling grated across her nerves with a ferocity that she could neither contain, nor resist.
A sense of hope curled within her, an emotion so unfamiliar, so cold and twisted that she couldn't begin to place it. It moved within her, throughout the core of HER.
She closed her eyes, letting its warmth wash over her. She knew it was different, but wasn't sure how, couldn't quite place it. It was as if the blinds had been left open, and the sun's warmth poured in. Uncomfortable during the brightness of night, roasting all of the furniture within the quiet private room of her mind.
She met Ani before they left together to go to the gathering, and he spoke softly before presenting her with a cherry wood box, simply built, with velvet inside of it. Tucked onto the velvet was a black choker with a onyx cross hanging from it. She smiled at the gift, and again smiled as she turned, pulling her hair up so he could pin it at her throte.
She pulled her satin gloves up her arms, adjusting them well past her elbows, and spun once more to readjust, making sure that all was perfect. The feeling was a bit odd, a bit heavy. She didn't doubt his sincerity, or his lovely voice as he gave her the gift, his accent a balm upon her soul as they talked quietly on their way to the event.
She sat beside him at the Invictus meeting, remaining calm and quiet for the meeting. Even the outburst at the back failed to rise her ire. A soft smile twisted her lips as she remained through the senate portion. Gentle conversations floated across the air. It all began to tumble sweetly down after the start of the evening. The crush of undead bodies around her caused her less fear than normal. There was a subtle strength within her, a knowledge and faith that they would all come through this all alive.
A tender sense of hope.
Plagued with self doubt for so long, the feeling of hope budding was like the daytime to her night, the acid to her base, the complete opposite of all she knew, all she felt, and all she lived. She felt it there, inside of herself. And knew it was wrong.
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So as you all know probably by now, I've hopped on the ling bandwagon. As such, Ive started an IC lj for my character concept. It is REMYCARSON from now on anything I've got about ling will be posted to that lj. I'm going to try to avoid spamming caster with anything else non caster related. so, if you are interested in reading some creative meanderings.. feel free to hop on over there. at this point its not friends locked either, so enjoy. (but also feel free to friend me!)
Ok.
So, as an up to date edit of this. As Ling draws near, I am from here on out friends-locking my entries. I've decided, that if I get enough comments, I will cross post my ling entries to this LJ under a Changeling filter. If you wish to be added to that filter, instead of going through the trouble of friending RemyCarson, I will do so, because I'm just that nice. Therefore, if you wish to be put on the changeling filter, let me know either via comment, or in conversation, and I will do so.
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WHEN the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride, He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside. But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail. For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
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