Post by Pandora LeAmour on Aug 3, 2009 20:47:27 GMT -5
Tathar Seregon
High Priestess
Pandora LeAmour
Location: The Tower
Time: Sunset
Her footfalls were completely silent. Infact, she had no need to walk at all, but did so because she wanted to be seen. She didn't knock upon the door of the Tower, but William opened it without delay. The beauty of gifts beyond speech.
She greeted no one, instead walked directly through the door and into Williams room, and onward. One moment she was standing on the ground floor at the Drop, the next she wasn't.
One minute Pandora was alone in the quarters she chose to share with the Lycan. The next she wasn't.
She approached her. Stood there but a moment, her eye's cloudy. And then, she turned and left the sleeping weaked Master Vampire where she lay, and was gone again.
She reappeared inside the Holding Cells, and looked about. Seeing there were a few already there, though not properly positioned yet, the High Priestess folded her arms over her chest and cleared her throat.
"To your cages. Now."
Clearly she was accustomed to getting what she wanted. Her voice rang not loud, but with the tone of authority.
It had been a long night the eve before, and one Pandora herself couldn't quite remember. Oh, she was perfectly aware of the events leading up to it, but from the moment Mathas had taken his last breath, she was gone.
Her body no longer acted nor responded like that of a Master Vampire. Instead, she was painfully looking like a mortal. Raked with nightmares that she couldn't wake up from, a constant hunger she couldn't quench, and her icy cool body was no longer a beautifully reflecting pale white, but rather an ashen grey.
Lying there in her's and Tathar's quarters, upon her cot, Pandora was unaware of the ongoings in the Tower, or even in Tranquility at this moment. Nothing mattered. She simply wasn't there. Instead, she was locked in a nightmare that just wouldn't end. Fighting, as oddly as it sounds, for her life.
How a vampire fights for their life when they clearly are not alive, is lost on me. But there she was. Her human servant had been killed, and Pandora could have very well gone with him. If she was lucky, her wounds would heal before she bled out.
And seeing as she lie there, completely still, looking like death, which wasn't too far off the marker, she couldn't very well just go and hunt for the meal that she could really use right about now.
He watched as Symphony left, waiting until she was well out of the Tower before rising...he felt the itch...that all too familiar burning sensation within him that let him know that it was very nearly time, and he made his way quickly, paying no mind for niceties to anyone he passed as he stormed through, be they guards, other lycans making the very same trek, or even the regal seeming woman he passed as he entered the holding cell area...He offered no greetings, no nods of acknowledgement...nothing...And as soon as he entered a vacant cage he began to disrobe...tossing his effects out through the bars into one little pile. The urge to shift this time was strong...though he did not know why. Perhaps the events last eve made the pull to become a beast in form as well as mind were to blame...in any case, as soon as he was bare, and all of his personal dressings were removed, he surrendered himself to it...that welcoming burn as his flesh seemed to writhe and tear, replacing itself with rough and dark fur, bones contorting and crunching as they reshaped themselves, his form taking that of the primal beast that he truly was...
Her attention didn't seen to be on anyone in particular, as those within the Holding Cells began to take their proper place. She'd never been in Tranquility during one of the Moon Phases, but they were all alike, were they not?
Oh, she knew them all. Every single one of them. Afterall, it was her duty to know. And when the Smithy began disrobing, she boldly watched. No shame. No blame. The clothes were tossed to the floor and he shifted before half of his family had time to disgard their own clothing.
Still, she stood in the center of the room, able to be viewed and view every single cage that lined the two walls. And when the last of those gathered thus far were clothed just as they were the day they came into this world, she gave a sweep with her left hand, watching an unfelt wind blow each and every single peice of their garments against the far wall, where one of the many Tower guards stooped to retrieve them.
She did not make for the door. She had no need. She was a member of the NightWorld council. Nothing could touch her. The beauty of being on the Council.
Even as he shifted he retained a degree of control...The weight of age did not always come with naught but burden...No, in cases it brought experience with things, and this was one of them. There was no immediate stimuli to set him off, therefore he had control over his actions...at least for the time being, and as such he stayed away from the door of his cage...Though to keep truce with his beastial mind he paced...slowly back and forth, scenting the air often and huffing every now and then as the groans and sounds of others beginning their own changes were filling the air...And the feeling of hunger was beginning to grow within his gut...then and only then did he venture forward to peer out of the bars...watching for movement...looking for prey.
The doors to the Holding room were thumped closed, and the lock slid into place. Without the need to move, the High Priestess was able to slide the inner lock into place behind her back.
How tiresome. She was above this, but until the Master of the City recovered, she was stuck here babysitting.
Once more, her footfalls were silent as she crossed the room slowly. She wanted to get a look at Pandora's stock. Not the feed, but rather the stock of Lycans residing within her city.
As she passed each cage, the High Priestess peered into it, appearing bored. It was always the same old thing. The beast within would pause, look at her, and either shrink back or simply freeze in their place, and then lose interest.
One cage after the other, she walked. Her arms didn't move at her sides, hands hidden in the many layers of fabric that composed her robe. They were hungry. They were expecting their meals and they were expecting them now. She took her time.
What was this...? An unfamiliar scent filled his nostrils...one that he was very unaccustomed to, and very soon the sight of the source of that scent came into view within his limited visual spectrum...He saw no colors of her...only her shape...and the fact that he did not know her made his hackles raise, a low rumble of a growl filling his throat after rising up from his gut...He was hungry...and she was simpley going to walk past...inspecting them all as if they were naught but some little dawdle upon the shelf of some merchant...and since she was unfamiliar the thought of using her to quench his hunger for flesh...and as such he pressed himself against the bars, keeping well away from the cursed silver chain that bound him within...and he snapped at her...jaws slamming shut even as he tried to work his snout through the bars and toward her passing form. He knew that he could not reach her...but there was still nothing to waste in trying, was there? Perhaps it would even work a little respect into her for what she was standing in the midst of.
She paused infront of the Smithy's cage, perfectly aware of who he was. What he was. Her face, the masked portrait of Pandora's when she appeared expressionless. Well, at least he had balls. Pandora chose well.
Standing there infront of his cage, the woman cleared her throat once more, and then she spoke, silently so. Pandora was learning how to do so, but Pandora was just a Master Vampire. Small, frail. Pathetic.
"Does it not bother you? You here, locked in cage, while I am free to roam. While your beloved is in slumber. Completely exposed to my every whim. Does it not make you feel powerless. Unable to defend her."
Her eye's smirked, but her lips remained unmoving, lax. The other inmates were clearly growing restless. They would often have been released by now. The High Priestess didn't care. They could sit in their cages all evening, if that's what she wanted of them. Power. It was such a beautiful thing.
He growled once more...She had quite the little mouth on her...so to speak, in any case...She was arrogant...drunk with power....Oh how he hoped that is not how he had seemed when he sat at the position of being Master of the City...Surely he had not let it go to his head that much? But his thoughts were pushed aside rather roughly as she mentioned Pandora being at her whim...defenseless...and he knew it was true....He hated the fact...but he knew it to be truth...And in retaliation he launched himself at the front portion of the cage, directly toward her form just outside of it...fresh meat, so very close...he could almost taste it...Even as he clawed and bit at the bars, the taste of metal filling his mouth, all the while keeping himself from touching that blasted silver...Even enraged, instinct gave him that much ability to think.
The sound of a woman's laughter fritted through the Lycans mind, those her expression did not change. So easy. They were, even if they wanted to deny it, so much like a pup. So easy to bait.
With her eye's flashing in mellow laughter, the High Priestess stepped back away from the bars, turning her eye's from the Smithy. He was the last cage to visit. Her slow deliberate steps, merely for show, carried her across the room once more, not away from the line of sight in the Smithy's cage. Simply, further from it.
Then, with a skill that came from centuries of practice, the High Priestess tossed up her sheild. A soft blue light surrounded her. Impenetratable. Just as quickly as the blue light appeared, it disappeared. The light wasn't the sheild. It simply appeared for a brief moment whenever she called upon it.
As if hiding behind a silver laced invisible room, she was safe. It was how the NightWorld Council had survived so long. They were immune to not all, but most things, including hand to hand conflects.
Then, ever so casually, the High Priestess glanced across the distance and into the cage that held the Smithy. This time, her smile did appear on her expression, the words drifting silently through the room to his mind.
"Enjoy your meal, Lycan. I know I will."
And a quick raise of her hand sent the silver chain in motion. The guards outside undoubtedly got a swift sense of the chills as their wheel started turning without their aid. Babysitting. All you needed was a few games, tons of munchies, and a few nice secrets of the trade to make it work.
He snapped at her once more, her laughter serving no more purpose than to grate on his nerves much like a grindstone to a roughly hewn blade...But apparently she was there for a reason...and as such he would ignore her for the time being...As the chain began to slip free he dropped back onto all fours, and since his cage was one of the two on the end nearest the door to the Keep he was out and free to bound within...and oh how he tore after the first scrap of running meat he saw.
Having freed the lowerbeings, nay animals, the High Priestess simply blinked, and she was gone, sheild and all. Reappearing within the upper level of the Tower, also better known as the Master Chambers, she looked down over the restless form of the Master Vampire. Master of the City, well she certainly didn't look like much.
She knew everything there was to know about Pandora LeAmour, both girl and vampire. Not because the woman found her particularly interesting, but because it was her job to know.
Holding both hands overtop Pandora, the High Priestess set to work.
A High Priestess on the NightWorld Council is valuable because so much of her power and ability is veiled in mystery. Not even the NightWorld Council members fully understand her. She is the base of potential that is the source of the power wielded by the Council. She is the ultimate potential that allows them to transform and create whatever their Will desires. She is not good, nor evil, but the balance between the two. Without this balance, there can be no power.
Think, if you will, a moderator. Buried within her lies the pwoer of the unconscious, which no one can start to understand but which, through her, you can learn to control. She's not powerful like the rest of the Council, but she can hold her own. A lower member of the Council, the High Priestess. She is but the gateway to knowledge, almost as if a Queens Advisor.
While it is impossible for anyone to learn all of her mysteries and secrets, the High Priestss remains as a guide to those willing to venture deep within their minds to discover the true powers hidden deep inside everyone. She represents the mysteries of the unconscious and the Inner Voice. Basically, she can read people. She can know who or what you are, long before you do. She can see what you are capable of, and what you can be capable of.
And right now, standing there over Pandora LeAmour, she works. Fights to reach the mind inside the camotose Vampire. Quite frankly, the High Priestess could care less if Pandora made it or not. She wasn't here to ensure her life, or to will it away. She was sent, to feel things out. To observe. To babysit.
His form crashed into the beast, and it yelped, a grunting sound escaping it's jaws as he tore into it's throat...Such mundane creatures were far too easy to kill...Too easy to hunt down, even in a forest rather than the Keep itself...but they were food nonetheless, and he took upon this one, this kill, just as famishedly as he always did...And he gorged...he glutted...he stuffed himself with flesh and blood and bone and fur...and he spared no digestible piece...He would eat it all...all except for the hooves. They held no real nutritional value anyway...As he felt the lifeblood of the beast splash onto his face he dragged it over toward the wall, shielding it from the others within with his large form. And he ate...the sickening sound of squelching and crunching filling the air, as well as other deathcries as others were brought down and torn into...On this night every month, the Keep was a slaughterhouse...smelling of primal instincts and blood...and it was all he could ever want...for the moment.
Seeing no change, the High Priestess moved again, this time landing herself back in the Holding room. It was now empty of everything but a single doe who sought the room for a place to hide.
Her silent footfalls carried her across the nearly deserted room and towards the Keep, where she could clearly hear the Lycans enjoying their freedom. Thankfully, the Moon Phase only happened once a month, else she'd not survive here.
Then again, she wasn't here indefinately... Yet. It would all depend on whether or not Pandora LeAmour recovered from the death of her human servant. If she did, the High Priestess would return from whence she came. If she did not, however, the Hidden Realm of Tranquility would then become her home. And every one of these beasts feasting as if there were no tomorrow would become her subjects.
Standing there, protected by her sheild, the High Priestess watched them. Judging. Evaluating. Planning.
Of course, as soon as he finished with his meal he turned and sat there on his haunches, glancing idly about...He was full...he was docile...but he was still a far cry from tame, alongside his bretheren, and while they took to socializing, he merely sat there, watching the proceedings with little interest...at least until she chose to enter, in which case his gaze turned fully to her...Was she insane? Did she have a deathwish? Or was there something that she knew that they did not? He did not know...but he would merely watch and wait...wait to see if anything happened should one of the others decide to try and test her...He was by no means an idiot, after all.
Of course, her appearance caught the attention of a few of the newer made Lycans. The ones whom were unable to retain any method of thinking. No matter how many times she had done so before, it was always the same. Those few beasts that thought she would make a better meal. And no matter how many times one of them would come running at her, only to hit an imaginary wall, so to speak, there would always be another that thought they could do it better.
Nowadays, she didn't even bother watching them come running at her only to get shocked and back away. It had grown boring centuries ago. Of course, she would glance at them for a brief moment. Committing them to memory. Should she become Master of the City, they would be the first to go.
In between the attack attempts, the High Priestess watched around the room of the Keep. They were ruthless. They were disgusting. They were delightful.
Her eye's then fell upon the Smithy, and a smirk came to her face. Deliberately, she raised her right land up to her face and popped her index finger in her mouth, as if licking off a delicious meal. Her eyes did not stray from him until she removed her finger once more. Even then, she watched him, the smirk ever present. Until another Lycan attempted to make a meal of her.
Then she had to look away, to get a look at the failed attempted murderer. Memorize them. If Pandora LeAmour didn't make it, they would regret that little move.
At her action, in between attempts to turn her into the heap of bleeding pulp that he oh so very much wanted to see her as, he huffed...Why did so very many want to bait him...? It had been done countless times since he had arrived here within the lands, so often that he had truthfully lost count, and so he gave her no further satisfaction...Instead he raised his head, lifting his chin up a bit and looked down it at her...In the animal kingdom, this was a blatant show of superiority...and meant that he acknowledged her...as a lesser being...and indeed, without that shield...that invisible force that drove back the attacks against her, she was...They were physically superior...they were designed to kill...to hunt...they were apex predators, albeit driven by instinct...No...Only Alpha's maintained complete control of themselves...and there were no alpha's here...They were all, every single one of them, merely followers with no true leader...but given the circumstances that was just fine.
And once again, without seeming to even notice his claimful act, the High Priestess disappeared. Just to wound him, she was tempted to see that Pandora made no recovery at all. Then let him see how superior he thought he was.
As it stood, she would not help one way or the other. Pandora was suffering because of her actions. Because of Tathar's actions. Mathas actions. Because the NightWorld Council knew it would come to this. Everything that had happened had worked out exactly as the High Priestess said it would.
Now, the only thing left to do, was wait it out and see just how strong Pandora LeAmour was.
Of course, the High Priestess wasn't taking any chances. She made herself comfortable in the seat at the head of the table, marked only for the Master of the City, and began sorting through Pandora's personal parchments. There really wasn't anything for her to do until after the Moon Phase, or after Pandora woke up. Depending on which came first, of course.
High Priestess
Pandora LeAmour
Location: The Tower
Time: Sunset
Her footfalls were completely silent. Infact, she had no need to walk at all, but did so because she wanted to be seen. She didn't knock upon the door of the Tower, but William opened it without delay. The beauty of gifts beyond speech.
She greeted no one, instead walked directly through the door and into Williams room, and onward. One moment she was standing on the ground floor at the Drop, the next she wasn't.
One minute Pandora was alone in the quarters she chose to share with the Lycan. The next she wasn't.
She approached her. Stood there but a moment, her eye's cloudy. And then, she turned and left the sleeping weaked Master Vampire where she lay, and was gone again.
She reappeared inside the Holding Cells, and looked about. Seeing there were a few already there, though not properly positioned yet, the High Priestess folded her arms over her chest and cleared her throat.
"To your cages. Now."
Clearly she was accustomed to getting what she wanted. Her voice rang not loud, but with the tone of authority.
It had been a long night the eve before, and one Pandora herself couldn't quite remember. Oh, she was perfectly aware of the events leading up to it, but from the moment Mathas had taken his last breath, she was gone.
Her body no longer acted nor responded like that of a Master Vampire. Instead, she was painfully looking like a mortal. Raked with nightmares that she couldn't wake up from, a constant hunger she couldn't quench, and her icy cool body was no longer a beautifully reflecting pale white, but rather an ashen grey.
Lying there in her's and Tathar's quarters, upon her cot, Pandora was unaware of the ongoings in the Tower, or even in Tranquility at this moment. Nothing mattered. She simply wasn't there. Instead, she was locked in a nightmare that just wouldn't end. Fighting, as oddly as it sounds, for her life.
How a vampire fights for their life when they clearly are not alive, is lost on me. But there she was. Her human servant had been killed, and Pandora could have very well gone with him. If she was lucky, her wounds would heal before she bled out.
And seeing as she lie there, completely still, looking like death, which wasn't too far off the marker, she couldn't very well just go and hunt for the meal that she could really use right about now.
He watched as Symphony left, waiting until she was well out of the Tower before rising...he felt the itch...that all too familiar burning sensation within him that let him know that it was very nearly time, and he made his way quickly, paying no mind for niceties to anyone he passed as he stormed through, be they guards, other lycans making the very same trek, or even the regal seeming woman he passed as he entered the holding cell area...He offered no greetings, no nods of acknowledgement...nothing...And as soon as he entered a vacant cage he began to disrobe...tossing his effects out through the bars into one little pile. The urge to shift this time was strong...though he did not know why. Perhaps the events last eve made the pull to become a beast in form as well as mind were to blame...in any case, as soon as he was bare, and all of his personal dressings were removed, he surrendered himself to it...that welcoming burn as his flesh seemed to writhe and tear, replacing itself with rough and dark fur, bones contorting and crunching as they reshaped themselves, his form taking that of the primal beast that he truly was...
Her attention didn't seen to be on anyone in particular, as those within the Holding Cells began to take their proper place. She'd never been in Tranquility during one of the Moon Phases, but they were all alike, were they not?
Oh, she knew them all. Every single one of them. Afterall, it was her duty to know. And when the Smithy began disrobing, she boldly watched. No shame. No blame. The clothes were tossed to the floor and he shifted before half of his family had time to disgard their own clothing.
Still, she stood in the center of the room, able to be viewed and view every single cage that lined the two walls. And when the last of those gathered thus far were clothed just as they were the day they came into this world, she gave a sweep with her left hand, watching an unfelt wind blow each and every single peice of their garments against the far wall, where one of the many Tower guards stooped to retrieve them.
She did not make for the door. She had no need. She was a member of the NightWorld council. Nothing could touch her. The beauty of being on the Council.
Even as he shifted he retained a degree of control...The weight of age did not always come with naught but burden...No, in cases it brought experience with things, and this was one of them. There was no immediate stimuli to set him off, therefore he had control over his actions...at least for the time being, and as such he stayed away from the door of his cage...Though to keep truce with his beastial mind he paced...slowly back and forth, scenting the air often and huffing every now and then as the groans and sounds of others beginning their own changes were filling the air...And the feeling of hunger was beginning to grow within his gut...then and only then did he venture forward to peer out of the bars...watching for movement...looking for prey.
The doors to the Holding room were thumped closed, and the lock slid into place. Without the need to move, the High Priestess was able to slide the inner lock into place behind her back.
How tiresome. She was above this, but until the Master of the City recovered, she was stuck here babysitting.
Once more, her footfalls were silent as she crossed the room slowly. She wanted to get a look at Pandora's stock. Not the feed, but rather the stock of Lycans residing within her city.
As she passed each cage, the High Priestess peered into it, appearing bored. It was always the same old thing. The beast within would pause, look at her, and either shrink back or simply freeze in their place, and then lose interest.
One cage after the other, she walked. Her arms didn't move at her sides, hands hidden in the many layers of fabric that composed her robe. They were hungry. They were expecting their meals and they were expecting them now. She took her time.
What was this...? An unfamiliar scent filled his nostrils...one that he was very unaccustomed to, and very soon the sight of the source of that scent came into view within his limited visual spectrum...He saw no colors of her...only her shape...and the fact that he did not know her made his hackles raise, a low rumble of a growl filling his throat after rising up from his gut...He was hungry...and she was simpley going to walk past...inspecting them all as if they were naught but some little dawdle upon the shelf of some merchant...and since she was unfamiliar the thought of using her to quench his hunger for flesh...and as such he pressed himself against the bars, keeping well away from the cursed silver chain that bound him within...and he snapped at her...jaws slamming shut even as he tried to work his snout through the bars and toward her passing form. He knew that he could not reach her...but there was still nothing to waste in trying, was there? Perhaps it would even work a little respect into her for what she was standing in the midst of.
She paused infront of the Smithy's cage, perfectly aware of who he was. What he was. Her face, the masked portrait of Pandora's when she appeared expressionless. Well, at least he had balls. Pandora chose well.
Standing there infront of his cage, the woman cleared her throat once more, and then she spoke, silently so. Pandora was learning how to do so, but Pandora was just a Master Vampire. Small, frail. Pathetic.
"Does it not bother you? You here, locked in cage, while I am free to roam. While your beloved is in slumber. Completely exposed to my every whim. Does it not make you feel powerless. Unable to defend her."
Her eye's smirked, but her lips remained unmoving, lax. The other inmates were clearly growing restless. They would often have been released by now. The High Priestess didn't care. They could sit in their cages all evening, if that's what she wanted of them. Power. It was such a beautiful thing.
He growled once more...She had quite the little mouth on her...so to speak, in any case...She was arrogant...drunk with power....Oh how he hoped that is not how he had seemed when he sat at the position of being Master of the City...Surely he had not let it go to his head that much? But his thoughts were pushed aside rather roughly as she mentioned Pandora being at her whim...defenseless...and he knew it was true....He hated the fact...but he knew it to be truth...And in retaliation he launched himself at the front portion of the cage, directly toward her form just outside of it...fresh meat, so very close...he could almost taste it...Even as he clawed and bit at the bars, the taste of metal filling his mouth, all the while keeping himself from touching that blasted silver...Even enraged, instinct gave him that much ability to think.
The sound of a woman's laughter fritted through the Lycans mind, those her expression did not change. So easy. They were, even if they wanted to deny it, so much like a pup. So easy to bait.
With her eye's flashing in mellow laughter, the High Priestess stepped back away from the bars, turning her eye's from the Smithy. He was the last cage to visit. Her slow deliberate steps, merely for show, carried her across the room once more, not away from the line of sight in the Smithy's cage. Simply, further from it.
Then, with a skill that came from centuries of practice, the High Priestess tossed up her sheild. A soft blue light surrounded her. Impenetratable. Just as quickly as the blue light appeared, it disappeared. The light wasn't the sheild. It simply appeared for a brief moment whenever she called upon it.
As if hiding behind a silver laced invisible room, she was safe. It was how the NightWorld Council had survived so long. They were immune to not all, but most things, including hand to hand conflects.
Then, ever so casually, the High Priestess glanced across the distance and into the cage that held the Smithy. This time, her smile did appear on her expression, the words drifting silently through the room to his mind.
"Enjoy your meal, Lycan. I know I will."
And a quick raise of her hand sent the silver chain in motion. The guards outside undoubtedly got a swift sense of the chills as their wheel started turning without their aid. Babysitting. All you needed was a few games, tons of munchies, and a few nice secrets of the trade to make it work.
He snapped at her once more, her laughter serving no more purpose than to grate on his nerves much like a grindstone to a roughly hewn blade...But apparently she was there for a reason...and as such he would ignore her for the time being...As the chain began to slip free he dropped back onto all fours, and since his cage was one of the two on the end nearest the door to the Keep he was out and free to bound within...and oh how he tore after the first scrap of running meat he saw.
Having freed the lowerbeings, nay animals, the High Priestess simply blinked, and she was gone, sheild and all. Reappearing within the upper level of the Tower, also better known as the Master Chambers, she looked down over the restless form of the Master Vampire. Master of the City, well she certainly didn't look like much.
She knew everything there was to know about Pandora LeAmour, both girl and vampire. Not because the woman found her particularly interesting, but because it was her job to know.
Holding both hands overtop Pandora, the High Priestess set to work.
A High Priestess on the NightWorld Council is valuable because so much of her power and ability is veiled in mystery. Not even the NightWorld Council members fully understand her. She is the base of potential that is the source of the power wielded by the Council. She is the ultimate potential that allows them to transform and create whatever their Will desires. She is not good, nor evil, but the balance between the two. Without this balance, there can be no power.
Think, if you will, a moderator. Buried within her lies the pwoer of the unconscious, which no one can start to understand but which, through her, you can learn to control. She's not powerful like the rest of the Council, but she can hold her own. A lower member of the Council, the High Priestess. She is but the gateway to knowledge, almost as if a Queens Advisor.
While it is impossible for anyone to learn all of her mysteries and secrets, the High Priestss remains as a guide to those willing to venture deep within their minds to discover the true powers hidden deep inside everyone. She represents the mysteries of the unconscious and the Inner Voice. Basically, she can read people. She can know who or what you are, long before you do. She can see what you are capable of, and what you can be capable of.
And right now, standing there over Pandora LeAmour, she works. Fights to reach the mind inside the camotose Vampire. Quite frankly, the High Priestess could care less if Pandora made it or not. She wasn't here to ensure her life, or to will it away. She was sent, to feel things out. To observe. To babysit.
His form crashed into the beast, and it yelped, a grunting sound escaping it's jaws as he tore into it's throat...Such mundane creatures were far too easy to kill...Too easy to hunt down, even in a forest rather than the Keep itself...but they were food nonetheless, and he took upon this one, this kill, just as famishedly as he always did...And he gorged...he glutted...he stuffed himself with flesh and blood and bone and fur...and he spared no digestible piece...He would eat it all...all except for the hooves. They held no real nutritional value anyway...As he felt the lifeblood of the beast splash onto his face he dragged it over toward the wall, shielding it from the others within with his large form. And he ate...the sickening sound of squelching and crunching filling the air, as well as other deathcries as others were brought down and torn into...On this night every month, the Keep was a slaughterhouse...smelling of primal instincts and blood...and it was all he could ever want...for the moment.
Seeing no change, the High Priestess moved again, this time landing herself back in the Holding room. It was now empty of everything but a single doe who sought the room for a place to hide.
Her silent footfalls carried her across the nearly deserted room and towards the Keep, where she could clearly hear the Lycans enjoying their freedom. Thankfully, the Moon Phase only happened once a month, else she'd not survive here.
Then again, she wasn't here indefinately... Yet. It would all depend on whether or not Pandora LeAmour recovered from the death of her human servant. If she did, the High Priestess would return from whence she came. If she did not, however, the Hidden Realm of Tranquility would then become her home. And every one of these beasts feasting as if there were no tomorrow would become her subjects.
Standing there, protected by her sheild, the High Priestess watched them. Judging. Evaluating. Planning.
Of course, as soon as he finished with his meal he turned and sat there on his haunches, glancing idly about...He was full...he was docile...but he was still a far cry from tame, alongside his bretheren, and while they took to socializing, he merely sat there, watching the proceedings with little interest...at least until she chose to enter, in which case his gaze turned fully to her...Was she insane? Did she have a deathwish? Or was there something that she knew that they did not? He did not know...but he would merely watch and wait...wait to see if anything happened should one of the others decide to try and test her...He was by no means an idiot, after all.
Of course, her appearance caught the attention of a few of the newer made Lycans. The ones whom were unable to retain any method of thinking. No matter how many times she had done so before, it was always the same. Those few beasts that thought she would make a better meal. And no matter how many times one of them would come running at her, only to hit an imaginary wall, so to speak, there would always be another that thought they could do it better.
Nowadays, she didn't even bother watching them come running at her only to get shocked and back away. It had grown boring centuries ago. Of course, she would glance at them for a brief moment. Committing them to memory. Should she become Master of the City, they would be the first to go.
In between the attack attempts, the High Priestess watched around the room of the Keep. They were ruthless. They were disgusting. They were delightful.
Her eye's then fell upon the Smithy, and a smirk came to her face. Deliberately, she raised her right land up to her face and popped her index finger in her mouth, as if licking off a delicious meal. Her eyes did not stray from him until she removed her finger once more. Even then, she watched him, the smirk ever present. Until another Lycan attempted to make a meal of her.
Then she had to look away, to get a look at the failed attempted murderer. Memorize them. If Pandora LeAmour didn't make it, they would regret that little move.
At her action, in between attempts to turn her into the heap of bleeding pulp that he oh so very much wanted to see her as, he huffed...Why did so very many want to bait him...? It had been done countless times since he had arrived here within the lands, so often that he had truthfully lost count, and so he gave her no further satisfaction...Instead he raised his head, lifting his chin up a bit and looked down it at her...In the animal kingdom, this was a blatant show of superiority...and meant that he acknowledged her...as a lesser being...and indeed, without that shield...that invisible force that drove back the attacks against her, she was...They were physically superior...they were designed to kill...to hunt...they were apex predators, albeit driven by instinct...No...Only Alpha's maintained complete control of themselves...and there were no alpha's here...They were all, every single one of them, merely followers with no true leader...but given the circumstances that was just fine.
And once again, without seeming to even notice his claimful act, the High Priestess disappeared. Just to wound him, she was tempted to see that Pandora made no recovery at all. Then let him see how superior he thought he was.
As it stood, she would not help one way or the other. Pandora was suffering because of her actions. Because of Tathar's actions. Mathas actions. Because the NightWorld Council knew it would come to this. Everything that had happened had worked out exactly as the High Priestess said it would.
Now, the only thing left to do, was wait it out and see just how strong Pandora LeAmour was.
Of course, the High Priestess wasn't taking any chances. She made herself comfortable in the seat at the head of the table, marked only for the Master of the City, and began sorting through Pandora's personal parchments. There really wasn't anything for her to do until after the Moon Phase, or after Pandora woke up. Depending on which came first, of course.
