Eleni's Journal [entries|friends|calendar] Eleni   [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

May 22nd, 2009 12:25 pm Ageless [ ] [ mood | contemplative ] What is another year to those of us who glide through the darkness for centuries? The day of my birth seems as meaningless as my mortal life. Yet I remember it year after year, I remember happy times as a young girl playing in fields of flowers, long before love and passion took me down this dark road that I walk upon.   I often wonder what instigates this nostalgia. Is it that one day a year or is it a culmination of memories that whisper at me from time to time? Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

February 1st, 2009 11:00 am Once I had a Mortal Heart - Continued [ ] [ mood | satisfied ] High clouds blocked the sun as a cool breeze blew across the dock. It caught my thick curls, sending dark tresses into my eyes. I should have tied it back and worn a bonnet, but I had been hurried that day. I wore a dress of sky blue complete with silken ribbons and embroidery. It was hardly something I should have worn and I was chastised for my stupidity. It was for him, of course. Even my long hair was brushed with care, cleaned and scented.   It was all to capture his attention, but then, I had already had it. I do believe my father knew what I was up to, even then. It was by pure chance that Armanno and I had an opportunity to speak at all that day, as he had been kept separate from me and very busy. However, father was briefly called away as the early morning drew on and for approximately five minutes of extreme bliss, we spoke.   His hair was long with thick curls, he’d tied it back with care; his teeth were white and even. When he smiled, amber glazed eyes lit from within and I caught my breath every time. We stood not five feet apart at entrance to the warehouse close to the dock. Crates were stacked with care by hand, ready for transporting onto the waiting ship. Uneven wood boards creaked beneath my feet as I set the delicate cargo of red French wine into the straw-filled crate.   I continued to count, all the while knowing the distance between us grew less. I could hear the water below lap against the barnacle covered dockside; gulls cried and circled over head in hopes of a free meal from the many fishing boats that were heading out to find the days catch.   I became so lost in the smell of the sea and the sounds of close by conversations about the weather, local gossip and talk of politics, that I had not noticed he stood close enough to touch me. A warm callused and beautiful hand reached into the crate and pulled out the bottle of wine that I had just placed there with care.   “I am familiar with wine making,” he smiled down at me. “I used to pick grapes in Treviso.”   He gently placed the bottle back where it had been as I stared at him with large eyes, completely mute.   TBC... Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

January 21st, 2009 5:33 pm Once I had a Mortal Heart [ ] [ mood | accomplished ]   His name was Armanno and he worked for my father, Corradeo di Conti. Father worked for a wealthy French merchant in trading, which exported goods abroad. The French controlled most trading in Naples during those times. We were not wealthy, but we got by. At times throughout the seasons, a man or two would work under my father’s supervision to help. It was during one of these times, a busy season, when I first met him.   I would often come to the docks where goods were being loaded to help with small things such as counting inventory. I had a sense for business, even then. It was not where my father wanted me to be, I had to beg to be allowed to do this. It wasn’t a place for a young woman. I was barely fifteen and in the prime of my beauty. The man in question was twenty-five. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I remember when our eyes first met.   Know that I did not speak with him for many weeks; we did not need to. We spoke with our eyes and his eyes told me many things. When we did speak, it was in hushed and hurried words, as it wasn’t allowed. This man was married, with children of his own. It was forbidden for me to do anything but help in small ways.   The day was warm and bright, moist with humidity; the air, seasoned with the salt of the sea. I could taste it on my lips and feel the sting of it in my eyes as crate after crate was moved with care onto a waiting boat.   He moved with soundless, fluid grace to stand next to me while I made sure each crate contained the exact number of items that they should. A warm, strong hand covered mine and I jumped back in shock. We were temporarily alone when he spoke to me for the very first time.   “You have the eyes and face of an angel,” he smiled down at me.   My eyes grew wide with the tranquility of the moment; my seemingly angelic face flared hot and red with embarrassment. I moved to speak, to try to whisper my name to him, as it was somehow important that he know this. I was certain my father would never mention who I was, or speak of me.   “Eleni,” he smiled. “I know that your name is, Eleni.”   It would be two weeks before he spoke to me again and this time, I managed a reply. TBC         Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

October 29th, 2008 2:52 pm [ ] [ mood | enthralled ] I never thought to experience something quite like that. I am enraptured. Merci, Monsieur de Lioncourt. 1 Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

September 7th, 2008 3:49 pm Captive Continued [ ] [ mood | awake ] Thick, heavy chains held him, yet he was able to move somewhat freely around. My arms wrapped around him in love, but he threw me off in anger. I stumbled back and nearly knocked over the candle that I had left on the earth floor. Gracefully I righted myself and stared him down. “So this is how it will be?” Eyes, beautifully darkened, looked right through me and seemed to burn with a fire that I’d never seen before, molten, yet filled with a mixture of hate and sorrow. I moved, he moved. We danced a strange tango; the air in-between pulling us together and pushing us apart. Rhythmic and slow, we stepped around the tiny room like choreographed enemies. This is not what we were, and I stopped. Waited. Waited for him to project his fury, as I knew he would. It seemed to take forever and when he released his pent up rage, it was like a demon howling. Nothing made sense that came spilling from his lips but a vivid image broke free and pierced my mind like a knife. Lestat. Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

September 1st, 2008 7:46 pm Captive [ ] [ mood | hopeful ] Midnight approached and I was never so aware of the time rushing past me as I hurried to find where Lestat had him imprisoned. I knew of the place. I knew what it looked like as Lestat had it in his mind when he explained to me what he’d done. His manner was business-like, but not unkind. It was told to me as facts. He did this, and then did that; this is how it is; now you must care for him. His expression softened and soundlessly, wordlessly he thanked me. He reached out with those enigmatic grey eyes as an inner light shone from them; the coldness now gone as quickly as the name Nicolas, left his lips. “Go,” he whispered. That single word was enough to send me out into the night to find him. I hired a car to drive out to the castle in Auvergne where Lestat was born and raised so very long ago. He’d told me of the castle layout and where I could find the one that I still loved. For ten days I tended Louis and for ten days I worried for Nicolas’ life. That it had been spared, I was beyond relieved, but his confinement left me no room to doubt this would not be tolerated, ever again. A heavy stone slab covered the hidden hole into the darkness where he was kept. I was in the cellar already and the cold and damp crept into my soul from the narrow stone steps that led deep down into the earth. I crept silently down into the darkness, stealing along like a thief. A door of thick wood locked from the outside barred my way. I lifted the key and heard him stirring from within. Curses were yelled out, threats and colourful language pierced me from beyond this great door. They were not aimed at me. I’d brought several enormous candles to light and now I pulled one from my shoulder bag. It was pitch black but our eyes can see with the bare minimum. Nicolas, however, would be completely blind in his tiny room. I opened the door with candle in hand during mid rant. At the sight of me, he stopped completely and simply stared, trying to adjust to the tiny flame, which threw a warm glow across the dirt floor. “Eleni? Is that you?” he asked with uncommon tentativeness. “Nicolas,” is all I said before moving swiftly to where he was held by massive chains and taking him into my arms. Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

August 24th, 2008 8:18 pm Recovery [ ] [ mood | accomplished ] I had not used this lair in years and it was not one that Nicolas knew about. We had many throughout this City of Lights and never found a reason to share every single place with each other. Mostly we slept in our own bed, safely locked away from the suns rays by thick blinds and velvet curtains. My days of unconscious bliss in my lover’s arms had come to an abrupt end.   I awoke mere seconds after the sun had set with Louis still wrapped in my arms. He showed no signs of consciousness and I knew he desperately needed blood. Gently I cut open my wrist and let scarlet drops fall onto his dried and parted lips until his eyelids fluttered and partially opened.   “Louis,” I cooed in French. “I am Eleni and you are quite safe. Please drink, you need to heal and Lestat will be here tomorrow night.”   He made no sound but did as I asked him and I felt the familiar pressure as he pulled the blood from my open vein with what little strength he had. I did not know if he understood me or knew where he was. He made no indication that he did, but only closed his eyes and drank as much as he could before drifting off into a resemblance of a peaceful sleep.         2 Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

August 16th, 2008 7:02 pm Resolution [ ] [ mood | relieved ]  Nicolas had left our home in a very strange mood. He and I share many things, yet we lead very separate lives. He would not speak of this ‘visitor’ no matter how many different ways I’d asked him. There are times when he will lock himself up tight like an oil drum so that I cannot see into his heart, no matter how I try. I almost followed him last night. The tension and excitement that hung about him were like thick webs of silk. I could almost feel them brush my skin as I walked past him before he left for the evening. One hour before dawn and I sought him out with my mind and heart. He was near and as open to me as a new born babe. Shock and fear caused my newly cooling skin to become as ice when I realized what he’d done and whom he’d been to see. As quick as a jungle cat I leapt from our balcony to land in the dark and empty streets below. I’d never wanted to move so fast in all my long years. Nicolas’ ‘prey’ was left many miles away and I knew the exact spot, but I might not make it. The sun was near rising and it did not give me much time to find a safe place for us to spend the day. Mind racing, I could not fathom on what next steps to take. We did not own a vehicle and I thought to steal one, but knew nothing about alarms. I had to make this journey on foot and as I sprinted faster than human eyes could see, I cursed the very name that I loved with all my heart. I had but a few minutes when I found him lying on the ground out in the open where the sun could burn him to ash. He was beyond recognizable, yet I knew the black sleek curls and the chiseled porcelain cheek bones as the one that had been made in his place. He was unconscious, but I gently lifted one eye lid to see for myself, the famous and magnificent emerald eyes for the first time. He weighed nothing. A dry husk I carried to a lair I had not used in years, not far away. There, as the first rays of dawn burned my dark eyes, I hid us away. He was safe with me and I would make sure that no harm would ever come to, Louis de Pointe du Lac.  2 Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

April 1st, 2008 7:35 pm Don't think that you are not on my mind.... [ ] Every love song On every TV And Hollywood told me It should be beautiful and sweet Like watching soul train With Marvin Gaye on But baby it hurts to love you Baby it hurts to need you too You're so lovely You come in armies Packing punches And swinging wildly at me Lord there must be Something worse in your whole universe But baby it hurts to love you Baby it hurts to need you too Then you're there in my door In the middle of the night You're so beautiful when you're high You're face red with blood and wine You tell me you're dying inside Baby it hurts to love you Baby it hurts to need you too In my mind's eye We're kissing madly Watching "All In The Family" Taking it easy Getting drunk on torch songs And fast food And me and you Baby it hurts Baby it hurts to love you Baby it hurts to love you Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

March 11th, 2008 6:22 pm I've Been Here Before [ ] [ mood | indescribable ] He believes that I should understand. Part of me does and though I watch him descend onto that lonely path of self-destruction my heart is always with him. I see patterns within patterns and he’s come full circle. We are back at the theatre and he is completely mad with a rage that boils over like a dark oily brew. I see him in an utter state; bow in hand, while he tears at the strings of the tightly wound instrument of his choosing. A bull that’s finally skewered the Matador, and the real victory is in -his- death. His eyes blaze with a light that steals all breath from you and does he actually see you looking back? Did he notice us in shock as he ripped through the notes with perfect precision and rhythm? Not a phrase out of tune, yet we were dizzy with the speed and watched as smoke rose like a jinni that threatens to bust the very thing that he loves most, into flames. No. There is only one that he will see when he plays like the demon that dines on his soul. Only one he focuses his fury upon. There were no crowds of admirers calling out this name as he grit his teeth while I and the others watched in dismay. There was no fan fair and fancy lights, only the inner gleam of his hate as I watched his lips move silently, sounding out his name a in mute savage chant. Lestat, Lestat, Lestat, Lestat......  Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

January 4th, 2008 8:54 pm Because. [ ] [ mood | happy ] Many ask the question, why? Why do I stay and what keeps me coming back? I ask myself this often and it is a complex explanation that I offer. I can leave whenever I wish and I have done so many times before. Yet. I always return. I return to the madness, the arguments, and the disillusion. I return knowing that he has genuinely missed my company and that he cares if I stay or go. I return thinking I must be as mad as him, and here I am this very night wondering what pulls me to him. Strong pale fingers caress the smooth wood of the devil’s instrument and something happens in that moment when he takes up his bow that I cannot explain. Put simply there is a blazing fire in his soul that I find lacking in mine; a presence that arrested me on the first night that we met. Put specifically, when he directs his anger and his self-destruction into his music there is nothing in the world that captivates me more. In that breath, he transcends everything wrong and encompasses beauty and strength like no other. Why do I desire and love Nicolas de Lenfent? Because he is my inner beast, my poetry and the one thing that holds me fascinated and keeps me bound to this world. If you really knew him as I did, you’d understand completely.   Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

November 11th, 2007 7:01 pm I'm ready to come home now, Love........ [ ] [ mood | lonely ] Day by day we fall apart Disintegrate the lightning rains across the sky but comes too late To change the mood and save us now It's criminal the way we love The way we hate it's almost human Eyes are opened wide Stood on the rooftop screamed at the sky again Danced to the radio end of the world we know Ugly is beautiful beauty in stereo Thinking of you Just like the earth spins high as a kite again There with the river flow end of the life I've known Ugly is beautiful beauty so terrible Thinking of you All the words we throw away Like paper cuts they just keep piling Higher and higher throughout the day Illogical the script we're writing It's chemical the way we love The way we hate it's quite inhuman Eyes are opened wide Stood on the rooftop screamed at the sky again Danced to the radio end of the world we know Ugly is beautiful beauty in stereo Thinking of you Just like the earth spins high as a kite again There with the river flow end of the world we've known Ugly is beautiful beauty so terrible Thinking of you   Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

November 1st, 2007 8:21 pm My name is Eleni. [ ] [ mood | content ] I was named after my Greek Grandmother – Eleni Dranias. She’d been born in the Peloponnesus region. I never met this woman but I’ve often been told that my black hair and dark eyes mirrored hers. How interesting it would have been to meet a woman whose eyes are so much like your own. I would have liked to look into those eyes, just to see the same deep brown ones looking back.  Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

October 23rd, 2007 7:45 pm A window into me. [ ] [ mood | curious ]   I often ponder on what you would think if you really knew about some of the things I’ve done. Nights like this take me back to a time where I lived as Satan’s child; convinced I belonged in rags while I slept by day among rotting corpses. Something ugly this way comes Through my fingers sliding inside All these blessings all these burns I'm godless underneath your cover Search for pleasure search for pain In this world now I am undying I unfurl my flag my nation helpless Black black heart why would you offer more Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy Im on fire Im rotting to the core Im eating all your kings and queens All your sex and your diamonds As I begin to lose my grip On these realities your sending Taste your mind and taste your sex Im naked underneath your cover Covers lie and we will bend and borrow With the coming sign The tide will take the sea will rise and time will rape Black black heart why would you offer more Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy Im on fire Im rotting to the core Im eating all your kings and queens All your sex and your diamonds Black black heart why would you offer more Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy Im on fire Im rotting to the core Im eating all your kings and queens All your sex and your diamonds Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

September 21st, 2007 4:41 pm Lord, have mercy. [ ] [ mood | determined ] The wind blows hard against this mountain side Across the sea into my soul. It reaches into where I cannot hide Setting my feet upon the road. My heart is old it holds my memories My body burns a gem like flame. Somewhere between the soul and soft machine Is where I find myself again. Kyrie Eleison Down the road that I must travel. Kyrie Eleison Through the darkness of the night. Kyrie Eleison Where I'm going will you follow? Kyrie Eleison On a highway in the light. When I was young I thought of growing old Of what my life would mean to me. Would I have followed down my chosen road Or only wished what I could be? 1 Comment ~ Add to Memories ~ Edit

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