Quick Firinne piece
Jan. 28th, 2009 12:32 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annwfyn.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
zg_shadowsThe first thing to do, of course, was to find somewhere new to sleep. If Valdez was in the hands of the Sabbat that Firinne needed to assume that all her previous lairs had been compromised. God alone knows how she would sell the house in Slough in the present market, but she grimly decided to worry about that later. Right now she needed another small and obscure place, within driving distance of London and Oxford, where no one would think to look.
Her childe had the sweetest smile
Firinne closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply.
She was not going to think about that. She wasn't going to think about Valdez even for a moment. If she did that, she became weak. She couldn't help him if she were weak. She couldn't do her duty if she were a small and tearful mess on the floor.
No. She needed to focus. She needed to take every single weak, soft and useless part out of her and lock it in a damn box somewhere.
She'd done the same when Victor had died. You don't cry because your Sabbat brother has been executed.
What was she doing to help Valdez?
She shook her head.
She was saving the Masquerade first. It wouldn't do either her or Valdez much good if she rescued him, just to get burned at the stake by a mob with pitchforks, or (more likely) get decapitated by irritable archons.
And furthermore, she couldn't just run off after some crazed neonate. That wasn't who she was. It wasn't who she was raised to be.
She needed to stay cold.
Another stray thought rose up. This time Firinne didn't let it take shape into words or feelings, but just shook her head decisively.
She was done with acting like a school girl again. She was done with pretending to be human, with playing with emotions whilst the world around her burned.
She tied her hair back tightly.
She was a Valkyrie of the Camarilla.
Are you?
Yes. Yes, she was. She was a Valkyrie of the Camarilla, Seneschal of London, and about to be the person who shut down whatever idiocy was going on at the Channel 4 studios on February 1st.
And right now, she didn't have time to get emotional.
She had to find a new place to sleep, right now.
Once that was done, she needed to start marshalling all her contacts, and she needed to talk to Duncan and Kieran. They needed to confer on the possible use of Clan Assamite, and she suspected she needed to contact Jean Baptise Villon as soon as possible as well. He was, in Anton's absence, the head of the line and she suspected it would be better for him to hear this news of her childe from her rather than another.
And then she needed to prepare for all eventualities, including blowing up the damn studio if necessary.
She was not going to weep and wail.
She was a Valkyrie.
Nothing else mattered any more.
Her childe had the sweetest smile
Firinne closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply.
She was not going to think about that. She wasn't going to think about Valdez even for a moment. If she did that, she became weak. She couldn't help him if she were weak. She couldn't do her duty if she were a small and tearful mess on the floor.
No. She needed to focus. She needed to take every single weak, soft and useless part out of her and lock it in a damn box somewhere.
She'd done the same when Victor had died. You don't cry because your Sabbat brother has been executed.
What was she doing to help Valdez?
She shook her head.
She was saving the Masquerade first. It wouldn't do either her or Valdez much good if she rescued him, just to get burned at the stake by a mob with pitchforks, or (more likely) get decapitated by irritable archons.
And furthermore, she couldn't just run off after some crazed neonate. That wasn't who she was. It wasn't who she was raised to be.
She needed to stay cold.
Another stray thought rose up. This time Firinne didn't let it take shape into words or feelings, but just shook her head decisively.
She was done with acting like a school girl again. She was done with pretending to be human, with playing with emotions whilst the world around her burned.
She tied her hair back tightly.
She was a Valkyrie of the Camarilla.
Are you?
Yes. Yes, she was. She was a Valkyrie of the Camarilla, Seneschal of London, and about to be the person who shut down whatever idiocy was going on at the Channel 4 studios on February 1st.
And right now, she didn't have time to get emotional.
She had to find a new place to sleep, right now.
Once that was done, she needed to start marshalling all her contacts, and she needed to talk to Duncan and Kieran. They needed to confer on the possible use of Clan Assamite, and she suspected she needed to contact Jean Baptise Villon as soon as possible as well. He was, in Anton's absence, the head of the line and she suspected it would be better for him to hear this news of her childe from her rather than another.
And then she needed to prepare for all eventualities, including blowing up the damn studio if necessary.
She was not going to weep and wail.
She was a Valkyrie.
Nothing else mattered any more.
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no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 01:25 pm (UTC)...I really wish there were some way to get Firinne, Suli and Ellen in a game on the same side :)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-29 11:05 am (UTC)The main issue I have is that they wouldn't talk to each other. Coz, well, Firinne can't talk to non-Camarilla Kindred, Ellen is only allowed to be nice to the Sword of Caine, and Suli needs to kill wyrm beasts. Add in the fact that all three are too emotionally repressed to ever admit that they hate what they do at times, but feel it needs to be done, and I think that even if it didn't turn into combat, they'd be stuck on the polite and gritty small talk for ever instead.
Curse the useless females!
Bella, Skoll and Bridget would be much more communicative.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-29 12:26 pm (UTC)I still think it needs to happen :)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 01:49 pm (UTC)Sharpening the blade. Polishing out a minute blemish. Checking the draw to ensure there was nothing to snag or catch. Making sure the grooves were clean and clear for future use.
There is an art to everything. There is an art even to ensuring that someone else's art is completed perfectly.
There is an art to creating an ending which includes making sure that your condolences are prepared prior to the event.
My lady Firinne, Lady of Winter, I beg to be allowed to offer a small token...