Ah. I've spent about a month away from Volterra on my so-called 'travels', checking out other covens. An annual thing the Volturi secretly does to ensure every ass is in the right place.
The only remarkable thing that has happened with that is the chase I've had in Forks with the Cullens and the mutts. That was fun. I loved the rush more than anything. I knew what I was capable of and they could try to match it, but hell and shit knows they couldn't.
That's how I roll.
Arriving at the castle was not all fun when I had Master Aro almost rip my head off for failing him after telling him about that chase. That chase I was so fucking glad I've had. I have failed him for having not taken more precaution as to my position while hiding and so led to me being caught. -shrugs- Shit, i know.
After that, we spent the weekend at the Cayman Islands for the Egyptian couple Tia and Benjamin's wedding. The fucking reason why I was almost killed on the spot. And there was my confirmation I hated social events. Or ceremonies. That sort of ceremony for that matter.
I still have not figured out my past completely. I haven't read through my diary as a human to the end. Maybe some time I will have enough courage to face it again. So far I've noticed, I still feel fear finding out more. It was enough finding out that I once had a wife and a son. That was too much knowing already. I haven't even figured out what happened. I have not reached that part yet. Where were they and how did they die? Did I 'die' before them?
Looking back, I could only remember Master Aro as the first person whom I saw after enduring days of writhing in pain. He took me from there, and from there my past was completely forgotten.
And moving on to the present...
Katrina of the Denali coven.
She fucking happened.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Starting Off
What do I even fucking write about on a first official entry? Hm. Give me ideas. I could write off what I do from day-to-day, RPer and character. -coughs-
So let's say, here I am rambling me ass off. What does Demetri say?
A whole lot of bullshit is what' I'd say. -laughs-
I can rant, I can cuss. I can spit, but no, not swallow. -laughs hard- Women do that.
Can't even ask a good question.
What's your favorite football team? Hockey team? Basketball team?
What car are you driving? What color?
The PM is just taking some well-deserved rest from this gruesome week with work issues. Don't we all hate it.
And for those asking, I don't have a PM Twitter account...... yet. Should I? -laughs- I think I can update from here anyway. Not that my life is any interesting but you all get my point.
And on to the real entries...
Can you take the heat? -smirks-
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Demetri : In Perspective
To roam the earths and search for my aim.
Born the 15th of November, 1344, Demetri Voltaggio, as I have been named, first cried out on that star-filled night, that those that have guided me throughout my life. I, for one, had been always up for the adventure, always searching for answers, and every time, I found pleasure in accomplishing them.
It was during the Renaissance period in Italy and all things flourished. I had great admiration for the arts, as well as writing which is one hobby that filled my every leisure time available. Sketching and painting were something I have done in replacement. I was one with the times. I had talent, undeniably, but more than so, with every used canvas and parchment, I had been searching for answers to many varying questions. And find them, I did. I would have gone where I needed to go and find what I needed. It became a passion. It was my skill.
As every young man, I have found a woman to admire and adore. The first and last, and with a name I would never get around to disclose. She was everything to me, the only one, and away from the scrutiny of my parents who were prominent at that time, we eloped. Not long after did she bear a child, our firstborn son. We lived in bliss and could not ask for more. With a threat of cutting me off from the wealth of the family, I carried on providing for them with some small living at a far-off town. Anything I have worked hard for, sufficed. We were happy.
It was that one fateful day that I went home from a grueling day at work did I find out about my wife and son missing. I waited the next day and have seen nothing of them. Days turned into weeks, and into months and every day I searched for them, but to no avail. The frustration and anger ruled me, and yet I was too weak from not feeding, gaunt and sullen-looking.
Hope betrayed me as a human, for when I was alone in the woods, desperate to look for them everywhere, a gust of wind passed by me so quickly, and with a piercing howl at the pain that surged through a gash on my arm, I fell to my knees, dropping to the earths and writhed for days. The pain was excruciating, unbearable. Indescribable, so to speak. The heat coursed throughout my body and it felt as though my blood was molten lava, eating me from the inside completely. One day it just happened, my heartbeats pounded so fast as though my heart wanted to escape the confines of my chest, thrumming wildly, until it came to a complete halt.
Once I opened my eyes, everything was sharp and strong. Scents were more distinct and the sounds were so clear.
I never knew who changed me but that same day, a man looked down upon me as I lay on the forest floor, with a soft smile upon his lips, nodding at me.
Born the 15th of November, 1344, Demetri Voltaggio, as I have been named, first cried out on that star-filled night, that those that have guided me throughout my life. I, for one, had been always up for the adventure, always searching for answers, and every time, I found pleasure in accomplishing them.
It was during the Renaissance period in Italy and all things flourished. I had great admiration for the arts, as well as writing which is one hobby that filled my every leisure time available. Sketching and painting were something I have done in replacement. I was one with the times. I had talent, undeniably, but more than so, with every used canvas and parchment, I had been searching for answers to many varying questions. And find them, I did. I would have gone where I needed to go and find what I needed. It became a passion. It was my skill.
As every young man, I have found a woman to admire and adore. The first and last, and with a name I would never get around to disclose. She was everything to me, the only one, and away from the scrutiny of my parents who were prominent at that time, we eloped. Not long after did she bear a child, our firstborn son. We lived in bliss and could not ask for more. With a threat of cutting me off from the wealth of the family, I carried on providing for them with some small living at a far-off town. Anything I have worked hard for, sufficed. We were happy.
It was that one fateful day that I went home from a grueling day at work did I find out about my wife and son missing. I waited the next day and have seen nothing of them. Days turned into weeks, and into months and every day I searched for them, but to no avail. The frustration and anger ruled me, and yet I was too weak from not feeding, gaunt and sullen-looking.
Hope betrayed me as a human, for when I was alone in the woods, desperate to look for them everywhere, a gust of wind passed by me so quickly, and with a piercing howl at the pain that surged through a gash on my arm, I fell to my knees, dropping to the earths and writhed for days. The pain was excruciating, unbearable. Indescribable, so to speak. The heat coursed throughout my body and it felt as though my blood was molten lava, eating me from the inside completely. One day it just happened, my heartbeats pounded so fast as though my heart wanted to escape the confines of my chest, thrumming wildly, until it came to a complete halt.
Once I opened my eyes, everything was sharp and strong. Scents were more distinct and the sounds were so clear.
I never knew who changed me but that same day, a man looked down upon me as I lay on the forest floor, with a soft smile upon his lips, nodding at me.
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