Who shall wear the starry crown

[Christine Daye]

Christine laughs.

"Very well, we have a bargain!"

She waves a finger at Helen in mock admonishment.

"No rushing to your death just to hear it, mind! I shall write you more poetry, if it will encourage you to take care of yourself! And you must promise to haunt me too... I would like that... far more fun than Papa..."

She grins.

"...ah... the Dairy God... I hope he likes his music... I want to see Iolanthe! Did you hear that they have electric lights? How marvellous would that be?! I wonder if we could get them installed at the Ceryneian... "

She lies back, watching the stars. The same, and yet so different from Egypt.

"As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the starry crown
Good Lord, show me the way!

O sisters, let's go down,
Let's go down, come on down
O sisters, let's go down
Down in the river to pray"

((https://youtu.be/zSif77IVQdY))

[annabelle]

Helen chuckles, eyes still closed.

“There no rush, there never was. I make bad choices but I need to stay alive to honour the dead one day. Will definitely be an entertaining ghost though if we come to that, will have plenty of fun….sorry about your father…that doesn’t sound pleasant. At all.”

“…if it will encourage you to take care of yourself!”

That brought instant silence. She opens her eyes and stares at the sky with confusion. Wait, when did she forgot the importance of caring for her own well-being? Was it ever there? She couldn’t remember really. Tracing back her life from the start till now, a strange realisation hit her.

Moving her head to face Christine with wonder. Her eyes soft and oddly intimidated.

“Poetry will help yes. Thank you. I will do that, care for myself, not sure how but will try I promise. But need more poetry please.” And she grins playfully while enjoying her beautiful voice.

[Christine Daye]

"...well then... more poetry you shall have... I shall enjoy that..."

Christine giggles.

"...the Toreador will be so jealous to know that my muses are Nosferatu and Ventrue... I wonder... no one passed any comment on my own pieces at the party... though Maestra was very pleased..."

She smiles a little smile, smug and satisfied, like the cat that got the cream.

"...but it was Sissy Face who got the boon.... hey ho... he'll need it if he goes feeding in Toreador territory again... he must have looked like a drowned rat, climbing out of the river..."

[annabelle]

A comical guilty expression marks the Ventrue's features "I barely heard anything of the poems. Not only yours but everyone's. I heard sentences now and then but most of the times I was confused. Too many drugs and lack of Auspex. I am sorry...."

Muses..


There is a smile forming for that reference. So humbled and joyful. She smiled frequently but it was rarely a genuine smile of happiness and warmth, always shadowed, always burdened. Interesting, it was interesting and she couldn't help it from forming. There was light in her left wasn't it? Christine was summoning it, only her, no one else. It felt precious and important, maybe there was something innocent left after all these years, maybe maybe. Maybe that young girl was still there. Maybe maybe she can keep it somewhere safe for Christine while the rest of her is diving into the deep dark waters. Maybe maybe, she can save this regardless of her future plans. Maybe, so many maybes and her gaze on Christine with an unspoken emotion.

The giggling emerges and is such a soothing sound "Mr Syphilis was weird at the party. What kind of Keeper is feeding in another's clan territory? That man is peculiar but I find him entertaining. A barely Ancilla looking down upon the Neonates like he is an Elder. Definitely entertaining. " a snort escapes.

[Christine Daye]

"...well... Miss Caswell's poem was truly awful... so bad I corpsed! Which is more than a little embarrassing! Mr Price's limericks were entertaining, even if the metre was a bit off... the rest was pretty standard... even Katherine's... "

She frowns.

"...I'm very cross with Katherine! The baby... at the Christmas party? She gave it to Constance... Miss Caswell... and the poor thing... she put all the effort into finding it a place at an orphanage... and tracking down its parents... but at least the baby is well and safe... no thanks to Katherine! "

She pauses for a moment.

"...as for Sissy Face... maybe he secretly is an elder? Who knows? He's certainly arrogant enough for it..."

[annabelle]

"Constance's poem was my favourite." Helen says with a chuckle "No offence Christine, I prefer cynicism these days. Only way to get through the night." and the chuckle turns into a bitter laugh that transforms into a groan.

"The baby... I wanted to take it but Jackdaw seems so protective over it and after what I did to their house I couldn't go back."

She sighs and shakes her heads

"Katherine, oh Katherine and Katherine who. I guess she is more edgy than we expected. She contacted me from the house on the hill. Are you aware of what is going Christine?"

[Christine Daye]

"None taken!!" Christine laughs. "It amused me too, the poem... it is just so Constance!"

She sobers.

"Last I saw Katherine she was wailing and carrying on about how terrible her life was... but when I tried to ask what was wrong, tried to help... she just shut me down completely..."

A sigh.

"We used to be friends... but she has a new person to shower her in attention... so I am ignored... she has no loyalty... or consideration for anyone outside herself and Mr Jackdaw... so no, I have heard nothing..."

[annabelle]

"Loyalty." Helen repeats with a contemplating tone. It's more of a question, like the word sounds new in her tongue and she repeats the word again.

"Sometimes I am wondering if we are capable as Cainites to be loyal. Its feasible to be loyal as a human, you don't have eternity. You have limited time and everything is important and urgent. But it feels sometimes that loyalty is a habit, a shadow of that idea and we neonates are clinging to it. Too young, too human, too early.

And time passes and the beast might get stronger and slowly we might loose that piece that used to define us. And then what? Darkness, emptyness and solitude. Quite sad isn't it? Yes but the saddest part is that we propably won't care anymore. There is nothing human to weep for the lost persona. That person is gone, vanished, a mocking memory of mortality. It might be a natural path for our kind or a way to escape the pain. I don't know.

Do you ever talk to your souls? They must be ancient..."

[Christine Daye]

"...perhaps loyalty is just a habit... a lingering relic of humanity..."

Christine shrugs.

"...perhaps, like love and friendship and joy... it will fade away as the years progress... but... I choose not to... loyalty... love... these keep me... keep the inner animal quiet... so, for the moment at least... I choose to embrace the habit... and sing..."

She grins.

"...my souls? More ancient than a mayfly, and newer born than the stars! I have so much to learn from them... did you know it was only since I came to Bath that I realised I was a Trinity? It made such sense when I was told! And now... seeing visions of the present... the past... the music swirling in my head... the glory of it all... I am truly connected to the Universe! It is a beautiful thing!"

[annabelle]

“A habit and you’ve chosen that…I guess that’s no different with humans. Everything is a choice…or not, who knows…” she murmurs, contemplating her choices and her mistakes. Did she ever did anything right? Will she even make any right choice, or she is bound to make mistakes. Questions, so many questions and there is never an answer or a catharsis or a salvation. Only acceptance.

“What a wonderful ability Christine. To see the present and past, I suppose you can avoid repeating past mistakes doesn’t it? A different perception, I assume it changes your view of everything including your pain and joy, doesn’t it? What does the universe says nowadays?” her question filled with wonder.