((Not very good as I have hoped, not good at all for my first Zenobia RPng attempt. Sorry Avicus...))

She had been there, in silence, for centuries. That has been her home, an old sarcophagus in the abandoned building. She would hunt, and then quickly retreat to her seclusion. None knew of her, not even the grim Cemetery caretaker did not notice one of the graves had been raided, with no coffin and the corpse skewed on the earth. A small doll of porcelain she seemed, slumbering in the rotten wood coffin. It was gently laid in the closet of an empty room. It was only her, spiders, and dust in this room now.

The lid was carelessly flown from its resting position, and the tiny creature emerged from the box. So neglected was she, as if she has not bothered with anything in a long while. So true, for the being was very dust ridden and was clad it tattered clothing. Long waved of raven locks collected on her slender shoulder, her beautiful baby façade had a pallor mimicking that of alabaster. Large amber opticals search, darting about the room, and locked ahead as if studying something in the near distance.

Her steps were quick, and the pathetic black velvet cloak twisted and flew about her petite physique. The hood fell back onto her shoulders, and the young girl paused. Plumped lips were slack on her visage, the baby woman turning her skull to peer outside the front door of her building. Such the innocent Zenobia is, as she walked about the sidewalks, playing the shadows. Always the virgin, virgin to everything. A sweetness, or is it just pure ignorance?

In the alleyway is where she found her, that tall voluptuous woman. The cloak fell from her body, reveling fine girlish limps, perfected by immortal blood. Delicate hands took hold of the woman, Zenobias eyes wide and holding no expression. A confusing beauty was she, and she knew it, she knew it as she pulled the woman to her level.
The woman gave herself to the child, praying long lost hymns as if she were some beloved winged cherub, something from the painted church walls. Fine fingers ran through the woman’s skull. Zenobia captured the russet tresses, the victim now upon her knees reciting more Christian verses. Zenobia placed her lips on the nape of her hostage’s neck, soft breath gently brushing the living flesh.

Ivory fangs pierced the skin, sinking deeper as the child began to drink. Blood filled her mouth, coating her tongue and flying down her throat. It regenerated her, every vessel and vain becoming what it once was. A soft moan erupted from her lips, the two females tangled together as if they were lovers. A small hand upon the womans breast, such envy. The mortal now was becoming limp, and the immortal listened onward as the two heartbeats began their deadly waltz. The corpse now fell upon the child lifelessly, a mangled assemblage of limbs upon the pavement alleyway. Long lashes stroked her rounded cheeks; Zenobia stared at the being on the ground before her. She bites her tongue, letting her ancient blood pour forth as she placed a light kiss on her marking she left in her wake.

More hurried steps, the new blood flooding her face to rest pleasantly in her pinked girl flesh. Zenobia hurried down the street, more, more. How long has it been since a kill? To long, weeks. The being rushed about, head spinning with the weakness that was to overcome. Lungs rising and collapsing with the cool oxygen, the ebony tresses flying about her visage as she looked about. Lost, lost again. Dawn was not approaching, but, where to hide.

I have continued, how, I do not know. I do not have much will to carry on, except my heart. I am terrified of this world, although it fascinates me beyond recognition. These new technologies, the automobiles, everything. I want to know, to learn, to gather up this knowledge the world has to offer. I am so detached, from everyone, from myself. At times I’m terrified I will forget, that one night I will not recall my main objective. To find Avicus.

I have always been a slave. A slave to Eudoxia, then to Avicus. That brilliant Celtic god pulling at my heart strings. Now, now I am free and I do not know what to do with myself. I want to be in it all, I want to be out in the world. This age, I, I’m so alone. I know my Marius has wrote of me in his novel Blood and Gold. I’m not angry, glad to know that I have not been forgotten! I fear others not knowing me, since I fear I am forgetting myself. If that happens, I will be nothing.

Cautious steps I take into this new age, only hoping to see Avicus or some familiarity at the end of the darkened tunnel. Yes, love pulls me onward. I feel as if I was Julius Caesar 'I saw, and I conquered'. Yes, I saw this world, and I wish to conquer. Watch out, I'm coming.

A fragile being among the flowers was she, now reclining on the wooden bench beside some public garden. Tender lids were at half mast, blood tears falling and staining the flawless flesh of the young girl. “Oh spite, now I am here and alone. I should have just stayed to my usual places, just around the building. Scared, alone, where am I to go? I need to do something, to find someone. But, no one knows me, I know no one. I have not communicated in so long; have not seen another vampire in ages…not since Avicus”