One would always draw a line.

My brain is a plate of fullfilling oddities.

So let us dine.

Soft malady dipped in brine.

Master, mistress, hide my bones. I've learned the hidden throughs.

The Chantry's defi-essences left more scars and holes than necessary.

Those sane moments needed unmending.

Of all the Tzimisce I found (and on afterthought, it found me)

The Carpatian let me partake of the blood of change.

Wicked, wily, warped.

I am what I want, but the blood was tainted.

No, I mean sacred. As my mind is now.