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.

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