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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