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#of all the disgusting racist trash splattered all of over this place this is the hill you want to die on??
papirouge · 1 year
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I'm not saying your opinion bears any weight on the facts, haha. My point is that your gatekeeping is built on falsehoods, so your vitriol is destructive. Children born to certain races are literally that race as well. You're my sister in Christ. I pray that God's truth is not lost on you and you find content in letting divisiveness go.
What I'm saying is actually factual, it's just your entitlement to lecture a Black person what it takes to be Black clouds your ability to process correctly what I said
- me saying a mixed person from Black and White parents isn't Black doesn't deny the fact they are Black and White. There's no retrieving anything off their identity. Like café au lait is both coffee AND milk but it's not coffee or milk - it's BOTH, in the same time. It's insane how oddly obtuse you're being about it.
- there's nothing vitriolic or divisive about acknowledging mixed people are different from ppl of one race. You're the only one making an issue. Actually, if you knew what you were talking about, you'd know that claiming mixed people as our own actually feeds colorism in the Black community (ever wondered why mixed and lightskins/exoticals were overtaking the representation of Black women on mainstream media?) and that actual mixed people try to claim their own identity beside Black or White dichotomy?
The Rachel Dolezal stunt would never happened if Black people were gatekeeping more what it takes to claim as 'us'. Actually this scandal has been a wakeup call for those who were still into this "Black comes in all shades" koolaid, and I'm glad more and more speak up about how ridiculous the one drop rule is
Is saying that Asians are (physically) different from Whites? Like... I don't understand what's demonization in this. Acknowledging the difference between human population ≠ considering some better or lesser..
sorry but you seems to project A LOT more in my initial statement than I actually meant and I wish you'd stop getting all "I pray for you" condescending because there literally wasn't any bad feeling aimed towards any particular race or community in it🤨
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softisdangerous · 3 years
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Excerpt from Chap 17 of Call of the Blood
Eric’s POV - Thursday July 16th & Friday, July 17th, 2009
I closed the bar for the night. Interrogating the drainers had been useless, and their screams were both irritating and loud, but at least Chow enjoyed his work. Pam had been telling me for months that it was time to adjust our styling again, to keep up with the times and that my long hair was getting to the point of ridiculous. I did not like to change my hair, but I was inclined to let her pamper me a bit. I had been short tempered with her, nearly biting her head off at every question she asked me. My ill-temper was only exacerbated by the fact that I was ridiculously thirsty, and the only thing that sounded remotely appetizing to me was Jane’s fresh blood.
But I wasn’t about to put her at risk again. No, I lacked the control to drink from her right now. It was nearly unthinkable that after a thousand years I still couldn’t master all of my bloodlust, but I wasn’t too proud to admit it, if only to myself. It did have me questioning what made Jane so unique. I was beginning to wonder if she was all human, or if she had some latent ancestry that made her blood addictive, and made the drinker…what? What effect did she have on me? Insanity? Obsession?
Love?
I squashed that thought quickly. No, she was just unique and Godric was missing.
Pam was putting foul chemicals on my head and idly explaining what she was doing, but I wasn’t focusing on her words. I was still attempting to think. Godric missing? He would have told me where he was. He had always informed me when he was leaving, even if he knew that I wouldn’t be pleased by his departure. How could he be missing? The drainers had no methods that Godric wouldn’t have been able to overcome. He was too old, too powerful for drainers to have taken him. And based on the conversation of prisoners downstairs, I doubted there was nothing these racists could do that Godric wouldn’t simply be able to bat away. That wouldn’t stop me from questioning him, most vigorously.
I despised the newest addition to the prison in the basement. Royce Allen Williams. It constantly talked, finally admitting shame for past actions, only now, when confronted with imminent demise. I knew these weak types. If released, he would return exactly to his old ways, claim it was an act of God and continue on with dishonorable acts. My teeth were already on edge and then when it discussed escaping… I couldn’t control my rage.
Pam sighed loudly when she heard its plans to escape.
“Don’t fuck up your hair,” she demanded as I stood to go collect it.
“I won’t Pam, I’ll bring it up, let Chow do the dirty work, and then he can put the rat back in it’s cage.”
She huffed, but didn’t stop me.
I strolled down to the basement silently.
“I got a plan. I'm busting us out,” the racist claimed.
“Don't be an idiot,” the V dealer advised wisely.
“I'll come back for you. Promise,” the man claimed. I made some noise so they would know I was coming. I heard their heart rates jump and it was almost enough to make me smile. I hummed softly to myself.
“Shh, Shut up.”
“Shushing won't do you any good, Sweetheart. We hear everything. Since you made me come all the way down here, I'm gonna take out some of the garbage,” I told them as I removed the cape that Pam had placed on me to prevent the chemicals in my hair from staining my clothes. I knelt down in front of the pathetic piece of trash that had burned Malcom, Liam, and Diane’s nest to the ground. “Royce Allen Williams, we have a few questions for you, with regard to a fire which killed three of our kind.” I stared him down.
“No fucking way, man. I don't know anything,” he said, pretending to not be afraid, but I could hear his heart pounding.
“Crimes against vampires are on the rise. We even lost a Sheriff just days ago. We seek answers.” I unchained him and pushed him forward and then, most surprisingly, he turned and struck me across the face.
He screamed at me, “Die, you dead fucker!”
I was furious when I felt the burn of silver against my face, how had I not noticed? The stench of human filth was disgusting and overwhelming. One more reason to not chain prisoners this way; it was impossible to scent silver through the odor.
That silver burn against my skin… it amplified all the emotions I had been trying to resist. My fear, my rage, my bloodlust. It all came pouring forth.
I eviscerated him where he stood, drinking his filthy blood and pulling off several of his limbs. It was, in no way, satisfying. I felt worse than before, still thirsty, and more on edge than ever. I tossed an arm away, and it accidentally splattered against the final prisoner, the V dealer, Lafayette Reynolds.
“If you have any silver on you, now would be the time to reveal it,” I told him.
From his hiding spot behind a post he called out, “No way. I ain't that stupid.”
“Yes, you are,” I replied. And then I noticed how much blood I had on my hands. I went to wipe my mouth and realized I had splattered it all over. “Is there blood in my hair?” I asked the man.
“What?” he responded. Was he an idiot or just hard of hearing?
“Is there blood in my hair?” I asked him again, louder.
“I..I don't know, I can't see in this light,” he stuttered out.
I zoomed over to him.
“How about now?” I asked, looking into his deep eyes.
“Yeah, there's a little bit of blood there,” he stammered, his heart pounded deliciously. At least he was honest. I wished I could scent him more, but all I could smell was the blood of the racist and the foul scent of human waste.
“Well this is bad. Pam is gonna kill me,” I realized out to loud to him.
“Who the fuck is Pam?” he asked and I found it amusing that he had so quickly forgotten his place.
“Why, do you wanna meet her?” I asked, toying with him.
“No. No. I'm good,” he replied, and I found his mock confidence charming.
“Well, you're going to,” I told him as I unchained him.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked as I held him by the back of the neck and pushed him forward.
“To find out what you know,” I explained, kicking the remaining bits of the racist out of the way. “I wouldn't try anything rash if I were you. I'm still hungry.”
I brought him up to the office where Pam and Chow were waiting, I pushed him into the chair opposite the desk as Pam started berating me.
“What the fuck, Eric!” she snapped. “You’ve ruined your hair!”
She had already been upset with me, and now this?
“I’m sorry Pam, it was not my intention,” I told her with a sigh, I didn’t often apologize to her, but it was called for.
I sat on the stool, she put a fresh cape on me, and then she began to assess the damage.
“This is a disaster. We'll have to go much shorter than I planned.”
“Yeah, well, I said I was sorry, Pam. But he took silver to me,” I explained. I looked at the V dealer, Lafayette Reynolds. “You were there. You saw it. Defend me,” I urged him.
“I don't know what it is you wanna know, but point me in the direction, and I give to you,” he told me earnestly and fearfully.
“I've seen your website,” I started, Chow had shown me it earlier. It was an impressive bit of tawdriness, and I was certain it was lucrative. “It's quite, uh, low rent. But your clients miss you, Lafayette. They're wondering if you're ever coming back.”
“Am I?” he asked, and I let the silence linger. “Look, I'm here because of the V, right? How 'bout I give you the names of everybody I ever sold to?” Already so cooperative? Lovely.
“And all this time I thought prostitutes were good at keeping secrets,” Pam snarked, knowing the prevarication of that statement more than anyone. Prostitutes would only keep a secret for a price, and for her the price had always been quite high.
“Don't get it twisted, honeycomb, I'm a survivor first, a capitalist second, and a whole bunch of other shit after that. But a hooker, dead last. So if I got even a Jew at an al Qaeda pep rally shot at getting my black ass up out this motherfucker, I'm taking it. Now, what you wanna know?”
Pam smiled, absolutely delighted, and I could see why. This Lafayette Reynolds was a cut from the exact same cloth as her.
A survivor first, a businesswoman second, and a hooker dead last.
“The vampire you had your little arrangement with. Eddie Fournier. What happened to him?” I asked.
“I don't know. I swear to God I don't. Last time I saw him he was doing real good. But I think he may have been taken by somebody,” Lafayette had hesitated to tell me this information, he must have an inkling of the perpetrator.
“By whom?” I prompted.
“I don't know,” he started. “I mean I ain't sure.”
“Hm, that's not very forthcoming of you,” I told him. I looked over at my enforcer, who had been waiting so very patiently. “Chow, you're up.”
“No! No, chill out. Shit,” Lafayette held up his hand to Chow, motioning for him to stop, and then Lafayette caved. “I think it... I think it was... Jason Stackhouse.”
“Jason Stackhouse?” I asked, nonplussed.
“Sookie's brother,” Pam reminded me in Swedish. “Could be fun,” she added and then I remember him. Handsome, AB negative, and he had come to the bar looking for vampire blood.
“Fun, but also stupid. Sookie is too important for us now,” I reminded Pam. She was an asset, one that I wanted working for me.
“That's true,” Pam agreed, reluctantly.
“Sadly, this information is of no use to me. Not now, anyway,” I told the confused looking Lafayette. Then I moved on to the line of questioning that I had been most anxious to discuss. “I understand dealers of vampire blood sometimes trade product with one another across state lines. Any buyers in the Dallas area?” I asked, revealing some of what I had learned from the drainers before I had killed them. Their blood was all bagged up and sitting in the freezer now, and the irony of draining drainers was not lost on me.
“One,” Lafayette said right away, cooperating fully. “He never gave me his name though. I have an e-mail address. [email protected].”
Pam smirked at the email address, and I wondered briefly if she was going to change her online handle.
“A friend of mine in the Dallas area, his name is Godric, has gone missing. Now, while the circumstances of his disappearance are unclear, it stands to reason his blood would be very valuable, as he's over twice my age and ten times the vampire I will ever be,” I said and realized that I had said more than I wanted. That my worries about him were sliding smoothly from my tongue and that I needed to feed again if I was ever going to get myself under control.
“Oh Eric, you don't do humble well,” Pam said teasingly, trying to lighten my mood. She knew with Godric missing, I was more on edge than ever.
“I was not being humble. This happens to be true,” I nearly snapped at her again, and I saw her hurt at my behavior toward her. I focused back on my line of questioning.“Your associate, this ‘pussylover’, has he or she mentioned any new product coming on the market?”
“No, no. And I would tell you. You know that,” he told me and I knew that he was honest, but it frustrated me to no end that he had nothing that could help.
I turned to Chow and asked him, “Take our guest and lock him back out, will you?”
Lafayette jumped to his feet. “Fuck that, I ain't going back down there. I gave you…”
“You gave me nothing!” I shouted, furious that this man had no information that would lead to Godric.
“I'm not going back.” Lafayette tried to push Chow away, and I gave the order again.
“Chow, now.”
Lafayette fought against Chow and I found it curious. I couldn’t help but be impressed by his vigor, his fight, his passion.
“I gave you every... I gave you everything! I ain't going back down!” he continued to shout as Chow manhandled him back down to the basement.
It was then that I heard the sound of an additional human heart beat and the soft scent of roses. I reached out to my blood in Jane and, of course, she was standing in the hall outside the office. What in Hel was she doing here?
The door creaked open and there was sweet little Jane. Her eyes widened as she took in my appearance. Perhaps this would scare her off for good.
“Jane,” I greeted her.
“I guess I should have called,” she said meekly.
“Yes,” I replied. She certainly had the power understatement. I turned to Pam, “Leave us. I need to glamour her.” Pam looked over at Jane and shook her head, leaving the office and shutting the door behind her. Why had Jane even come here? I didn’t want to have to do this, but she left me with no choice! I looked over at little Jane, she looked especially young and doll-like. “I have to glamour you now. You realize that?”
“Why?” she asked, clearly confused.
I prayed for the patience of Baldr, and I rested my hands on my desk. She drove me absolutely insane.
“You saw one of the prisoners, and he recognized you, even. What is to prevent you from telling the human authorities what you saw?” I asked her, and she stared me down.
“I won’t,” she promised. “It’s none of their business. You’re the Sheriff. He was the V dealer, I assume?” she asked, crossing her arms, and pushing her perfect bosom higher.
“Yes,” I acknowledged.
“I won’t tell anyone I saw him. Please… don’t glamour me,” she begged me and I saw her lip tremble in fear. I believed she wouldn’t give up this information knowingly, but her mind was open to any vampire, and now the telepath as well. I had to glamour her, for her own safety.
“It’s too dangerous for you as well. Especially now that you’re friends with a telepath, your silence could incriminate you,” I explained to her. Those dark blue green eyes of hers steeled and I could help but feel proud of her. She could be quite brave, facing something that she feared so greatly.
“What will you do? Make me forget?” she asked.
“That path leads to many problems, as you saw with Ginger. You will retain the memory, but you won’t be able to think of it. You will know, but you won’t be able to say anything about it.” I didn’t want to have to glamour her, and I worried about this.I knew too much glamouring would damage her mind. And her mind was a unique one.
She nodded at me, drawing her courage around her.
I hated this. I remember what she had told me, that it felt like mind rape. I never wanted to make her feel violated, especially in light of the other trauma she had experienced.
“Fine,” she told me and I began the glamour.
“Jane.”
Her eyes glazed over and I imposed my will on her.
“You will not be able to think of the man that you saw Chow take to the basement. You will not speak of what you witnessed to anyone.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
I released her and she lurched to the trash bin, vomiting. Humans and their fluids. I’d had enough of them today. She sat on the couch, and I felt her through the blood. I felt her upset. Why did she do this? It made me hate myself.
“Why did you come?” I asked her.
“I wanted to talk to you. I can see that you’re... busy. I’ll go. I’ll text or call next time,” she told me vaguely, standing to leave. I grabbed her arm, my intention had been to ask her to elaborate, to explain what her purpose was but I felt her warmth beneath my hand and all my urges to devour and claim her came hurtling to the surface. The look she gave me, the feeling from her in the blood...lust. She wanted me. She wanted me even when I was covered in blood.
My fangs dropped hard and I was seconds away from biting her throat and fucking her on my desk.
What the fuck was wrong with me? I released her quickly and forced my fangs up painfully.
“Jane. Things are...tense. With my Maker missing,” I tried to explain, but I really couldn’t. I couldn’t explain my loss of control around her.
“Let me know if I can help,” she offered sweetly.
She had no idea of the danger I posed to her, I shook my head at her. “I will not hurt you again,” I promised her.
She smiled her strange sad smile, the one that made the area where my heart used to pulse ache.
“Goodnight, Eric,” she said softly, and then she left.
What the fucking Hel!? I slammed my hand against the wall, creating a crack in the plaster and I didn’t give a flying fuck.
What was wrong with me?
****
The next evening I took Pam to the mall and allowed her to shop and style me as she pleased. It seemed the very least I could do and having my childe close brought me comfort. I wore Godric’s platinum coated fang around my throat, as if wearing it would allow me to find him.
As we were strolling through the mall, who should we see but Bill fucking Compton.
Then, in a stroke of genius, I had an idea. Bill’s telepathic human could search for Godric. Sookie could investigate the humans at the Fellowship of the Sun and see if Stan’s assertion that they were behind Godric’s disappearance was correct.
“Go to the bar Pam, I’ll meet you there after I negotiate with Billy boy,” I told her. She brushed invisible lint from the navy tracksuit she had dressed me in and then departed with a smile. While it wasn’t what I would choose for myself, I was fine with indulging my child in her game of dressup.
I strolled through the store, and meandered over to Bill.
“Good evening, old sport,” I greeted him, hoping to make him feel at ease. He would be easier to bargain with if he was in a giving mood.
“Eric?” he said, astounded, by either my presence or my new attire, it was hard to say.
“It's the new me. You like?” I asked, smirking. How many times do we have to reinvent ourselves?
“I do. Very much,” Bill agreed, the Mainstreamer he was, he would likely follow all the latest human trends. I almost scoffed at the idea of him wearing one of those hats that truckers wear. The sales associate that had been attempting to hit on him, backed away sheepishly.
“Oh, okay,” she looked between us and I realized that she thought we were a couple. Hilarious, as if Bland Bill could stir my passions.
“We need to talk,” I told him.
He glared and I led him away from the humans and began to explain.
“The Sheriff of Area 9 in Texas has gone missing. Have you heard about that?”
“I hadn't, but I know the vampire of whom we speak. His name is Godric, correct?”
I wondered how Bill knew of Godric. But Godric’s reputation did precede him.
“Indeed. Now it goes without saying he needs to be found. Which is where Sookie comes in. As she's yours, I'm asking your permission to take her with me to Dallas,” I explained my plan to him.
“Eric, you can do whatever you want with me, but I am not putting her in this position anymore. I cannot and I will not allow you to bring her into these matters,” he said, not even attempting to barter with me.
“We made a deal, your human and I. That if I didn't kill, she would work for me as often as I like. Now, you remember this, don't you? You were there,” I reminded him.
“Taking her across state lines is a far cry from taking her to Fangtasia for the evening,” Bill said sternly, clearly not willing to discuss this further. What a fool.
“I'm only asking your permission out of respect. If I want her, I can simply take her. Is "no" your final answer?” I asked him.
“It is,” he said firmly.
I shook my head, and replied, “Poorly played, Bill.”
He wasn’t even willing to try to bargain with me, and I wondered again about his purpose with the telepathic waitress. I checked my phone on the way out of the mall, surprised to see that I missed several calls from Pam. I called her as I strolled out.
“You rang?” I asked.
“Mmm, yeah, the lovely Lafayette Reynolds tried to escape and Ginger shot him,” Pam said in her usual tone.
“Is he dead?” I asked her in Swedish.
“Not yet, our meretricious little Macgyver dug the metal hip out of his dead compadre with his teeth, used it to break his chains, and then attempted to seduce Ginger into letting him go,” Pam explained gleefully. “I like him, can we keep him?”
“Creative,” I commented as I exited the mall. “I’ll be there soon.”
I went behind the mall and took off in flight. I had to stop and pick up the accounting work from Bruce, and then I was able to return to Fangtasia. I strolled into the back, checking over the numbers for the bar. It was scented with rich thick blood, flavorful and powerful...full of untapped potential.
“Sorry to keep you waiting for so long,” I said as I entered the office. “How's the leg?” I asked Lafayette.
“Shitty. Thanks for asking,” he replied with sarcasm at his pain and Pam grinned again.
“After all your proclamations about what a model prisoner you were going to be, you had to try to escape,” I said, curious about his reasoning, but he did say he was a survivor first. I couldn’t really begrudge him that.
“You were going to kill me anyway, right?” he asked next and Pam smirked. We’d certainly have to kill him now, he wasn’t going to make it without medical care.
“Now you'll never know. So, what's it gonna be, Lafayette? Would you like the leg to kill you, or would you prefer us to do it?”
“I'm gonna go with plan C,” he said and he surprised me, such a rare thing for a breather.
“There's a plan C?” I asked.
“Make me a vampire,” he offered.
“I beg your pardon?”
Then he began to make his case, “And you can put me to work in the bar. I'm a good dancer. You seen it on my site. Shit, I get up there and move Earth and heaven, go-go style.”
I came and stood over him, not sure what he knew about vampires and turning. “You are aware there's a gaping hole in your leg? You're damaged goods,” I tested him.
“Not if you turn me. I'll be good as ever.” So he did know at least that much. “Look, I... I'm already a person of poor moral character, so I'll hit the ground running. And I damn near glamour people already. Give me what y'all got, and it's on me, cracker. Not only will I be a badass vampire, but I'll be your badass vampire.”
For a moment, time was frozen. I was sucked into the memory of Pamela asking me to turn her, and me refusing, and her making her case to me. And then her killing herself anyway and I decided… I chose to have her by side, my companion.
My badass vampire.
I liked this Lafayette Reynolds. He lived with a sort of honesty that was rare, and he had shown himself to have the survival instincts and spirit that would take him through the ages. He interested me, and so very few men did. He also reminded me much of Pam and I could see that they would be excellent blood siblings, thick as thieves. It would be good to have youngling around, so fresh and eager...
I scented his rich blood, his untapped potential and….it all intrigued me.
Was I actually considering this, now, with my control all over and Godric missing? Was this just another way in which I was losing touch? No, best not to make any major decisions now. We could start to drink from him now, I could reconsider later, after I’d fed, and had a clearer head. He had a few good nights left in him still.
“Interesting. I'll take it under advisement,” I told him. “Pam, Chow, chowtime,” I offered and Chow grinned at my play on words, puns really were the height of humor.
Then, I leaned over and bit Lafayette.
He was absolutely delicious.
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