All That And...: GH Preview for Week of September 9: Phantoms of An...

All That And...: GH Preview for Week of September 9: Phantoms of An...: Phantoms of Another Life The Package   D iane’s ruthless, fearless, and inarguably creative coup de gras having liber... Fell asleep on the sofa. No time to let my gargoyles and garboyles strut their scruff so I decided to steal this stellar post by Angela. Join her on Twitter. Click on ~> @Rowaentha ... and say 'hello.' It's got the word 'phantoms' in it so that makes it ok for our purposes, besides General Hospital has more street creds than Vampire Wonderland anyway and Angela's a really good writer too...... but if you WANT to dip your toes in our part a the weird and wonderful gene pool click on this ~>Vampire Wonderland's part a the weird and wonderful gene pool ... and join me on Twitter at ~>THE PLACE WHERE BILLY KRAVITZ IS ... Thank you. I'm so tired, I'm falling off the kitchen chair, right down onto the cold, gray slates...Oh, Angela can do magic too... REAL magic... 

CASTES AMONG THE WOLF FOLK... WEREWOLF HIERARCHIES ... 9/05/13

It was dark in the caves and damp and cool... a perfect retreat from the deep, thick, bayou heat. The lupine troop, obviously quite familiar with the place took their ease amid the flotsam and jetsam of human society. Some lounged on cushions. Not bed cushions... Old sofa cushions. A few played dominoes or backgammon. The young ones fished for crustaceans in a tiny rivulet racing along a back wall. Soft, yellow candles, more like sloppy mounds of wax with sputtering wicks, gave a fitful light. Shimmy Kate demurely sat down near the females. The leader saw and smiled. She noticed, but pretended not to.

Like Rip Van Winkle among the fairie folk she was. Or perhaps a Tuscan beauty snatched for the seraglio. 

Now let me pepper the tale with a more contemporary reference. Are any of our best beloveds familiar with The Thunder Cats, nineteen eighties human-feline symbiotic beings and heroes too? Well, these intelligent mammals are similar, only somewhat canine instead of feline. I don't know if they're heroes. Maybe some are. Handsome beasts and quite intriguing, but trapped in the midlands of werewolfdom.... never wholly one or the other like their 'betters,' nor completely ravenous and feral, as are some clans. They cannot hide. What they are is always apparent. And for that they are shunned. True werewolves... true shape-shifters kill them. Some languish in rich men's menageries, between rare specimens of mer-folk and mothmen.

They who came from the stars enjoy the competition. They watch and they study and they learn. Humans make such good toys. 

But the Lupiniere ( our wolfen band) have plans of their own. At least the leader, the alpha male, does. He has a theory. He wants to fix things. Lady blood... human blood will do it, in his mind anyway. And Shimmy Kate is absolutely filled with lady blood. So he slides off his throne (actually a rather ornate belle epoque dentist's chair from the Garden District) and moves in close to tantalize her. 

His females notice. They've done this before. There were other girls at other times stolen from other places. But none of them conceived. Try and try again. What else can he do. So they pin her down. One grabs her arms. One grabs a leg. A beta male moves in to grab the other. The young ones continue trolling for crawfish. Grown-up games mean little to them, though one or two do look over and giggle.

And Shimmy Kate becomes a 'handmaiden' given to another Abraham in the hope of healthy offspring.

She screamed at first. But then she stopped and made another noise...
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A CREATION STORY... WEREWOLF STYLE... LYCANTHRO-SHARK continues... 9/03/13

He built a little fire out of moss, or something that looked like moss. It smelled nice, like ambergris and musk, tinged with an unknown green scent that had a certain narcotic quality. The young ones fell asleep. His females quietly retreated back into the shadows and watched. There were other males in the lodge, but they were obviously betas, furtive beasts, just as imposing as their leader, though of quite different dispositions.... Three males... Two females... Maybe five or six children. All with the same gray pelts.

The human female, the one called Shimmy Kate, studied them, as she sat hunched against the rough, thatch, igloo-like wall. A surreal scene, as might have played out in paleolithic times, save all of the tribesmen were werewolves. 

Their prisoner/guest stared at the tiny fire, seemingly hypnotized by the orange glow. And the 'king' studied her. She was right. He knew it. She was right. All was quiet. One or two of the young ones stirred as they slept, but that was it. And then the 'king' began to speak. He sat where he was and he spoke. 

He said - We have souls. We have hearts. We know pain. Think not that we are monsters. Fear not for your life. Are you scared?...... The one called Shimmy Kate shook her head, for she was not scared. Perhaps it was the slowly burning narcotic herb, or maybe just the quiet peace about her, but she was not. He nodded and went on - They came from a different place and they changed us, taking essence of man and essence of beast. And we are still a new thing, for that was only ten generations past. Frenchman we were and Creoles and Spaniards.... those you call 'Indians' too. The settlement on the river was new then, filled with long, low dwellings and shuttered windows to keep out the heat. Dark skinned captives from a strange, exotic place spoke of 'old gods,' and so we learned the voo-doo. Spirits, rather curious spirits came to watch. They sailed in ghostly orbs... in ships made of light. We asked questions. Occasionally they answered. But we were clay to them, the same as Adam and so they made new things. Don't ask me how they did it. Such alchemy I do not know. They took different things, alien things. They worked miracles. And mothers brought forth wolflings. And she-wolves brought forth men..... One of the females began to moan and keen, obviously remembering an old sadness. He crawled over to comfort her and she kissed him. Shimmy Kate found her voice and said - Please, I want to leave.... Her host said - And how will you elude the bloodhounds? They who have guns lead them and they already come this way....... H-how do you know that? - she asked. The wolfman simply sniffed the air and smiled.

They left with the first light of dawn, silently snaking through the bayou toward another place, deep within a cave, beyond a little hidden waterfall, where trackers could not find them. And Shimmy Kate went with them, a lost, skinny white girl amid a stream of gray.

Breeding stock. That's what she was. Breeding stock. But she didn't know that yet...
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A 'Tainted' Houma Chief Tells Shimmy Kate Some Things... LYCANTHRO-SHARK... 9/03/13

She fainted from the ordeal, but her rescuer trudged on, splashing through the black, bayou water with Shimmy Kate thrown over his shoulder like a sack a grits. Alligators respectfully swam away. Cotton Mouths and rattlers did the same. Ratty little creatures dragged their offspring deep into damp, muddy dens lest they offend the passing of such a wondrous being.

From time to time small excretions of swamp gas burped up from below the thick, greasy ooze ignited with a cool, ghostly light, revealing strange, exotic beasties trembling in the shadows. Night in this verdant wilderness is a special thing. And the Houma Indians knew it's name. They had outposts there for trapping muskrats and stealing turtle eggs and talking to spirits. 

He made for a beaver dam... a large beaver dam spanning a small, sluggish stream. But no rodent, however grand built this thing, for the lodge was human made. Well, partly human. The personage toting Shimmy Kate crouched low and went in, throwing her down onto a nest-like mound, made from dried, sweet grass and gardenia petals. Some children played about the place, nocturnal youngsters, partly French, partly Cajun, partly Indian and... partly something else. Light, such as it was, came from small, luminescent rocks scattered 'round like spoor. Lupiniere they were. A Cajun term meaning 'wolf-like.' Unlike other true werewolves they could linger in the borderlands between the species. Tall, well-formed folk with strong bodies covered in short, gray, coarse, wavy hair. Ears were different too. High up on the head and rather dog-like. Some had foxy tails. Some didn't. But I 'spects they were bitten off. Faces were strongly human, though, with just the slightest hint of muzzle.... deep set eyes and teeth like fangs. Some in the city, deep within the old French Quarter knew their names. Voo Doo gods they were. Goddesses too..... But shhh.... Their king, or leader, or whatever he was woke up, rousing himself from another nest. And he approached the Shimmy Kate thing with a feral curiosity, as he dropped to all fours and began to sniff her body.

She stirred. It tickled. She opened her eyes and gasped. He was so close... eye to eye... She could taste the wild peccary on his breath. He smiled and ran his claw-like fingers down her belly, mumbling something in a low, mysterious jargon. And that night, just before dawn, this 'tainted' Houma chief whispered secrets of a time when Frenchmen, Indians and wolves became one.

His females, two sleek, jealous things, watched silently from the corners. And the young ones yelped and giggled at the drama of it all.... squealing with delight when he stopped to lick her skin....
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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: The House on Hoxton Street.. 2/21/13 after THE REV...

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: The House on Hoxton Street.. 2/21/13 after THE REV...: Many of the properties along the way have been modernized and are essentially the same as similar residences in say Chicago or Washington. ... I got to admit... this was a good post. If you like wizardry and magic and old baronial houses, poke around here... Scroll up. Scroll down in London Towne.
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LOVE WITH THE PROPER WOLFMAN... 9/01/13 .. LYCANTHRO-SHARK

Tongue rough., Tongue strong. Lick her up real good. Shimmy Kate go - Oh! Oh! Oh!...  Then she remember.... Ain't got no bloomers. Pulled 'em off 'cause they wet. Start kickin' her feet and gone - Eee! Eee! Eee! But that just put her legs up in the air and thing start lickin' her butt. Not the whole thing. Just part of it..... Fat part.... Round part.... Juicy part.  She feel teeth, big sharp wet ones. Thing nip her ass. Nip it again. Nip it whole lot a time. No bites. Just nips. She giggle. Shimmy Kate go - Tee-hee-hee... 'cause it tickle. Two hearbeats later it stop. She gasp. She think maybe it go 'way.... She wait. Silence. Nothing... She reach out, thrusting her naked arms into the dark. But they find only mosquitoes. So the exotic dancer/alligator wrestler gets up, picks a direction and moves off, feeling her way through the black, forest night.

Sticky, fibrous tendrils brush her face, her neck, her arms. She shudders. Her mind draws pictures in the dark. Spiders... Big ones, with coarse, stiff hairs and fat, weighty abdomens. All around her. They're all around her. A thick network of cloying filaments grab hold of her face, her mouth, her legs, her ears, even her tongue. She gags. She gasps. She screams. Dried, dead things suspended in the nightmare scrape against her body, the remnants of past arachnid feedings.... Feathers... Tiny bones... cold, naked, snakelike, leathery tails... Hairy pelts.... Gristle.

Something moves closer. She feels the tension play across the web from all directions, as hungry, mindless beings carefully move in for the kill. She screams. She screams again. Not since Fay Wray first saw Kong has there been such a scream. And the very bowels of the swampland echo with her terror, as she waits for the torture to begin...

But a howl fills the night and everything stops, as even the insects pay heed. Strong arms wrap around her rib-cage. Hot breath bathes her trembling skin, as a huge, lupine presence tears Shimmy Kate from the web and carries her off  toward another, quite different den.....
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300: Rise of an Empire Trailer 2013 Official Teaser - 2014 Movie [HD] ... PC trouble tonight. No time to blog..thought you'd like this

The ether was troublesome this dark time. Forced to spend hours with digital necromancers. It seems their ministrations are successful. Please know that you are most welcome to wander our Vampire Wonderland hall of records. More than 1,200 scrolls (ok, ok..I mean posts) await your perusal. Simply click on~> THE ANCIENT SCROLLS ... or communicate with our ESTEEMED PANEL (me and everyone else on the timeline) by clicking on ~>ESTEEMED PANEL ..... Favor us with a COMMENT..... Now I must sublimate back into the ether...... (woo... woo... WHOOSH!... <I am gone>)