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 Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 6:22 pm
 certThis journal is private. Unless you have RaiMidori's permission, you may not post here. Summoner Marilene Porter Demon Rakshasa Reason To protect the one she loves Date of Summoning 6 August 2008
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:35 am
In my dream, there was pain. Maybe that was what started it all, that one day I woke up and realized there was something else where my heart should have been beating. From there on, the streets were quieter, the drawl of the long afternoons, everything that should have been there, but wasn’t, drove me into a gentle madness.
In my dream, there was pain. But there was also blood and reason and justice.
There was so much blood that somewhere along the line I realized I would never get the stains off my fingers.
It was the scariest thing I had ever seen happen to a human being.
And I was doing it to myself.
But then, under all of that insanity lay something I had never dreamt to be so powerful. Under all of it, I was still in love.
So maybe it was the pain, maybe it was the love, but once I took the first step, the rock had already started crumbling underneath my feet.
Why do I call it my dream?
Two reasons.
First, because everything was something I was either reluctant to do, but did, or something I wanted with my whole life to do, but never did. I was always in between with the fog in my eyes, and then where there was only one purpose, it was like everything else disappeared, including myself.
It could have been a dream, for all I felt.
And second, because if I had called it real life, my story would be too sad to tell.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:36 am
The seeds have been sown, it is inevitable...-- oo updates
-- oo rakshasa
-- oo contract
-- oo marilene
-- oo current rps
-- oo relationships
-- oo reason
-- oo reserved
-- oo credits
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:37 am
When you know the flowers have no need to bloom...September 28, 2008- Finally setting up journal. Looking towards filling in needed sections, etc.
Status: Working. Not open for RP or the like quite yet.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:38 am
I am forever going to carry this night flower...
In Hindu or Buddhist mythology, a Rakshasa is an unrighteous spirit that is rumoured to have been born from Brahma's foot. They are man-eaters, feeding on human flesh and spoiled food. Legend tells that many Rakshasas were very wicked humans reincarnated. The demon itself is infamous for disturbing sacrifices, desecrating graves, harassing priests, possessing human beings. They hold the power to shape-shift, cast illusion and perform magic.
Usually unsuccessful with conventional weapons, the common Rakshasa uses magic and illusions to deal with any enemies, and shapeshift into many common forms. They can appear as any type of human, and are most commonly sighted at the height of slaughter on a battlefield to 'reap their share' of the bloodshed.
Currently, Rakshasa has not been summoned.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:38 am
And when terror rears his ugly head, your blood will be enough...Marilene's terms of the contract are as follows.
She has absolute control over Rakshasa's actions. What she says, the demons abides by. However, when there are no standing orders, Rakshasa is free to do whatever it wants, on the condition that it is not discovered and reveals no information nor connection towards her. Rakshasa is to be hidden or illusionized, either in the form of a human or casting masking spells at all times, other than during killings. Rakshasa has free reigns on the method of murder, unless ordered otherwise.
In return, Rakshasa has full rights to the first son of each of Marilene's descending generations, be it for consumption, possession or otherwise. The contract goes on even after Marilene's death, for as long as the bloodline stays intact.
There will be no exceptions.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:39 am
Who's the real demon?Name: Marilène 'Lainey' Porter
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Ethnicity: French-American
Sexuality: Straight
Status: Single
Appearance: Lainey usually keeps her semi-long straight, dark chocolate hair hanging down her back, held with nothing but the wind and gravity. Her stern chin gives her a bit of a fierce expression, and her pale skin looks almost to the point of being unhealthy. Her eyes are a light brown and usually half-lidded in contemplation or sleepiness. Her carriage is smooth and highly refined, as if she belongs to royalty. She detests wearing bright colors and is usually clad in something very quiet and unattentionworthy.
Family: She seems to have severed all ties with them after she began to pursue a career as a painter, to the chagrin of her parents. She went against their wills and earned enough money for a flight from France to her current residence at a young age, and has not contacted them since.
Personality: A quiet dreamer of sorts, Lainey was never one for loud noises or surprises. She prefers to just drift through her life and let what happens, happen but in her eccentricity she has developed a sense of detachment towards anyone that is not extremely close to her. Slowly, with the years of her solitude piling up, she became more and more subconsciously lonely and began sending out signals. She developed a refined sense of morbidity and being with her is at once overloading and frightening, simply of the almost perfect balance between elegance and intemperance. She, herself, has a very low regard for her personal worth, but the people around her enjoy her company for her wit and uplifting, albeit artificial, cheerfulness.
Loves: Painting, psychology, maple trees, blood (as a fascination), lying, the night.
Dislikes: Law, business, bright lights, sudden noises, cheap alcohol/cigarettes, hospitals.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:40 am
But love is another kind of chain, only invisible, stronger...Current RPs:
None.
Completed RPs:
None.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:41 am
When I see that you and I are not so different...Lainey's opinion.
Rakshasa's opinion.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:41 am
A small bout of silence came over her......as she pondered the question, but her answer came strong and true with a sort of pride that shone in her hard edged chocolate eyes as she spoke.
“In my first years of high school, I was rather popular with the masses. It was a bit of an ego-booster for me at the time, as things at home weren’t going very well, and it was something that I looked forward to every day, being earnestly loved by many people while family life at home was rather… ‘unstable’, shall we say.”
“My father and mother were both very successful people, my late father being a successful lawyer, and my mother a now-widowed medical specialist working for the neighboring hospital. At the time, they were pushing me to go into an academic field, like engineering, while I strived to be an artist. While almost all of my relatives disapproved of this, my companions at school would always be right behind me, cheering on my dreams with every small step I took.”
At this comment, she holds a small, nostalgic smile, but a dusty sheen covers her eyes, hinting at the tragedy floating below in her heart. Taking a deep breath she continues, her voice shaking almost undetectably into the expanse,
“By the time I had reached my last year in high school, I had gotten some offers for scholarships from the neighboring art colleges and even a university a few cities down, with nearly no effort on my part. My art was far reaching due to the word that spread fast through the city of my talent, and that time was a blissful part of my life that I sometimes wish I could return to. However, things were not to stay that way.”
“A while into the summer that followed, I had decided to hold a bit of display of my paintings at the local gallery downtown, and they were deemed very popular by the gallery master. By that time I was flooded with even more scholarships. So, to the chagrin of my parents and the cheers of my friends, I ended up deciding on the school I was to be attending. A short week after, all the art I had put up in the gallery appeared to be slashed with a pocket knife or maimed in some way, and bits of the canvases were littered all over the floor. It was a horrible crime, and only my paintings were ever affected.”
With a sigh, she adjusts her skirt around her and stares uncertainly at the one she’s speaking to. There is an air of hesitancy that pulls at her solemn voice, but she continues, braving the waves of fright that stir at her heart.
“I planned to do some investigation, but he came out and admitted it straight off- he was a delinquent of sorts,” she laughed bitterly, avoiding the gaze of the listener and staring at the ceiling with a guilty fascination.
“He could have been a model, though, with his slim build and, oh, those eyes… they held the entire world in their green depths, I found myself lost in them…”
Trailing off, she blinks before continuing, reaching up to brush a tear from her eye before realizing they are dry as the desert. Setting her jaw, she pushes on, her voice firmer, harder,
“I shouldn’t have fallen in love with him. That I know, it is something I’ve always regretted doing. But I could have turned back- it was his fault, really, that he said those tender things to me, apologized sweetly for harming my paintings, and when I asked about them, all he said was that ‘he had a score to settle’. And that was all it ever took for me to forgive him. His kisses, oh, those kisses were as warm as the summer winds that never came into our town, his touch was like the brush of butterflies, he was everything I would ever need, or so I thought. I was young and a fool, and he was quite the temptation, skilled in the deadliest of ways.”
She pauses here, her eyes snapping back to reality, the hints of the earlier smile completely gone. Instead, her lips are set in a firm line, a half-grimace of sorts. There is no hint of embarrassment in her face, but her pupils tell the real truth. She takes another breath, looks away.
“You can find him now on the television all the time, his face in billboard ads or newspapers. He is and was a drug dealer, but he’s really after the people. He’s gone psychotic, killed a few people by accident, murdered a few others. I have reason to believe he held a grudge against my father for something and might have been behind his ‘accidental death’, but regardless of all of these factors, there is someone beneath that twisted form that I am still in love with. He is the one that I will never give up on, and regardless of the way he left me without a word, the emptiness behind his words…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she stands up from her sitting place, clears her throat politely, her lips trembling with the weight of her own sentiments, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Her voice rumbles deeply and meaningfully as she finishes her miniature story, a bit of a psychotic laugh adorning the end of her sentences.
“This Rakshasa will be my one-way ticket to hell, I’m sure it will be. But I will use it to get rid of everyone who even considers touching my love- policemen, detectives, even the witnesses of his crimes. I’ll be vigilant and no one will catch me if I have the power of this mystical being. I’ll be strong, just like he was to me, and prove my worth to love him.”
A dry chuckle escapes her throat.
“Whoever he was, whatever we did, it’s all in the past, now. I know what I need to do for him, and I’m willing to give up my everything.”
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:42 am
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:43 am
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:44 am
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:45 am
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2008 10:45 am
For every garden starts with the ink you pour...Daemonolgie: Chaipon, Romantic Wishes and Koko Tokei
Journal Content: RaiMidori
Magnolia Lyrics: The Hush Sound
Art: Chaipon
Banners and Graphics: RaiMidori
Not to be stolen, altered or used in any way without express permission. 
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