Blood Resonance

## Blood Palettes

* Oliver is----nothing. An overwhelming, vast, array of utter and complete void sprinkled through with random pops of emotion ranging from utter joy and happiness to rage and destruction with everything inbetween. The emotion is there but its muted for the most part, but like pop rocks on the tongue when it hits, its there and you cant deny it

* Paisley's blood is sometimes something light and sweet, almost insubstantial - like a bite of cotton candy dissolving on the tongue.

But then sometimes, sometimes at the *same* time, it's a deep, sharp ginger that warms you from the inside out even as it bites.
But then also also, it is like a sidewalk in summer after the rain. The memory of something gone.

* Sweet, of course, like your favorite confection or candy, something that you know you could have everyday but you pace yourself because you don't---no can't get sick of something this great. It makes you smile, no matter how many times you have it, and fills you with a warmth that you don't expect. Sunshine through windows on an Autumn day, pushing back the chill but also knowing full well that the crunch of leaves or the splashing of puddles is just a step away. Under that is something a little sad---your favorite drink that you can only get once a year, that fades as soon as you are done with it and always wanting more but then realize that, you can't. Though you remember what it is, and you know it'll happen again, hell you look forward to it, it makes your heart sink, just a little, when you realize you can't have it all the time.

* Mitch is....winter woods, cold biting Northwinds and frozen death in the tundra. Even being a Lupine it almost freezes on your tongue just before it hits your stomach and like a shot of 151 it wells up into your chest and burns away everything before leaving a feeling of frost on your skin
* Maeve is home. There is that immediate hit of that cold darkness all three of them have, but it is easily overpowered by something else. Something wild and free. Honeysuckle, Whiskey and Campfire Smoke. Rich, deep, and southern.
* Eoin is like 100 different really amazing tastes and experiences hitting your senses at the same time but they all want your full undivided attention. Just a complete sensory overload
* Jonathan the vague craving for something sweet that you get in the middle of the night
* Klaus would layered....first notes would be wild and free, something that makes you want to dance and party and have a good time, followed by something rich, smooth, showing the calmness underneath, a fine wine or great bourbon and finally, underneath THAT would be the fire, the hit of Moonshine or a bad habit, something that wells inside of you trying its damndest to get out but you fight agaisnt it every day
* Vadoma - Strong, fiery, something that is unchained and unchallenged by anyone. It hits your tongue with the richness of Peat, filling you with the warmth of a stone hearth fire while a thunderstorm rages outside. It's got a sense of mist and fog, with a hint of danger that lurks within, just like the Moors of her homeland. Razor sharp and deadly, it fills your sense of smell of old beer stained wood, of smoke and salty wind and of the richness of always damp grass and earth
* Victoria - To say that it is flowery would to be an oversimplification of what it is. Yes, of course there is that hint, but it's nothing like rose water. It's a little deeper than that, refined yes, but like sambuca or ouzo it's something that you don't want to really take for granted. That anise flavor, rich and licorice tasting fills you with a smile, wanting to make you get up and dance, to do something wild and crazy, but at the same time can be refined and poised. Less shot glass and more brunch toasts---though like with any brunch, too much of a good thing is---well---not as fun as you might think
* Desmond - The feeling of bone deep hurt, something old and long forgotten until of course it isn't. The throbbing background noise of an old injury that you can't seem to get rid of and that you learn to live with day in and day out---sadness, fear, the crushing depths of despair, the darkness at the bottom of an ocean, or the darkside of the moon. The void of space and utter absence of time----but also---something more---something greater than that. A power that flows through that darkness, like candleflames burning brightly, pushing back that darkness as much as it can, never going out no matter how cold the wind, or how deep the darkness gets. There is a power in those flames, and every so often the orange flames burst to life---lighting the area around them as bright as arc welders, only to go dim once more. All the while, in the background there is the unmistakable tickticktickticktick of a clock, and three lights flowing from candle to candle, adding wax, sheltering the flames from the wind and rain---one big---two small---and every time they are seen, that ache vanishes just a little, the pain goes away and a sense of hope flows into the space. Though the nights are dark, there is always light here----just need to remember it when all hope seems lost
* Alex - This one burns like the sun. There is power and rage and an utter surety that though the world is against you, that it pushes and claws it way you are the bulwark against the storm. Rich, as rich as any good whisky, the scent of old wood, the roar of an old muscle car's engine, Gunsmoke and leather, all wrapped up in day old cigarettes smoke and the scent of wildfire on the horizon. Home to some, and though it is far away, there is a sadness there, a loss of something half remembered and almost forgotten---a hint of coldness---of honeysuckle and the sound of creaking porches under foot
* Cy - Power. There is nothing more that can be said about it really. The feel of a heavy oak desk under your fingers, the brightness of a city as you look out the window of a corner office high above the world. The tapping of keys or nails on screens, the wonderful scent of plastic and new technology fresh from the case. Utter clarity of mind and the willingness to roll the hard six--to do what needs to be done--to put emotion on the burner and look at things logically---but----not all the time. Under the sense of business suits and dagger like heels is something---sensual. The skip of a heart at seeing something you adore, the wild emotion you feel at trying something new and the slow smirks in the dark between you and someone else. The taste of an Old Fashioned after a long day---the hit of the bourbon mixing with the tang of citrus. There is more than meets the eye here---one just has to be worthy enough to see the rest----or lucky
* Rhett - There is that cold darkness of the void that all Lasombra and Hecata have. It permeates everything they do, everything they touch and no matter what there is no getting away from it. The darkness there is all encompassing and deep----but in that darkness is something made of steel, a sense of worth and knowledge that you know who and what you are and there is no one else around that says otherwise. Whispers pervade that place, some of them more hostile than others, but one in particular calls out---stronger--more sure---giving you instructions and knowledge that tempers your resolve. Rich wine, dry martinis, or just straight whisky on the rocks hits your senses, something old, that weathers storms, and that with each night gets a little more aged---and like any good drink worth it's name, only gets better as time goes by
* Brandi fucking Lynn - Hot Georgia summers. Swimmin holes and dirt roads. Scent of fresh laundry on the line, of grass that needs to be mowed, popcorn and beer. Nothing fancy here, no need for it, you know what you are, know your strengths and by fuckin god there are many of them. The smell of dive bars, of greasy food that is so bad for you but also the best shit in the world---and a warmth of fur, of warm rich blood that only comes from one source and the heart achingly strong love of a mother for her child. Power to destroy the world if need be, to watch it all burn and laugh while you roast marshmallows. Blood and Chocolate. What a combination
* Tiffany - There is power in gardens. The life, the sheer magnificence of it all, the beauty. But there is also death, decay and something darker. Where life starts, there must be death and this proves that. There is a sense of life within the vitae, of something beyond it, something that causes this Rose's roots to grow deep and strong. It is a multifaced taste, with hints of lighter and darker notes---spring time in a city, richness and bold flavor mixing with something colder, winter in the middle of no where, of dark forests filled with beasts waiting to get out. Life was difficult and Unlife even more---only time will tell where it will end up---but Rose's are hardy things---can withstand a lot---it seems this one has already