I came across this art for a Vampire MMO (read: video game) called Shadow’s Kiss, which admittedly sounds interesting. Believe me when I say Vampires should only meet on social media… because “reasons.” But this image makes me cringe — hear me out on this.
The crowned and corseted brunette with the opera gloves and thigh-highs; the blonde and blue-eyed blood doll worshiping at her feet desperate to be “kissed”; the goateed and coiffed confidant standing close — and all of them noticing you noticing them. Hell, event the gold and gem-encrusted skull throne is ridiculous. Image, image, image — no reasonably intelligent creature buys any of this, right? This is such a cliché and overdone idea that the subjects might as well be sparkling and swaying to looped trance music.
Why would anyone want to become any of these characters? How much court intrigue could justify it? Even “True Blood” character Eric Northman (read: still yummy) hated doing the whole bit at Fangtasia precisely because it’s ridiculous. And if you needed any fictional proof of vampire-court pointlessness, look no further than the ineffectiveness of Underworld. There’s no Italian Inquisitor Council and no secret cabal of hibernating immortals awakened whenever “Chuck the Vamp” steps out of line to deal with his Chuckiness.
I hope the game turns out to be cool, but let’s step into modern times and away from the Mushroom Ring Fairy Tale Demonic Vampire Court thing, okay?
Addendum: I should probably clarify my viewpoints. My father is a self-made man; he didn’t give me everything I wanted growing up and he worked hard so he could send me to college. He kept bettering himself even with setbacks, but while he was tough on me, he also had a few thoughts on “royalty.” I was three and had no memory of when Queen Elizabeth II visited America, but I do remember Princess Diana (no, not Wonder Woman) and her passing when I was almost nine.
Elizabeth served in the armed forces as a truck mechanic, and Diana wanted to be as far away from thrones and courts as she could get. I knew girls my age who wanted to be Disney princesses — and that’s okay — but I preferred a princess with quotes like, “Carry out a random act of kindness, with no expectation of reward, safe in the knowledge that one day someone might do the same for you.” Selfless and in service of others, not ruling over them and have them do for you.
While this Vampire Court image is a very pretty fantasy picture, nothing about it feels selfless or serving: it’s threatening. It looks like a gathering of wolves waiting for sheep to be served to them, and I cannot articulate just how much that pisses me off. How do I know? Look at the blue-eyed blood doll. If the courtesans were in any way benevolent, she wouldn’t be tethered to her mistress for snacking while looking wronged for it. They’re flaunting themselves and will likely be destroyed for it — not exactly the best way to plan for your immortality.
Trust me — I’m a Vampire.
Take your power seriously. Keep each other safe. Be indomitable.
~ Janiss
Email janiss.connelly@cedarcrestsanctum.com
Twitter @JanissConnelly
Instagram @janiss.connelly
Facebook @JanissConnelly
Tumblr janissconnelly.tumblr.com
Google+ JanissConnelly
Discus @justjaniss

“Preacher” is one of them. If you’re not familiar with this AMC show — spoiler! — Cassidy’s a Vampire but not the main character. While we’re shown he’s capable of blood-raging violence, most of the time he just wants to be left alone with his substance abuse. He’s a predator who avoids killing because of both the complications it brings — bodies don’t hide themselves — as a well as personal code of who deserves his wrath.
My friend Nancy told me about le paradoxe, which is exactly what you think it is: “the paradox.” I’m not sure why it’s pronounced with a French accent, but it’s the idea that a solar eclipse bends one of our Vampire rules: the need to be in the ground during the daytime.
This said, I am planning accordingly… to “Ladyhawke” it but without all that priest-killing. I’ll be on the rooftop of Cedarcrest Sanctum next to my belfry — aka my lunarium — and I already have a beach lounge chair angled for optimal viewing. I’m thinking flip-flops and a bikini, the red two-piece I never get to wear anymore.
The Vampires I know were made, not born. We are not a race. Some sought it, some accepted it, and some had it inflicted upon them. It can’t be undone, but we can choose what we do with it.
Everyone needs help from time to time, whether it’s having a thorn removed from a paw or satisfying the thirst of an immortal. There’s always a risk, of course; every situation and individual are different, just like Vampires or lions.
But why sex? We can’t procreate to create half-undead babies no matter what popular fiction suggests: animated dead bodies can’t conceive… but we CAN feel. All of our senses are heightened and we can become inexplicably aroused. Living blood is some of it — okay, most of it — but even without the thirst, we crave touch, an intimate familiarity with someone other than ourselves to quench a different thirst.
I hate myself for daydreaming about my taloned hands around their throat, enjoying their pointless struggling viewed through my empty eyes, and smiling at their raspy protests choked short before forming discernible words.
Centuries ago, villagers once lived their entire lives in terror that a bloodsucking corpse would enter their homes at night to steal their children. It’s not that Vampires couldn’t — no invitation needed — it’s that we choose not to. Destroying one another is always a missed opportunity for any future benefit.
Whether you believe in your elected leaders or not, whether your candidate got in or not, the Vampire Vote just doesn’t carry any weight unless you’re bringing ire and grief to our doorstep — in which case, there won’t be any emergency actions or filed appeals, but it also won’t go any further than the foolish individuals who knock on the crypt door.
The world looks renewed after a snowfall. With ice and snow covering everything, color and individual details merge into monochromatic shades and textures, becoming something different — perhaps something more. Everything familiar and unique becomes joined in single theme. The skies turn gray, a blanket over the stars and heavens.