isolt griffin

I'm more alive than I've ever been

This was, she was now certain, precisely why people sought the services of wedding planners. There were far too many plans to be made, far too many loose ends that needed tending to and so precious little time to do so in the hours beyond the light of day. How was one supposed to go about choosing a photographer anyway? How could you possibly discern the work of one florist from that of another? Every decision seemed an impossible tapestry of "ifs" and "thens", each one more frivolous than the one that had come before... a mental tango that had long ago and did still have Isolt flailing in the tumult of it all. Harley was, perhaps, her sanity's only saving grace because were it not for the humorous antics of the eccentric woman Isolt may have very well found herself sobbing pathetically in the office of Red on the Water. What a dismal scene that would have been...

It is no small wonder, truly, that the vampire queen soon finds herself nearly colliding with a stroller-toting stranger as she rounds a corner. "OH, I'm so so-," she begins, the apology evaporating upon her lips, however, as her eyes lift to find those of the stroller's pilot. "Nadya?!" The auburn-haired woman moves easily to offer a gentle and endearing embrace to the Were she had once shared so much with. The woman to whom she had offered sanctuary and advise and who, in return, had made Isolt's posthumous existence a little less horrific... a little less desolate. Intuitively do her eyes drop to the pair of adorable cherubs resting patiently (for the moment, anyway) within their cloth hammocks, the youthful vampire slowly descending to her knees.

The twins had grown so much in the time since Isolt had last seen them, but she finds that the details of their chubby little faces were just as angelic, just as heart-warming, as they had been when she had first laid eyes upon them. And, just as they had done then, Micah and Izzy herald a tidal wave of the purest joy to wash over the flame-crowned woman. A sensation that is, though, not without the wanton sting of anguish birthed by her inability to ever have children of her own. The notion of a family had always been a stow-away at the back of Isolt's mind, a consideration reserved for after her residency, after the path for her career had set itself... after she had found that person with whom she could share such unimaginable glee. And she had, hadn't she? Both of her careers were careening down their proper avenues and she had, in this afterlife, found the love that she had dreamt of so very often in the life that had come before. A cruel twist of fate, perhaps, that she could no longer fulfill the maternal desires that continued to tug insistently at her stilled heart.

But, gazing serenely into the sparkling, innocent eyes of Nadya's children Isolt could indulge considerations of what she would have been like as a mother. The smile broadens exponentially upon her features even as Micah seeks to hide amidst the blanket strewn across his lap whereas his sister leans towards the would-be stranger, a single chubby hand reaching out to grasp gently at a stray lock of silken fire as it wisps about Isolt's shoulders. "Nadya," she proclaims softly, "they're so beautiful, just like I remember them." A soft chuckle passes her lips at Izzy's delighted squealing before her eyes once again find those of her once-companion. "I'm sorry I haven't been around to visit... everything has been so hectic. How have you been?"