Giadesstrin - The Devil Makes Us Sin

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I’m pround of my manip! 

Gia's brows arched at the thought of that. "I think I'd hate to be in any situation where our only hope is Kol, to be honest," she admitted, honestly. "Because by virtue of that fact, I would probably already be long dead. I guess that's one of the advantages to being 900 years old," she mused. "It's pretty hard to tell you not to do whatever you want to do." Gia tiled her head softly as Vera praised Kol, her chocolate curls brushing across her shoulders, eyes twinkling. She knew what that could be like, she realized - that kind of trust and understanding of another person. The bond of Maker and Progeny might be lost on her, but love was not and, smiling to herself, she was proud of the fact. As they left Fangtasia as one, she turned to Vera. Their relationship was confusing to her on another level, as well. Sure, they had the open relationship that Everett and Gia had had for a time, but they'd never moved beyond that stage. Maybe it was the boredom of centuries, but it still struck Gia as odd. Proportionally, Gia and Everett had had hardly any time together at all and they were already exclusive. Not that Gia was judging them - she wasn't the sort of person to go there - but she just wondered about the mechanics of it. And despite that, Gia felt, they were pretty lucky. You saw so many vampires who appeared so very lonely. It was a real blessing, she was sure, to have each other. "He seems pretty in love with you...Not that anyone could ever blame him," she added with a large wink. "It must be good to know you've got someone to travel all time with."

Head Bitch In Bar | Gia & Vera

Sacrilege | Gia & Talia

Gia Desstrin had had quite a life journey, but it paled in comparison to that of Talia Kenway.  Talia had done, in most ways, all the things Gia had done: she'd become something inhuman, she'd turned away from her home, she'd made a new one without any of the people she'd once known.  That part of the story, at least, was familiar.  But Gia was only twenty-five and Talia had a few (or a hundred) bonus years tacked onto that number in which to cram adventures.

Naturally, Gia knew nothing of the vampire.  Night was creeping up on Oxford and Gia was concentrating more keenly on not slipping, giving the freak snow storm that had hit Oxford, than on the scent of vampire coming from down the lane.  There had been a time, granted, when running into a vampire in Oxford had been a relatively rare occurrence, but that had been before the influx of the undead, several months back.  Now, Gia hardly gave it a second thought - or, more importantly, tried not to think about it, at all. 

It had been her choice, getting on the V.  She could have resisted, like a number of the older wolves had done - like Everett had done - but she'd been weak and all she'd really wanted was to belong again.  She hadn't wanted to run any further than Oxford and, though she wished she'd never tried the V, she didn't regret staying.  Notwithstanding, even now she sometimes had trouble dealing with vampires.  She was good about reminding herself of their personhood, taking a deep breath, and pushing away the overwhelming desire and, so far, that had been enough.  She prayed it always would be: werewolves who had tried V were being hunted, these days.  The last thing she needed was to break down and give it a taste.  She knew how horribly she'd die, as a result, if she did.  Besides, no one deserved that.  Not even a vampire.

As she stepped inside, and peeled off her snow-wet jacket, she was confronted with the scent of the undead.  Scrunching up her nose, she rubbed it and concentrated hard on the click of her shoes as she walked.  She didn't need to think about vampire too much.