On the orphan of Kos, ii excerpt below from chapter 5 of my bloodborne prequel, To Fracture, To Bloom.
The Old Blood was grounding and certain, and made one feel truly at home in their body, one with their bones. The pale Blood had muddled her senses and swept her off her feet, making the world around her spin, and melt, and meld. The Blood of the orphan of Kos was another thing entirely. This was an undertow that started in the chest and pulled her apart, fibre by fibre, by tendon and muscle, and down through the marrow. The void was within her, and it was not the absence of space, but the very matter where space would dwell. Her vision sharpened rather than blurred. She saw everything so very clearly, every sensation magnified and intensified by the song of the sea that slid down her throat and flooded her insides. She held the vial out Micolash carefully with steady hands.
full chapter here.