"You were right to call me, Mr. Talbot. I enjoy a good hunt, but this is like a tigress being required to track down mice in a field full of holes. you may have just made some of that tracking easier, and were right to let me know of this man's danger to the masquerade. Hold him there. Either I or someone else will be there as soon as possible. I don't suppose you have progressed far enough where you can wipe memory?"
"I am afraid I have not. I can command him to never speak of what he saw again, but it is beyond my grasp to tear the memory from his mind. I will keep him here and occupied until you or your designee arrive."
"Drank it before I got here," Paolo said, smiling nervously and with a slight haggard look.
"Can't say I blame you given how good they are," Contessa smiles, "Please, have a seat."
Daphne does not look completely convinced but Contessa is. Besides, why would someone lie about that with two women looking out for each other in case anything hinky was tried?
He handed over the coffees, Daphne's first, with a slight air of formality. "Your drink, madame."
Again the push,and while Daphne is stubborn, she has the cup to her lips and drinking it even before she realizes it. Slowly the second draught worms its way into her system. Paolo has learned the stages thanks to his master. With the second drop, Daphne will, within a very short time, find Paolo a very important figure in her life. She may find herself driven to do things that please him or seek his attention. And yes, best of all, he'll find it easier to convince her of things.
Hail to the power of the blood of Lasombra.
The para legal /lawyer in training enjoys.
"And yours, madame," he handed the other one to Contessa. "I'm really sorry, but I can't stay long tonight. There's a problem at home have to see about. Nothing to worry yourselves over. I couldn't just vanish on you and I did promise coffee."
Contessa takees hers without a fuss, "I'm sorry you can't stay, longer. Sure you don't want to talk about your troubles?" Then she drinks.
And once more makes a sound that sounds like borderline-soft porn. The lovely woman of Mediterranean descent seems to positively quiver for a moment, as if the blood were working through her very rapidly indeed.
Daphne rolls her eyes, but also blushes a bit herself. It's clear this is not Contessa's typical behavior.
"Are you both holding up?" Paolo asked gently, mostly to Contessa.
"I'm fine. I feel so much better now that you're here, Paolo. You've been wonderful, really, but I am wondering when it will be safe for me to go out and about more openly? Are you okay? You seem so haggard. And, news about Hank?" She seems embarrassed that her fiance is an after thought. "If he's gone, or shown up again, or...if he's gone." she looks troubled but not tearful, but mostly she focuses on Paolo's face.
Indeed, she's even lounging a bit now on the sofa, her legs out in away that would catch some men's attention.
This , of course, would not work on Paolo in his living days, and it doesn't work now. But she is attractive to those interested in women and that, his lasombra blood and training tell him, is something to take into account as he plots.
But why IS she taking to the blood so well?
And wistfully, Paolo may think of Jacob. Damn, there always seems to be something coming up.
And his phone rings! For a moment he expects Jacob, then realizes it's more likely Betty or his father, but no, it's neither.
"Looks like you're busy already," Daphne says as she finds herself also staring at the rather homely looking man in a new light.
Will take another shot before he gets to the building and then reload.
He then will move to the stairwell that the malk must climb and shoot him again as he rounds the corner
sneaky stuff
AWESOME POWER
A fiend knows his territory, true. Fight smart not hard , also good advice. So Marcus tries to maintain his distance.
He fires, and the attacking creature burns! instead of screaming as he should, this chief seems to be totally calm through the pain. Marcus withdraws further, losing sight of his quarry to get distance from him and then realizes two things.
He only has one flare charge left.
His quarry is no longer visible.
There is a smell of burnt dead flesh, but he doesn't see his prey/attacker. Only a burning apron and shirt that has been discarded.
"I am afraid I have not. I can command him to never speak of what he saw again, but it is beyond my grasp to tear the memory from his mind. I will keep him here and occupied until you or your designee arrive."
"Someone will be there as quickly as possible. They'll have the capacity. And Mr. Talbot, do be cautious of your own club. More than one who considers themselves versed in these things believe these lesser attacks are distraction for a bigger prize. As you are a shadow weaver, you might be a prime target for the Sabbat, Lasombra or no... " a pause and shot gun blast, "And I have to go."
She hangs up on him, though, admittedly, phone etiquette is not a priority right now.
Minutes pass.
About twenty later, the door opens and Gaetano of Palermo enters.
The Lasombra Antitribu is dressed very stylishly even for a man who is helping with a crisis. It's not the style favored here, but he does carry himself well, and his eyes appraise the room until they fall onto Damien, "Mr. Talbot. I'm sent here by a mutual acquaintance to help with a small matter of someone's nerves."
Arthur sighs, Wonderful, now they've made it a bit more personal. A pity I am not more emotional about such things. Loa Joe...
"Rachel, Michael. How lovely to meet you both. Come, let's have a chat before your next meal, I fear there are a few things Loa Joe did not teach you that must be addressed".
He motions for them to follow him into a copse of woods so as to cover the Masquerade even if only with a fig leaf.
To the Imp he whispers, "I shall do my best to lead them into the copse of trees behind us that Mortals may not see the ensuing combat. I will take the woman, you the man surreptitiously with that stake. My powers should slow him down a bit for you..."
He looks relieved as she tells him its okay, then thinks, "Well, it's not your best or my personal favorite, but its really really good, and I think the fact that you got that good on a stretch out of nowwhere like that outside of your usual wheel house makes it that much more impressive. I know others who will go crazy for it. Maybe you should try a few other twists or takes your not normally into and put it out like a sampler medley of alternative you? See how it flies? I think this shows a growing confidence."
Alyson thinks on it for a bit:"Actually, not a bad idea. I mean, I kind of always just went with the flow, worked with the melody that was...I never really tried to bend the song to fit what I wanted to do, force it into a pattern of my own design. Maybe my true calling is to wear a cowgirl outfit, change my artists name to Cherlene and go for Country Music?", she laughs it off, then continues:"Doubtful, but it would make sense to try and learn more techniques to interact with the fugue, regardless, so it's good advice you gave! Thanks you!"
Sounds of police sirens abound, like tonight is really busy for them.
But nothing stops her from getting to work. She almost immediately notices Charlene who gives her a look of intense, well, curiosity?
Alyson gets off her Scooter and secures it, then approaches Charlene...of course, she had no way of knowing, but she did have a pretty good idea about what would come next. Speaking up first would allow her some iniative, maybe? "Hi, Charlie...glad to see you well." - and the initiative was gone...Alyson was overthinking things, considering what to say...and ended up not saying anything after the greeting. Oh well, I'll learn what she thinks, first, then...
Arthur sighs, Wonderful, now they've made it a bit more personal. A pity I am not more emotional about such things. Loa Joe...
Indeed, this, might sting a little. he only has so many blood kin, and here they've embraced one.
Now that he is closer, Arthur notices something, a burn mark on that otherwise lovely shoulder of his distant relation. It looks, for all the world, like four broken pieces of a cross!
And the image of a young ghost comes to mind.
This is the pack symbol.
"Rachel, Michael. How lovely to meet you both. Come, let's have a chat before your next meal, I fear there are a few things Loa Joe did not teach you that must be addressed".
Rachel shakes her head, "I won't let you make me human again. I won't let you make me weak." a smile, "We will prove ourselves to be worthy of this. Do you know how good they taste? of course you do. It's really wonderful."
Micheal doesn't seem as focused despite having noticed them, "Are you a Cammie? We're..we're supposed to kill Cammies."
He motions for them to follow him into a copse of woods so as to cover the Masquerade even if only with a fig leaf.To the Imp he whispers, "I shall do my best to lead them into the copse of trees behind us that Mortals may not see the ensuing combat. I will take the woman, you the man surreptitiously with that stake. My powers should slow him down a bit for you..."
A grunt from the shadows.
Alyson thinks on it for a bit:"Actually, not a bad idea. I mean, I kind of always just went with the flow, worked with the melody that was...I never really tried to bend the song to fit what I wanted to do, force it into a pattern of my own design. Maybe my true calling is to wear a cowgirl outfit, change my artists name to Cherlene and go for Country Music?", she laughs it off, then continues:"Doubtful, but it would make sense to try and learn more techniques to interact with the fugue, regardless, so it's good advice you gave! Thanks you!"
"Great, now I'm going to have that image in my head of you in a cowgirl outfit... yep, gonna need a cold shower." A smile, "You're welcome."
Alyson gets off her Scooter and secures it, then approaches Charlene...of course, she had no way of knowing, but she did have a pretty good idea about what would come next. Speaking up first would allow her some initiative, maybe? "Hi, Charlie...glad to see you well." - and the initiative was gone...Alyson was over-thinking things, considering what to say...and ended up not saying anything after the greeting. Oh well, I'll learn what she thinks, first, then...
"Hi, Charlie? Wow," Charlene says, "I don't know whether to hug you or scream witch and run away. You saw the news right? You told me that going to Lakeside was a bad idea but weren't sure why, and then..thanks to your delay, I'm not dead in a gas explosion. You saved me, and my date. And you're like 'hi charlie'" She settles for the hug "How did you know?"
Contessa takees hers without a fuss, "I'm sorry you can't stay, longer. Sure you don't want to talk about your troubles?" Then she drinks.
And once more makes a sound that sounds like borderline-soft porn. The lovely woman of Mediterranean descent seems to positively quiver for a moment, as if the blood were working through her very rapidly indeed.
Daphne rolls her eyes, but also blushes a bit herself. It's clear this is not Contessa's typical behavior.
Paolo made himself not smile. It was funny, and quite satisfying, but nothing was finished yet.
"I'm fine. I feel so much better now that you're here, Paolo. You've been wonderful, really, but I am wondering when it will be safe for me to go out and about more openly? Are you okay? You seem so haggard. And, news about Hank?" She seems embarrassed that her fiance is an after thought. "If he's gone, or shown up again, or...if he's gone." she looks troubled but not tearful, but mostly she focuses on Paolo's face.
"I haven't found out anything new yet, but I'm working on it. No one's seen him in..." Paolo shrugged sadly. It would have been convenient to question him further. "Since I did. If everything goes well, I should have a firm answer on when you can go home tomorrow night. I know this is a burden for both of you and I don't want to prolong it."
"As for me? There's been a fire at my house. No one's hurt. Everything's insured and can be replaced. I'm lucky that I had a very loud alarm system. That's all." Paolo started to think about it seriously, as more than a practical problem, and quickly pulled away from that. "I should get going. Lots of stuff to take care of. Just...please don't worry about this for my sake."
"Hi, Charlie? Wow," Charlene says, "I don't know whether to hug you or scream witch and run away. You saw the news right? You told me that going to Lakeside was a bad idea but weren't sure why, and then..thanks to your delay, I'm not dead in a gas explosion. You saved me, and my date. And you're like 'hi charlie'" She settles for the hug "How did you know?"
Alyson avoid eye contact:"Well, I told you. But it's not an explanation people like, these days. God has sent me a vision. A warning. No details, just that a terrible fate would befall you if you went there. And it was true. Very seldom, I get those premonitions...and as a child, I had enough of that 'witch'-calling stuff, so I settled on that reluctant 'Hi, Charlie' because I was afraid you'd think I'm a freak or something...on that topic, I'd appreciate if we stick with the hugs! Also, you are both welcome to go to church with me on sunday for the evening mass. Don't worry, I won't sign you up for anything, but I think a short prayer and saying thanks to him would be in order." Alyson points skyward, smiling, as Charlene releases her hug.
"I haven't found out anything new yet, but I'm working on it. No one's seen him in..." Paolo shrugged sadly. It would have been convenient to question him further. "Since I did. If everything goes well, I should have a firm answer on when you can go home tomorrow night. I know this is a burden for both of you and I don't want to prolong it."
"Isn't he sweet, Daphne?" Contessa looks to Daphne, then back at Paolo, nodding "Thank you so much. Just having a date where more information may come in is such a god send."
"Oh yeah, he's ..sweet," Daphne admires, then blinks as if to ask herself what's wrong with her? But she's not resisting so much as just confused by it, "And taking care of Contessa has been no trouble."
"As for me? There's been a fire at my house. No one's hurt. Everything's insured and can be replaced. I'm lucky that I had a very loud alarm system. That's all." Paolo started to think about it seriously, as more than a practical problem, and quickly pulled away from that. "I should get going. Lots of stuff to take care of. Just...please don't worry about this for my sake."
"Maybe you should stay here with us?" Contessa offers not really thinking on what that might sound like or that this isn't her place. She just waant to help.
Paolo's phone rings again
Alyson avoid eye contact:"Well, I told you. But it's not an explanation people like, these days. God has sent me a vision. A warning. No details, just that a terrible fate would befall you if you went there. And it was true. Very seldom, I get those premonitions...and as a child, I had enough of that 'witch'-calling stuff, so I settled on that reluctant 'Hi, Charlie' because I was afraid you'd think I'm a freak or something...on that topic, I'd appreciate if we stick with the hugs! Also, you are both welcome to go to church with me on sunday for the evening mass. Don't worry, I won't sign you up for anything, but I think a short prayer and saying thanks to him would be in order." Alyson points skyward, smiling, as Charlene releases her hug.
A blush, at something. Probably she recalls the pleasure she remembers that night from being fed on. "I'm not a church goer, but i guess one time won't kill me. I don't know if Lawrence will want to go along but, I'll ask."
Diana walks by, "Hey, not to complain but I could use one of you to help with table three?"
Marcus smells the bastard but he has vanished. So he holds his shot and waits backing up all his senses on high:
And he knows where he is waiting until he knows he is dropping unable to dodge stepping back and firing up into his body center mass.
The crazed cook appears as he drops down and... Marcus nails the already wounded and burned Malk Anti dead center body mass, just as he hoped. And the sabbat tumbles down the steps smoking.
Patience, strategy, and good aim have given the Old Clan Tzimisce the victory.
"Sorry, I need to take this," Paolo said. He answered the phone in not at all his normal way, "Costa here."
"Sorry, I need to take this," Paolo said. He answered the phone in not at all his normal way, "Costa here."
A genteel southern drawl, "I declare, I shall never get used to these things. Oh, There you are. Paolo, I was just talking to your pappy, and he says you are a wiz with computers. To cut to the chase, we need some way of bumping search engines regarding words like 'vampires, zombies,' or so they put any recent news clippings down last to be found. If you can do more I'd love to hear it. And sooner is better than later, and now is better than sooner. Can you be a lamb and do that for me?"
He's tech support for the Prince??
A genteel southern drawl, "I declare, I shall never get used to these things. Oh, There you are. Paolo, I was just talking to your pappy, and he says you are a wiz with computers. To cut to the chase, we need some way of bumping search engines regarding words like 'vampires, zombies,' or so they put any recent news clippings down last to be found. If you can do more I'd love to hear it. And sooner is better than later, and now is better than sooner. Can you be a lamb and do that for me?"
He's tech support for the Prince??
I can do that with the emergency laptop. Might have to burn it afterwards, but acceptable loss. Just need wifi...and to not do it in front of Daphne and Contessa. Actually forget the wifi, the burner phone has data.
"Yes, it'll take me a few minutes but consider it done." Paolo said, coolly professional. Literally my job. And beats dealing with Sabbat goons on the street. "I'll let you know as soon as I have it."
As soon as he hung up he turned to Daphne and Contessa, "Sorry...I really have to go take care of stuff. You're very generous to offer, but I have arrangements made and there's a chance I might have to do work stuff there on short notice. Nondisclosure agreements have real teeth." A 100% chance of work and more like fangs for teeth. "I promise I'll check in again tomorrow and I hope I have news for you then." He got up to go, already loading the Uber app.
"Yes, it'll take me a few minutes but consider it done." Paolo said, coolly professional. Literally my job. And beats dealing with Sabbat goons on the street. "I'll let you know as soon as I have it."
"Minutes? That all? Well, wonders never cease. Thank you, Paolo. I will remember this, and reward accordingly. I'll leave you to your work."
As soon as he hung up he turned to Daphne and Contessa, "Sorry...I really have to go take care of stuff. You're very generous to offer, but I have arrangements made and there's a chance I might have to do work stuff there on short notice. Nondisclosure agreements have real teeth." A 100% chance of work and more like fangs for teeth. "I promise I'll check in again tomorrow and I hope I have news for you then." He got up to go, already loading the Uber app.
"I hear you there, I know cororate lawyers who design those things. Ick." Daphne says friendlier without realizing it.
Contessa smiles, "Well, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Good luck with your work."
And off he goes.
"Yes, it'll take me a few minutes but consider it done." Paolo said, coolly professional. Literally my job. And beats dealing with Sabbat goons on the street. "I'll let you know as soon as I have it.""Minutes? That all? Well, wonders never cease. Thank you, Paolo. I will remember this, and reward accordingly. I'll leave you to your work."
I am very good. Google isn't the bank, but skills transfer.
Paolo made his quick farewells to Daphne and Contessa and booted up the burner phone while he waited on the Uber. It would take him to wifi at a Starbucks -not the same one as he got the coffees from- so he had redundancy if a cell tower went down. Not the best location, but if he went back to his backup haven someone might recognize him. By now the police and fire had to be there and he'd never get away. This first, then he could let whatever first responders got his number to Dispatch find him.
"Hi," he told the driver. "Sorry, this is kind of a working trip. Short notice contract." He sat in the back, tethered his laptop to the burner phone, and got typing. There was no way he could hijack the algorithms forever, but a few days or a week should suffice. By then someone -or Paolo himself- would have made the stories disappear. It wouldn't do to deploy from the Uber, not with Paolo's phone account attached to the car just now, but he could start the coding he needed.
Search terms include: vampire+variants, undead+variants, zombie+variants...typical slang and aliases...names of clans... No personal names. Local rollout... Limit to the last 48 hours... Sunset in seven days... Google will get to it before then, for sure. Might last a couple of weeks somewhere else.
Rachel shakes her head, "I won't let you make me human again. I won't let you make me weak." a smile, "We will prove ourselves to be worthy of this. Do you know how good they taste? of course you do. It's really wonderful."
Micheal doesn't seem as focused despite having noticed them, "Are you a Cammie? We're..we're supposed to kill Cammies."
"Human again? One would think your first question would be how do I know your name, not the brightest of the Carter's eh?
Commies?"
Arthur pauses and begins to laugh, the sort of laugh that drains the color from a victim's face as if they know, not think, know that the voice is one of a being who has killed, killed and killed again. "Oh Michael, you said Cammie's not Commie's you reminded me of the Americans of the 50's with their "red scare" truly, I have not been so amused in decades".
"You've both said so much without saying much of anything. Welcome to the Long Night, I fear your stay will be short lived".
Like the blur from the fastest Brujah Elder utilizing Celerity, Arthur springs into action. His sword in hand as he drops the sack concealing it.
"Hi," he told the driver. "Sorry, this is kind of a working trip. Short notice contract." He sat in the back, tethered his laptop to the burner phone, and got typing. There was no way he could hijack the algorithms forever, but a few days or a week should suffice. By then someone -or Paolo himself- would have made the stories disappear. It wouldn't do to deploy from the Uber, not with Paolo's phone account attached to the car just now, but he could start the coding he needed.
"No problem," the Driver looks nervous, "It's been crazy tonight. Like Perle Perdu, if it were a ship, like rats were leaving. Ah well, don't mind me. Watching too much spooky stuff on netflix."
Search terms include: vampire+variants, undead+variants, zombie+variants...typical slang and aliases...names of clans... No personal names. Local rollout... Limit to the last 48 hours... Sunset in seven days... Google will get to it before then, for sure. Might last a couple of weeks somewhere else.
Screw the Tremere, this is the real magic. The work he does in less than a half hour may do more to preserve the masquerade than others are doing in one night.
He also realizes something, he's not the only one working the system.
something online is doing it to, but if the Prince told her someone else would do this, they didn't tell him
"Human again? One would think your first question would be how do I know your name, not the brightest of the Carter's eh?
"You're the long last relation, they texted about it..." She snaps.
Arthur pauses and begins to laugh, the sort of laugh that drains the color from a victim's face as if they know, not think, know that the voice is one of a being who has killed, killed and killed again. "Oh Michael, you said Cammie's not Commie's you reminded me of the Americans of the 50's with their "red scare" truly, I have not been so amused in decades".
Michael says, "We're dead. Why are you joking when we're ..."
"You've both said so much without saying much of anything. Welcome to the Long Night, I fear your stay will be short lived".
+2 Sux
...
Tongue action
Aggravated, yikes!
Serpentis 2 is nasty
And Arthur's attacks are breath taking, in speed, not depth, but only the second wounds her, her precious vitae splattering out of her side.
And Michael slows down before he can do whatever it is he was trying to do!
the Nosferatu appears out of nowhere and stabs hard trying to get the heart. Imp's blow is strong, but he doesn't quite make his mark.
And Rachel hisses and a tongue, razor sharp lances out and strikes the true brujah in the chest! It tears through him like a two pronged knife through rice paper.
Paolo almost forgot to get out of the Uber at the Starbucks. He put up typing just long enough to claim a table with his back to the wall, facing the door, and sit down with a cheap coffee he would never touch.
We are not alone. Isn't that interesting? Paolo considered holding off on deploying the code, but he couldn't risk getting distracted. Worst case, he was out a phone and a laptop he was planning to ditch anyway. Right now the important thing was to preserve the Masquerade. Then he could get curious.
Finishing up, Paolo wrote a script to shoot the code along multiple paths to best obscure its origins.
Then Paolo entered the release commands and turned his attention to the other kid in the sandbox.
Hello there. What are you up to?
Paolo almost forgot to get out of the Uber at the Starbucks. He put up typing just long enough to claim a table with his back to the wall, facing the door, and sit down with a cheap coffee he would never touch.
None need know of this secret shame.
We are not alone. Isn't that interesting? Paolo considered holding off on deploying the code, but he couldn't risk getting distracted. Worst case, he was out a phone and a laptop he was planning to ditch anyway. Right now the important thing was to preserve the Masquerade. Then he could get curious.
Finishing up, Paolo wrote a script to shoot the code along multiple paths to best obscure its origins.
Whoever this is, they're going to have a devil of a time finding where he's at, where it started.
Then Paolo entered the release commands and turned his attention to the other kid in the sandbox.
Hello there. What are you up to?
Who wants to know?
"Someone will be there as quickly as possible. They'll have the capacity. And Mr. Talbot, do be cautious of your own club. More than one who considers themselves versed in these things believe these lesser attacks are distraction for a bigger prize. As you are a shadow weaver, you might be a prime target for the Sabbat, Lasombra or no..." a pause and shot gun blast, "And I have to go."
She hangs up on him, though, admittedly, phone etiquette is not a priority right now.
Minutes pass.
About twenty later, the door opens and Gaetano of Palermo enters.
The Lasombra Antitribu is dressed very stylishly even for a man who is helping with a crisis. It's not the style favored here, but he does carry himself well, and his eyes appraise the room until they fall onto Damien, "Mr. Talbot. I'm sent here by a mutual acquaintance to help with a small matter of someone's nerves."
"You made excellent time, sir." Damien says to Gaetano, greeting him at the door. The gentleman in question the rather out of place fellow at the bar."[/b] he says walking along over to the bar.
Talking to the anxious mortal, Damien says, "I promised you I would contact someone who could help."
"Here he is." Damien says with a smile gesturing toward Gaetano.
Standing by, Damien watches as the Lasombra works his magic.
Arthur Soak Arthur grunts as the tongue slices across his chest.
In response he once more summons blood to increase his quickness. A risk yes as he can feel the Beast calling to him but the rewards for dropping two of these Beasts, worth the price.
Arthur once more goes on the offensive but this time maneuvers to ensure that he is not struck again.
|
Grabbing a fire extinguisher if necessary Marcus will move down to the fallen enemy looking to ensure no witnesses are near and move the body dragging him into a near by room and closing the door and locking it to keep out unwanted guests. Marcus will look for a wallet waste not, want not and take it if it is there.
Finally having defended his domain, he will savor the victory... literally... and drink the malkavian dry.
A blush, at something. Probably she recalls the pleasure she remembers that night from being fed on. "I'm not a church goer, but i guess one time won't kill me. I don't know if Lawrence will want to go along but, I'll ask."
"Definitely do ask him! It was a very pleasant evening with the two of you. I am sorry for intruding on your date, but I would very much like to meet you again under more pleasant circumstances, I will ask Sam to come along, too!", Alyson replied...Sam wasn't a big fan of church, but it seemed prudent to remind Charlene that Alyson had no interest in Lawrence - at least not in a way that would threaten their blossoming relationship.
Diana walks by, "Hey, not to complain but I could use one of you to help with table three?"
Giving Charlene one more smile, Alyson waves at Diana:"Coming, I've got it!", then rushes off to table 3.
EDIT I stand corrected Agg is soaked by Fort only, just double checked. Stupid rule makes fire and sunlight less special.
Assume 1 less damage on each attack ST but the end result should still be the same!
For a moment, the Beast rears up inside Arthur's soul. Horrible, intangible and pushing him towards rage. Yet he is no pretend brujah prone to tanrums.
He is a True Brujah, and will will not be fazed lightly, even by the fog of war.
Refusing to be a slave to battle lust does not mean he is lacking in very dangerous skills as he ignores his wound, lunges his blade deep into the belly of his kinswoman, and incapacitates her.
Still, a blur, he takes one of his stolen moments , just as she hits the ground he plunges a stake into her chest immobilizing her.
And then with his last motions brings his blade up and slices the already wounded Michael.
And beheads him!
Which may not have been his intent.
But the shovelhead ducked at the worst possible time.
Imp looks relieved, "Highlander for the win" Whatever that means.
The battle over, the Nosfertu looks at blood soaked blade of the True Brujah, the staked woman on the ground near the trees, and the still slightly rolling head of whatever clan Michael was.
"Remind me never ever to piss you off."
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"You made excellent time, sir."Damien says to Gaetano, greeting him at the door. The gentleman in question the rather out of place fellow at the bar."he says walking along over to the bar.
"Yes, traffic is only half the problem, I fear cousin. I'll update you later if you like." A low mutter.
Talking to the anxious mortal, Damien says, "I promised you I would contact someone who could help.""Here he is." Damien says with a smile gesturing toward Gaetano.
Standing by, Damien watches as the Lasombra works his magic.
"You're going to help me?" The man blinks.
"I'm certainly going to sympathize," Gaetano sighs,"The world is a morbid, twisted place."
"No, no kidding," The guy says.
"I swear when it happened to me, I was stunned!" The Lasombra Antitribu shakes his head.
"What you saw something like that?"
"Well, probably not the exact same thing, but tell me what you saw," Gaetano inquires.
Most of what comes after is a repeat of what Damien already learned. A few more details perhaps as Gaetano presses here and there.
Then, looking into the man's eyes, he says "Exactly, the same thing happened to me too. Only yours really went all out with the blood capsule stuff... in the forehead no less. But still, they should have to get a permit, shouldn't they?"
"A..p-permit to..."
"Cosplay and fan films," Gaetano slams his fist on the counter light enough not ot hurt anything but heavy enough for a dramatic point as he holds the mans' eyes, "These Walking Dead fans are a menace to unsuspecting citizens like you and I. There you were walking down the street when these that guy in a realistic costume of a guard turns after the prop glass is broken and apparently shoots a woman. It's a good thing you don't have a bad heart! I mean, you know now the color was too dark for real blood. And you remember the model of the gun was off from standard issue, but it looked so real no wonder you were shaken."
"I was terrified," the man agrees, "And anyone would have thought it was real."
"Yes, I imagine you won't be going in that part of town for at least a week. These damn flash mobs and amateur fan film makers maybe creative sometimes but they've no consideration for working joes such as we. I'm impressed you're rising above their nonsense and putting it behind you." Gaetano pats the fellow on the shoulder.
"Well, you know, life's too short...." The man says, "I mean, the hue of the blood , I didn't even think about that until a few minutes ago. Sorry for all the trouble. Are you a counselor?"
"I'm a consultant," Gaetano smiles, "Here, let me buy you one more drink than get you a cab. You'll want a long night's rest and when you wake it'll just be a half remembered film stunt by some inconsiderate people."
"Yeah," He nods slowly, one can almost see his memories changing already.
And it's done. Gaetano buys another drink for the man, and gets him a cab home.
The Lasombra heads towards the private members only area and motions Damien to please follow.
Should he, he says "Well well done, Mr. Talbot. I admit this is not the first time I've had to help with erasure. The Ventrue are I'm told in a scramble doing much the same, but this is the easiest one I've had thanks to your preparation and alertness. I will mention it to the Prince."
His Beast sees the head fall and latches onto Micheal draining him dry of the little blood he has left before it becomes tainted . He then approaches Rachel and sinks his fangs into her. Drinking her dry as well.
As the blood levels off the Beast he turns to the Imp.
"Piss me off? I am Trujah, we are difficult to Piss off Imp. This was business, nothing personal. Can you call your friends once more for a pick up? Then I'll need your telly once more. I hate to bother the Sheriff again but we'll need to meet in person this time, this is not good..."
Phone in hand he dials the Sheriff once more.
Grabbing a fire extinguisher if necessary Marcus will move down to the fallen enemy looking to ensure no witnesses are near and move the body dragging him into a near by room and closing the door and locking it to keep out unwanted guests. Marcus will look for a wallet waste not, want not and take it if it is there.
Finally having defended his domain, he will savor the victory... literally... and drink the malkavian dry.
Dragging the half burned Malk Anti into a side room, Marcus rifles through the mans' pockets. The ID says Arnold Harker (One should assume no relation), age 41, lives in a small but decent home in suburbia judging by the address. About a hundred and thirty dollars in his wallet and a member ship in some sort of meat market club.
Keys to a toyota that is probably far far away by now.
And so, Marcus latches onto the fallen kindred and begins to drink.
It's a rich swirl of blood far stronger than anything a mortal provides, and yet with that fresh 'still had something human in it' bouquet. Oh he was not a vampire long, but it still counts.
But to take not just his blood, but his soul? His power... that has ramifications. The Camarilla frowns on that, then again this was Sabbat, and intruder, and the Prince likes his sire. And it was on his domain. Choices choices...
His Beast sees the head fall and latches onto Micheal draining him dry of the little blood he has left before it becomes tainted . He then approaches Rachel and sinks his fangs into her. Drinking her dry as well.
Their blood is weaker than his. He can tell that much, though not by much! That's good to know as it lets him gauge that he's at least as powerful or slightly more so than this Loa Joe.
As the blood levels off the Beast he turns to the Imp.
"Piss me off? I am Trujah, we are difficult to Piss off Imp. This was business, nothing personal. Can you call your friends once more for a pick up? Then I'll need your telly once more. I hate to bother the Sheriff again but we'll need to meet in person this time, this is not good..."
Phone in hand he dials the Sheriff once more.
"Hey, easy on sucking down the Sabbies, you don't know where they've been, and if she pops out of that, aren't you a bit worried you'll be ah, tied to her? by a bit? I guess once won't hurt but geez."He hands over the phone.
And the Sheriff picks up, "Imp? or Mr. Carter again?" She asks.
Arthur stands away from Rachel and picks up his sword beheading her, "That juice was not worth the squeeze. Best I get blood from them and not you, I think you'd agree yes?"
"Mr. Carter Sheriff, two less two legged problems have been dealt with. However, through this hunt I have discovered useful information that I prefer to deliver to you in person. I shall travel to you. Where are you located?"
"Yes, traffic is only half the problem, I fear cousin. I'll update you later if you like." A low mutter...
...The Lasombra heads towards the private members only area and motions Damien to please follow.
Should he, he says "Well well done, Mr. Talbot. I admit this is not the first time I've had to help with erasure. The Ventrue are I'm told in a scramble doing much the same, but this is the easiest one I've had thanks to your preparation and alertness. I will mention it to the Prince."
"Thank you Graetano, I feel it my duty to respond as such. The Prince has been kind enough to be accepting...no, welcoming of members of the various bloodlines, it seems only fair that I do what ever little I can to maintain the peace." Damien says with a smile.
"Can I get you a drink? On the house of course." Damien asks, making idle chatter.
"When you first arrived you had mentioned traffic was only half the problem getting here this evening? To what horrors do we owe the other half?"
"Definitely do ask him! It was a very pleasant evening with the two of you. I am sorry for intruding on your date, but I would very much like to meet you again under more pleasant circumstances, I will ask Sam to come along, too!", Alyson replied...Sam wasn't a big fan of church, but it seemed prudent to remind Charlene that Alyson had no interest in Lawrence - at least not in a way that would threaten their blossoming relationship.
Charlene nods in agreement, "Fine."
Giving Charlene one more smile, Alyson waves at Diana:"Coming, I've got it!", then rushes off to table 3.
Table 3 seems to be packed with more chairs than originally intended. It had three college age women at first, dressed in nice club wear really. And then, three more joined them.
Fang and three of his anarchs are here. One of the college girls is in his lap purring like a kitten as he strokes her neck and she looks into his eyes. Another fellow, a big muscular vampire, well, the woman near him is more confused than enthralled. The third college girl with glasses definitely is enthralled, and confused, as she finds herself smitten with a female anarch. The fourth anarch is a latino gent who has a headset plugged in.
"Don't mind us," Fang gestures to himself and the other Anarchs, "We ate so to speak. Just crashing and waiting it out. Now these three ladies probably have orders."
The three college women will mumble their orders.
Arthur stands away from Rachel and picks up his sword beheading her, "That juice was not worth the squeeze. Best I get blood from them and not you, I think you'd agree yes?"
Imp watches the second head roll, "Dude, you are cold. Of course, the joke about two heads being better than one came to mind, so maybe I got no right to judge."
"Mr. Carter Sheriff, two less two legged problems have been dealt with. However, through this hunt I have discovered useful information that I prefer to deliver to you in person. I shall travel to you. Where are you located?"
"I find myself at Copperhead shed. Dealing with more of these spawnlings with the help of Mr. Ian Rogers, the Prince's prize ghoul is aiding me..." Sounds of gun fire, "But I find no Anarchs here! Normally they're the front line so I sought them out. Hurry, I can't promise I'll be here all night."
This is no elder he feasts upon, just some poor schlub who was only recently embraced! Yet, there is some power even here, and Marcus forgets himself utterly, feasting deep deeper, and when he hits soul? He continues!
All that was the shattered psyche and once mortal spirit of Arnold Harker flows into Marcus! And while it may make some feeble attempt to linger, it is snuffed, broken down, and then gone.
Marcus feels some memories, a childhood, high school flashbacks, football (At least the American version), culinary school, a marriage... a divorce, between those a son is born.
Good humor in this one, Arnold was a upbeat optimistic sort of guy. For a moment the alter ego that started to spawn because of his embrace tries to fight. Oh, this other self would have been cold, cruel, and efficient. But it's just a seed going against the will of the Old Clan. It too is crushed and digested to no longer be.
When he looks down from his daze, Marcus realizes he is full, truly full, and the hunger minute. He also feels like he is ... MORE than he was, perhaps not much more, but there you have it.
And, strangest of all, he knows how to cook now.
"Well Sheriff, they are Anarchs, reliability is not generally their strong suit, I shall get there when I can".
He turns to the Imp, "My new friend, the Sheriff is a bit far off, can you steal keys for me from a local residence that I may drive to his location? My driving was never very good but these automatic transmissions are much more reliable than the old Model T's. You of course should remain here for clean up. The situation near the Sheriff appears dangerous".
He pauses, "Cold? Oh yes the beheading, well, she already told me all I need to know and her blood was inferior. The Prince would not suffer her to live even if she could be redeemed, she had little left to offer this world".
Once procured, Arthur will drive to the Copperhead to link up with the Sheriff.
"Thank you Gaetano, I feel it my duty to respond as such. The Prince has been kind enough to be accepting...no, welcoming of members of the various bloodlines, it seems only fair that I do what ever little I can to maintain the peace." Damien says with a smile.
"A prudent and honorable philosophy, would that others saw the greater picture." A frown at something.
"Can I get you a drink? On the house of course." Damien asks, making idle chatter.
"On a night where everyone's resources are taxed, I would be foolish not to accept. I don't suppose you have aristocrat do you? I miss feeding from the neck of a proper duchess." Wistful.
"When you first arrived you had mentioned traffic was only half the problem getting here this evening? To what horrors do we owe the other half?"
"The Sabbat are upon us, they've sent shovelheads everywhere. The Lakeside Restaurant was apparently their recruiting station. These are distractions, meant to test the masquerade and waste our resources. Frankly, between this and the 'shadow hunting caitiff', the styles vary. We may have more than one more pack behind this, but perhaps not. Mr. talbot, your blood lin and my clan have a ...history. That's one of the reasons I'm telling you this before the Prince does. The Sabbat are going to want to make a gesture. Traditionally that gesture is to kill any treacherous Lasombra 'antitribu' such as myself and my childe. Given that, I'll understand if you don't want me to linger but I'm hoping you see strength in at least a temporary alliance? "
"Well Sheriff, they are Anarchs, reliability is not generally their strong suit, I shall get there when I can".
Sheriff Hunter snorts, "I am aware of the first, but it still unsual for them to not be here. Regardless. Make haste."
She hangs up. She really is a testy creature, but then she appears rather curt to everyone, so at least there is even handedness.
He turns to the Imp, "My new friend, the Sheriff is a bit far off, can you steal keys for me from a local residence that I may drive to his location? My driving was never very good but these automatic transmissions are much more reliable than the old Model T's. You of course should remain here for clean up. The situation near the Sheriff appears dangerous".
"Can do. Maybe if I do you enough favors you'll teach me some of that weird slow down speed up stuff," Imp grins.
He pauses, "Cold? Oh yes the beheading, well, she already told me all I need to know and her blood was inferior. The Prince would not suffer her to live even if she could be redeemed, she had little left to offer this world".
"Don't be too sure about her suffering them to live, the Prince is getting pretty obsessed with collecting some strange ass vampires." A pause, "No offense, your badassness."
Shortly later, Arthur finds himself in a Midnight Blue Ford Focus with a bumper sticker that says 'My Son kicked your Honor Roll Student's ass'
Once procured, Arthur will drive to the Copperhead to link up with the Sheriff.
Arthur is fortunate in that as he arrives, there appears to be very little violence. To his surprise, he sees the Prince herself, talking to the Ian Rogers (her ghoul) and the Sheriff.
Ian Rogers appears to be 24 years old, but is likely much older. The ghoul is wearing a bullet proof vest, and carrying some impressive guns. His hand drifts towards one, then drifts away again as he sees Arthur approach and realizes who it is.
"The Primogen will rebel if you try that," The Sheriff is saying.
"When are they not rebelling? In in their own special ways? " The Prince says, "Besides, Alica Darling, I won't say it flat out, I'll just make sure everyone knows it's okay. I'm nuanced. I need to further consolidate my control over the Primogen anyway, and I think I know how to do it."
"Company, Miss LaCassette," Ian says, "And I think he heard you."
"Of course, Ian dear, I meant him to. What's the point of gossip if it doesn't get around?" She turns to see the Trujah, "Mr. Carter, the Sheriff tells me you have something for her, and thus I assume for me?"
Who wants to know?Then Paolo entered the release commands and turned his attention to the other kid in the sandbox.
Hello there. What are you up to?
Paolo's dead heart skipped a beat. He hadn't expected an answer. There was a possible vulnerability here, but he was on an expendable, clean machine plugged into public wifi. He paid cash for the coffee. Unless the other guy was in the room with him, he should be safe.
It had to wait a minute. Paolo made sure his regular phone wasn't using the wifi or anything else the laptop might see, then phoned in his report. He made a polite greeting, but got right to things:
"I resolved our issue," he said, quietly typing away as he did. "Should hold for a few days at least, then I'll have to reset things if we still need the patch."
Paolo hadn't been in touch with another hacker since university and knowing what was going on in the wires locally would be very useful. Paolo might get an ally out of it. Or uncover a threat. He sorted through and discarded all his previous noms de net in favor of a new one dug out of the back of his memory. The one that inspired that novel they had to read in school. That would work.
While he considered, Paolo set about trying to trace his new friend and see what he was up to.
Margaret Garner. You?
"Don't be too sure about her suffering them to live, the Prince is getting pretty obsessed with collecting some strange ass vampires." A pause, "No offense, your badassness."
"Offended? Why would the truth offend me Imp?
Setites are not unique merely bothersome".
"Can do. Maybe if I do you enough favors you'll teach me some of that weird slow down speed up stuff," Imp grins.
"Well, that was a favor more for the Prince and the Sheriff than I, worry not, I shall tell them of your bravery in this and your resourcefulness.
My tricks? Why Imp, imagine how much you'd have to trade to me to learn something so rare?" Arthur does smile back.
---
He approaches the small gathering with his shirt ripped open, vicious wound in plain view.
"The Primogen will rebel if you try that," The Sheriff is saying.
"When are they not rebelling? In their own special ways?" The Prince says, "Besides, Alica Darling, I won't say it flat out, I'll just make sure everyone knows it's okay. I'm nuanced. I need to further consolidate my control over the Primogen anyway, and I think I know how to do it."
"Company, Miss LaCassette," Ian says, "And I think he heard you."
"Of course, Ian dear, I meant him to. What's the point of gossip if it doesn't get around?" She turns to see the Trujah, "Mr. Carter, the Sheriff tells me you have something for her, and thus I assume for me?"
"It is indeed true, the Primogen will always rebel, even in the best of times. Of course one must define rebel to come to a consensus as to what exactly we mean when we say that and there is so little time this night for discourse on that particular topic.
I fear I did not overhear enough to start a true rumor but if you wish to share more with me you shall find me an attentive listener and an even more accurate translator. I can even offer my thoughts if you wish them, no quid pro quo, you after all are the Prince and the position of Seneschal appears vacant...
The reason I came to seek out the Sheriff is because I have discovered vital intelligence regarding our threat, not about the Caitiff, at least not yet, but about tonight's more blatant attack. However, I am glad to meet with you once more Prince, while now is not the proper time, at some point soon I would seek an audience with you, consider yourself on notice as to my interest". Arthur bows stiffly.
"Now, to weightier matters. The pack behind this attack is known as the Unrepentant. Traditionally a nomadic pack, they often are forerunners of a greater siege. They test defenses, cause chaos, and stress the Masquerade with a multitude of distractions. Loa Joe is the Ductus/Pack Leader, and a Serpent of Light.
As I noted Sheriff, we waste our time being defensive when they are already somewhere else on the offensive no doubt. Loa Joe is approximately my strength in blood if not slightly weaker. As a Setite Antitribu, I'd not waste time attempting to stake him as he may well have removed his heart to defend against such attacks, were I him, it is what I would have done.
It was his Fledgling and another unworthy that I have taken off the board. I would be remiss if I do not mention the fact that the Imp stood by me bravely, if ineffectively, as I defeated these shovelheads. Still, he has shown to me that he is a Kindred of conviction and should be given honorable mention for what he did and the fact that he will once more utilize his contacts to ensure the Masquerade is intact should not be ignored.
In addition, these shovelheads have not only under gone the ritual of burial to test their strength and weaken their humanity, they appear to have been dominated a bit before or after to further indoctrinate them. How much is hard to say. I did not see the utility in questioning the one that I staked so I simply removed her head.
I stand before you willing and clearly able to assist. However, my resources have run a bit thin and any source of vitae that I may have access to now would be appreciated if you wish me to continue to fight the good fight, so to speak".
It had to wait a minute. Paolo made sure his regular phone wasn't using the wifi or anything else the laptop might see, then phoned in his report. He made a polite greeting, but got right to things:
"I resolved our issue," he said, quietly typing away as he did. "Should hold for a few days at least, then I'll have to reset things if we still need the patch."
He got voice mail, but no doubt the Prince will get it.
Paolo hadn't been in touch with another hacker since university and knowing what was going on in the wires locally would be very useful. Paolo might get an ally out of it. Or uncover a threat. He sorted through and discarded all his previous noms de net in favor of a new one dug out of the back of his memory. The one that inspired that novel they had to read in school. That would work.
While he considered, Paolo set about trying to trace his new friend and see what he was up to.
Margaret Garner. You?
Joseph Merrick. Nice to meet you. Mind not piggy backing my ass while I'm trying to do the same thing you're doing?
But it works, and Paolo knows the address where the person is, they are at, a substation? Could be a redirect, but he doesn't think so. Someone is squating at a substation for their hack.
"Well, that was a favor more for the Prince and the Sheriff than I, worry not, I shall tell them of your bravery in this and your resourcefulness.
My tricks? Why Imp, imagine how much you'd have to trade to me to learn something so rare?" Arthur does smile back.
"You're the one asking for the car, you're the one driving, so it's on your tab because I know the Prince and Sheriff aren't taking up the check, but I'll admit, it's a drop in the bucket to pay for that crazy hour glass bender. Safe travels. I'll clean this up."
He approaches the small gathering with his shirt ripped open, vicious wound in plain view.
"It is indeed true, the Primogen will always rebel, even in the best of times. Of course one must define rebel to come to a consensus as to what exactly we mean when we say that and there is so little time this night for discourse on that particular topic.
Ian raises a brow, "they aren't kidding. He's a talker."
"Shush, Mr. Rogers," the Prince says to her ghoul, "He is also clearly a man of action judging by his wound. Do go on sir."
I fear I did not overhear enough to start a true rumor but if you wish to share more with me you shall find me an attentive listener and an even more accurate translator. I can even offer my thoughts if you wish them, no quid pro quo, you after all are the Prince and the position of Seneschal appears vacant...
The Sheriff's eyes narrow at something.
The Prince merely smiles and listens.
The reason I came to seek out the Sheriff is because I have discovered vital intelligence regarding our threat, not about the Caitiff, at least not yet, but about tonight's more blatant attack. However, I am glad to meet with you once more Prince, while now is not the proper time, at some point soon I would seek an audience with you, consider yourself on notice as to my interest". Arthur bows stiffly.
"Now, to weightier matters. The pack behind this attack is known as the Unrepentant. Traditionally a nomadic pack, they often are forerunners of a greater siege. They test defenses, cause chaos, and stress the Masquerade with a multitude of distractions. Loa Joe is the Ductus/Pack Leader, and a Serpent of Light.
Here it is the Prince's turn to frown, "Clearly this Loa Joe has no manners."
As I noted Sheriff, we waste our time being defensive when they are already somewhere else on the offensive no doubt. Loa Joe is approximately my strength in blood if not slightly weaker. As a Setite Antitribu, I'd not waste time attempting to stake him as he may well have removed his heart to defend against such attacks, were I him, it is what I would have done.
Sheriff Hunter says, "Mr. Hunter, you seem to forget we are at a disadvantage in how we play this game. Even a single shovelhead in the wrong place at the worst time can endanger the masquerade, and it is the masquerade we must protect, even above the city. How did you learn all this?"
Then he answers some of her question
"It was his Fledgling and another unworthy that I have taken off the board. I would be remiss if I do not mention the fact that the Imp stood by me bravely, if ineffectively, as I defeated these shovelheads. Still, he has shown to me that he is a Kindred of conviction and should be given honorable mention for what he did and the fact that he will once more utilize his contacts to ensure the Masquerade is intact should not be ignored.
"Oh, my, Imp you say? Yes, I suppose Primogen Northcliff will be pleased you passed on some praise." The prince taps her fingers "Yes, I must admit, it appears many exceptional young Kindred are stepping up."
"Where as the Anarchs have vanished," the sheriff mutters, "Could they be aiding the Sabbat?"
The Prince's eyes flash for a moment the sheriff, "Sharper than a serpent's tooth he maybe, ingrateful he maybe, but he's no Sabbat. His crime is one of breaking his routine, and some would say cunningly so. This just a display of his power, how the Anarchs will not be content to be our first line of defense and then ignoreed That much is obvious. I may stake him for endangering my city in this little power play, but not for joining the sabbat. the punishment should fit the crime IF Crime there be." She draws out her fan and flutters
In addition, these shovelheads have not only under gone the ritual of burial to test their strength and weaken their humanity, they appear to have been dominated a bit before or after to further indoctrinate them. How much is hard to say. I did not see the utility in questioning the one that I staked so I simply removed her head.I stand before you willing and clearly able to assist. However, my resources have run a bit thin and any source of vitae that I may have access to now would be appreciated if you wish me to continue to fight the good fight, so to speak".
"You will need a great deal of blood indeed, sir, and as you have along with others been a gallant champion tonight, it will be provided unto you. But it will take more than that, sir. You need rest, or all the blood in the world won't help you."
The Prince turns to the Sheriff, "Both he and our dear Lasombra Antitribu senior have said much the same thing, that this is a diversion to something greater. Even you agree but you are also right that we cannot simply go off ignoring the breaches of the masquerade hoping to stumble onto the true pack. We might win a battle and lose existence. I want you take Mr. Carter, Mr. Costa, Miss Reed, Professor Welby, Mr. Talbot Miss Ha, Miss Betty and that Lethe fellow under you as Hounds. Make sure they get proper weapons, maybe a little protection."
The Sheriff's eyes widen, "My prince, some of them, I dare say, most of them are not suited to combat."
"Well, we appear to be low an alternatives," The Prince says, "I didn't say to sell their unlives cheaply, Sheriff. As it stands, there is now a blood hunt on all Sabbat. And however they are disposed of, in any way as long as it doesn't violate the masquerade or set my city on fire makes no nevermind to me."
Then the Prince turns to Arthur, "Don't worry, my dear Gallant. I doubt the Hounds will be assembled until tomorrow night. The Sabbat are often even more prone to daylight sluggishness than we so this will, for good or ill close up in the next hour or two for this night. May I offer you a haven and a few vessels that are safe to drink from?"
"And where do you think they will attack?" The Sheriff inquires of Carter, "My own guess is the Lasombra havens. One has already been burned down."
"A prudent and honorable philosophy, would that others saw the greater picture." A frown at something.
"Something bothering you, my friend." Damien says in his best bartender/confidant tone. "Perhaps someone close to you that is not wise enough to share that philosophy?"
"On a night where everyone's resources are taxed, I would be foolish not to accept. I don't suppose you have aristocrat do you? I miss feeding from the neck of a proper duchess." Wistful.
"Aristocrat is not a problem, the only question is which nationality and if you would like to spice it up a bit. Personally I would suggest the French with a splash of Bordeaux and a hint of herbs de provence...maybe even a touch of Toreador artiste if you are feeling particularly adventurous."
"The Sabbat are upon us, they've sent shovelheads everywhere. The Lakeside Restaurant was apparently their recruiting station. These are distractions, meant to test the masquerade and waste our resources. Frankly, between this and the 'shadow hunting caitiff', the styles vary. We may have more than one more pack behind this, but perhaps not. Mr. talbot, your bloodline and my clan have a ...history. That's one of the reasons I'm telling you this before the Prince does. The Sabbat are going to want to make a gesture. Traditionally that gesture is to kill any treacherous Lasombra 'antitribu' such as myself and my childe. Given that, I'll understand if you don't want me to linger but I'm hoping you see strength in at least a temporary alliance? "
"Nonsense. You are perfectly welcome here. Against the combined might of two packs it would be wise for all under the Camarilla banner to provided a unified front. An alliance would seem to rather appropriate, Graetano."
Marcus cleans himself up and removes all evidence taking the flare gun with him and going back to where the woman is locked up knicking on the door saying would you be so kind as to tell me who you are?
"Bethany Hallywell," A groan, "Clan Gangrel. And no, I can't do the claws thing yet."