|
|
t h e . w a y w a r d - e v e n t
s
| |
On the surface,
an Elysium of unsurpassed splendor. Beneath, something sinister lurks...
OldanVisuce Is not good time to try to find girlie, I think. *starts to stagger back to the gathering area* Bah, the Cat and Dog are back there waiting to.... I get Niko. Is time to get Niko good. *while walking back the direction he came, plotting, another sound courses through his mind and body* OK! OK! I get picture, the Cat can wait. *mutters something about felines and canines* Hello again everyone! *enters the room after Elijah meets the chair* Vash Well, Mr. Bucket, it looks like Mr. Marks has been doing some carving... and it looks just like him. How grand! *Vash leans in and nods his head* What's that you say? Mr. Larson is full of hot air? Well, coming from someone who was full of soapy water only a few days ago, that's quite an insiteful comment. *Vash pats the bucket* Let's just hope Mr. Larson didn't hear what you said... or you two might get in a fight. And I'm sure we wouldn't like to see Mr. Larson fighting a bucket. But whatever you do, don't get me involved. *Vash then quickly turns away from "Mr. Bucket" and whistles innocently* Altiriel Twice-Born "Who watches the watchmen?" he says softly. OldanVisuce Elijah Robert Marks "I've never seen it before. Did someone put this in my pocket when I wasn't looking?" Then, to Altiriel: "I don't mean to seem rude, but did I really just see an eye open up on your forehead, or am I still suffering from that fall?" ------------------ Altiriel Twice-Born *softly* "Crawling shadows...cherry-wood...hot tea...a tall, black...black..." *sighs* "Nothing. Too much is covered in fear." *turns to Oldan* "He did not do this himself. Look at that--if that is not the Red Fear, he is very close to it." "And this is the not the only doppelganger Elijah found. There were others..." Elijah Robert Marks "I found what? What are you talking about?" He shakes his head, trying to remember something, but it passes. "I think I'm getting a headache. That doesn't seem fair." He sighs. "You'd think being undead would at least render you impervious to headaches. And I'll bet aspirin doesn't do a thing for us, does it?" ------------------ Altiriel Twice-Born "I have to admit, I lied earlier, Elijah. I am not of Clan Toreador." *bows* "Altiriel Twice-Born of Clan Salubri, at your service." "And no, aspirin doesn't do anything. Unless, perhaps, you drink the blood of someone who overdosed on it." *holds the figurine up to Elijah's eyes* "Think, Elijah... You had to have gotten it from somewhere. I could not see clearly enough to tell where it came from. Try to remember...it may be important." Elijah Robert Marks "I'm sorry... I haven't heard of Clan Salubri. I assume that if you were posing as another clan, however, that Clan Salubri isn't very popular among other Clans... or it is rare enough that you would be easily identified without using deception..." ------------------ Altiriel Twice-Born Elijah Robert Marks "You might want to watch your step around him, if your clans are not... on the best of terms. He seems to be able to conjure up a few daemons in this own right." ------------------ Altiriel Twice-Born "Despite the defenses of the Hall, I'll take no chances where the Usurpers are concerned." OldanVisuce Did you say others? If there is one of Oldan, they better have got my nose right. Every painting, sculpture, and picture always get nose wrong! Did anyone see where Elijah was wandering to when he left? We need Scooby-Doo to sniff. *looks very mischievous* Larson, would you mind trying to find smell? Elijah Robert Marks Elijah closes his eyes and tries to concentrate. "I was sitting here... the girl was singing... she left the room crying. I got up to explore... I saw waiters. Then I'm smashed against a wall, the chair is knocked over, and everyone's looking at me strangely. Yeah, exactly that expression... that's uncanny. "I sure don't remember seeing that. You say I found it? Did you see me find it? I must have blacked out from something, but I don't remember passing out at all. When I play it in my memory it just jumps from waiters to wall." Elijah leans closer to Altiriel and Oldan, whispering. "Um, did I do something to Larson? He's been giving me this look that, quite franky, makes me very uncomfortable." ------------------ OldanVisuce *hands Elijah a handkerchief* Please, clean yourself Elijah, you make me hungry. And if I'm hungry, it is amazing Larson hasn't eaten you by now. *whispers* And don't worry about Larson giving you looks, he give everyone looks. *glances Larson's direction, as if to make sure that he isn't coming Oldan's way* Stormcaller OldanVisuce Niiiiiikooooo you should come, too. We can talk on way. *mumbles to himself* Not done with you, Cat, not by long-shot. Should we bring a tough-guy? Or hope that laws stick? Krouser Krouser Daimon stalked the back roomes of the great hall. Something back here had disturbed Elijah. He sniffed abscently. As the vauge scent of blood crossed his nose. Elijah, scared? Not a pleasent thought, he decided. His eyes focused, as he found the room Eli had left. He looked in. The room was empty. Krouser turned his attention to the door. A vauge imprint of a bloody hand, likely left by Elijah, crossed a matte black carving of a stake. His eyes crossed the other doors, as he turned. Each door was marked similerly. Finaly, as he completed his turn, his view crossed the call, to rest on the stylized katana on the opposite door. His hand was turning the antique handle before he could stop himself. He closed the door behind him, summoning the light of the beast, as the room was pitch black. The pink tinged immage of the room filled his mind. He stepped forward, and reached for the tightly wrapped fabric on his sword hilt. The familier feel of the weapon reassured him. "Theif." Krouser turned, instinctivly gripping the hilt. The speaker stepped out of the shadows, a Japanese man, in an old military uniform. In his hand, he held an empty sheath. This hiss of a drawn katana filled the air, as Krouser remembered the face. "You reject my name, and claim my gift. You are a theif, Koshiri Hachi, Unfit to carry my sword." the trooper ushed him, swiftly wrentching the sword from Krouser's grasp. Krouser backed away, slinging his arms back, and unsheating his claws. "Father did as you asked, Nageto Koshiri, and we where cast out for it. Speaking the name of a dead soul is forbidden amon the Navajo. We where exiled from the lands were spirits protect us. Father died because of you!" Krouser shot back, shooting one taloned hand forward. Koshiri parried easily, and backed away. "Douglas told me he'd train a worth successor. You haven't the honor of a dog, nor the skill of a drunkard. You don't deserve my name." Koshiri flicked the katana forward, carving a deep welt in Krouser's arm. Krouser snarled, and lunged forward. Koshiri sidestepped easily, and slashed Krouser's back, leaving a long cut. Krouser stumbled, and rose, a low growl in his throat. "Give me the sword, Koshiri, It's mine. I worked ten years to earn it, and fought with it for five more. GIVE IT TO ME!" Krouser's glowing eyes flared, as his hairline turned a sunned yellow, and extended down his neck, into his shirt. *outside* Vash walked down the corridor, trying to figure out where the Gangrel had gon. Krouser was an odd one. Damn near as excentic as he was. He passed door after marked door, until one finally caught his attention. his sensitive cainite nose caught the fading aroma of Vitae, and he turned to the bloody handprint, pulling his finger down the print and rubbing the glistening liquid between his fingers to be sure it was what he thought it was. He looked away, planning to return to the antechamber. As his eyes passed the opposite door, a long metal blade extended from it, peircing him lightly on the forhead. Vash scrambled away from it as the door begain to bend outward, from some within. The sounds of a struggle arose from beyond the door. A massive thump, and a triumphant cry seeped through next. The door flew open, and Krouser limped out . He carried an empty sheath. With his free hand, he pulled the sword out of the door, sheating it under his duster. Krouser closed the door, and looked to Vash, panting. "Lets get back to the others. Theres some first rate weird s*** going on here. I just got into a fight with my dad's old war buddy, and he's been dead over fifty years." ooc/ Vash, please feel free to add any dialog you feel suits. As to everyone else, this is basicly Krouser relating the incident to you. I'm lazy, I don't want to retype. /ooc Stormcaller It seems to me that whatever is going on is much more than just someone with an uncanny ability to carve chess pieces. If only Elijah could remember more about what he saw when he was in that room or what happened while he was there. Turns to KrouserWhat you have told us is most unusual. Would you mind coming with us to discover what is truly going on in this place? ------------------ Krouser *finds an empty chair, as stuffed as possible, throws his duster onto it, and flops down, phychologicaly exausted. for the record, the cuts are visible, and fairly deep, along his arm, leg, and a perticulerly nasty one across his back.* OldanVisuce *kicks the door, and it doesn't seem to want to open* OPEN! *still trying to struggle with the door after another minute, a very silent whimper escapes from Oldan's throat* Is like bad Scooby-Doo episode! Well, ALL Scooby-Doo episode were bad. *looks sullen for a minute and then a violent outburst* Why? All I want is little fun, and everyone trying to screw Oldan! Just once, I like to have fun for more than a couple hours without everything blowing up. I turn into Kindred cause I'm good at what I do. I kill....*sighs and mumbles to himself in Romanian* Get ladies and they always somehow end up DEAD. The one party I don't go to and all Ravnos dead. Have to send ghoul away because I fear for his safety. I meet new friends, and curse follow Oldan to this place. What is wrong with OLDAN? *slides down the wall that his back is to and wallows in self pity* Stormcaller Krouser
|
