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Sanctum Aeternam::The Prince of Atlanta::III. Enter the Noble Dog.
Magnus
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California. Silicon Valley.
The ghoul woke up to the sensation of a bucket of cold water being dumped over his face.
Spluttering, he opened his eyes and tried to focus, tried to will the dull ache away so he could think clearly. He was tied, somewhat securely, to a table. They were made of chain, they were new, they were strong. He doubted he could break them. Out of habit, he tried -- but when he attempted to move he felt a lancing pain in his limbs.
He shrieked as his vision filled with a red haze.
As his vision cleared, he saw a man's face. Dark hair, dark eyes, strong features. He looked familiar... it was the Kindred he'd tried to kill last night. The Kindred he very nearly had killed, if that human hadn't interfered. Now that he thought about it, though, the ghoul was certain he'd seen the man somewhere else...
"I know you, Antos. So I took the liberty of breaking your arms and legs before I fastened you to this table. Don't try and break your chains, you'll only harm yourself further."
The ghoul stared in shock. No one had called him Antos in centuries.
"Oh, yes, I do remember you, Antos." The kindred spoke with absolute calm, as though they were simply discussing the weather. "I'm hurt that you don't seem to remember me, however... tell me, are you still Christoph's favored pet? Does he still lavish you with his vitae the way others will buy choice treats for their favorite poodle?"
Antos' eyes narrowed into slits. This one knew not only his old name, but his master's. Where had he seen him before?
The kindred walked out of his field of view, still talking. "I will never understand why Christoph refuses to let go of the past," he continued. "I have. Rather, I had. He's in Atlanta, isn't he? Beautiful city, especially at night."
There was silence, then the sound of a door opening, and something heavy being dragged onto the floor.
Antos tried to speak. "So you know who I am," he said, his voice hoarse. He tried his best to sound casual and unconcerned. "And you also know my master. Then you should know that doing anything to anger him is unwise..."
A dry chuckle, from his left.
"Why? Because he might try to assassinate me again?"
Antos did not respond.
"Or perhaps me might try and capture me alive, this time, so that he could drink my very soul? I doubt it. I don't believe I'm one of his preferred vintages..."
The man appeared again, and threw a sack filled with something heavy onto his legs. Again, Antos screamed.
"Shhh." The command forced itself into Antos' mind, and the sound died in his throat. The kindred looked at Antos for what seemed to be a very, very long time... then sighed. "You still don't remember me, do you? You were sent all this way to kill me, and you don't even know who I am? Well, perhaps this will jog your memory."
He walked away, out of Antos' view. There was a rustling sound, the sound of blinds being raised, and sunlight streamed into the room. The kindred returned, staring at Antos calmly, casting a shadow over his broken frame.
...sunlight? Shadow?
Recognition. Antos whimpered, eyes widening, as he realized, suddenly, who this person was.
"Magnus?" He could barely speak the word.
"At last, you remember. Your master didn't bother to tell you that the kindred known as Alex Morgan was, in fact, his old friend Magnus... did he? No, I see from your expression he did not. A pity... it leads me to believe you are no longer his favorite. Which will make my message somewhat less effective."
Magnus leaned close to Antos, a trace of anger playing across his face. "Do you realize what you've cost me? For the span of four centuries I have lived in peace. Do you even know what that is, anymore? For the last three decades, I have only had to feed twice. I had almost regained the very thing that had been taken away from me all those many years ago. I had friends. I had a life."
Magnus unzipped the bag resting on Antos' legs and began to search through its contents.
"If it makes you feel any better, you would have killed me last night. It was very well thought-out. Very well executed. A thoroughly competent job. In earlier days, of course, it wouldn't have worked, but... I am a shadow of what I used to be, after all. Dull. Rusty. Weak. The main disadvantage of returning to humanity is that you become... more human. A fair trade, all things considered.
"The only thing you hadn't considered was that a mortal would be willing to sacrifice his life for mine."
Magnus' voice shook with anger grief. "He was a good man, Antos. Not that I would expect you to understand what that means. I felt... blessed, in a way, to count him as a friend. In all my centuries of existence, I have never met his like. I think he even knew what I was -- suspected, at any rate. He was a good man, a great father, a loving husband. To you, of course, and to your damned master, he was simply 'collateral damage.' Nothing more. Well."
"You are going to send your master a message, Antos. You are going to tell him that I will hunt him to the ends of the earth... that I have renounced Golconda itself in order to avenge the death of a man whose humanity meant more to me than mine ever did."
Fear clawed at Antos' mind, and desperation turned to bravado. "I am not your messenger, Magnus!" Bravado turned to hopeless defiance. "I will say nothing!"
Silence.
Again, a dry chuckle.
"Say? I never said you would say anything. I simply said you would deliver my message."
Antos watched in horror as Magnus reached into the bag and pulled out a handsaw. An old, rusted, handsaw.
"You will deliver my message to your master... one piece at a time."
Edited by: NeuroMortis at: 8/14/01 4:49:17 pm
Magnus
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The 1956 Chevrolet Bel Air Convertible sped across Route 66 East, top down. Magnus tried to put the events of the past week behind him, a least for a while, but found it difficult to keep his rage in check. Looking at his speedometer, he realized he'd buried the needle -- again. He slowed down, trying to calm himself, hoping he hadn't hurt his car too much.
The few kindred who still had contact with Magnus always mentioned that for someone who was so fervently distancing himself from his kind, he certainly dressed like a fledgling overcome with the cilche of "Kindred chic." Magnus always wore black: black turtlenecks, black slacks, black boots, black socks, black trenchoats, black t-shirts, black jeans, black sunglasses. And Magnus would always look a bit embarrased, and reply that it's the one fashion that remained consistent in California over the last 5 decades. Still, he supposed there might be some advantage in being mistaken, however briefly, for a young Toreador poseur.
Magnus would need every advantage he could find, no matter how slim they might be.
It wasn't difficult to confirm that Christoph was, in fact, still in Atlanta. It took a few calls, and a bit of convincing one of his contacts that he was, in fact, still alive. It was going to be difficult re-entering this world, he realized. A reputation is useful only when maintained, and his had been degenerating as rapidly -- or more so -- than he had. Still, he was able to confirm that Christoph was still in Atlanta.
And so, apparently, were the Ventrue. And a Toreador Prince, which surprised him. He didn't think any of his "bretheren" would be able to tolerate such a thing, but that was just another sign of change...
Magnus frowned at that, uncertain of how that would play. The Prince was apparently quite... decisive in her activities, and one of those activities involved the immediate and unquestioning destruction of certain kindred that he had a lot in common with. And Christoph, if his sources were correct, had some connections with the Prince... He wondered if the ruling parties were old enough to remember what actually happened at the Convention of Thorns... Would this Prince actually kill Canis Nobile over the quality of his blood?
Probably. He doubted the name would have the reaction it once had -- especially if Christoph had her ear.
Other problems as well. Sabbat. Garou. Both to be avoided. He fervently hoped he would not meet Sabbat on this trip... how can a revolution have gone so wrong?
He slipped into the past for a moment, remembering the stench of burning bodies as older kindred compelled their childer to die for them, in droves, as the Inquisition marched resolutely on... his knuckles gripped the steering wheel, and for a moment he almost felt as if he had the strength to tear it to pieces. For a moment.
He reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a tiny Star of David on a silver chain. He could still feel the residue from the old man's faith... it made him uncomfortable, but Ruth insisted Ibrahim would have wanted him to keep it...
"We've both known purges, it seems," Ibrahim said as they sat on his porch one evening.
They'd been talking about the Crusades, and the Inquisition. Suddenly, Magnus wondered what exactly he'd said, and if he'd said too much...
"What do you mean?" Magnus made the question sound light, casual, trying to pretend that he didn't know that Ibrahim knew.
"Nothing," Ibrahim replied, smiling slightly. "Nothing at all. Perhaps you'd like some more tea?"
Magnus sighed, holding out his glass. He'd be puking it out when he got home later this evening. California, the land of bulimic vampires...
Magnus put the star back into his pocket, feeling it burn slightly against his chest. "I am truly sorry, my friend," he said softly. Then his features hardened.
"There will be a price paid. His life for your life."
The car sped on towards Virginia. From there, 66 East would meet 95 South, which would lead to 85 South, which would lead to Atlanta. And Christoph.
Christopher Yallen.
A creature Magnus hated and despised, to depths of his soul.
Edited by Elijah Robert Marks at: 8/1/00 4:46:55 pm
Magnus
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Evening was approaching when Magnus entered the state of Georgia... by the time he'd reached the edge of the city, it had been dark for some time.
Atlanta was beautiful at night.
The closer you get to the city, the wider the highway gets. The more lights you see in the distance, the more gas stations you see on the side of the road... you get used to the sprawl after a while, and when you see the city itself, you are completely unprepared for it. It was as if the city had learned the Nosferatu way of hiding in plain sight, until you just happened to run into it... and then it was there, an honest-to-God real city, with towering buildings and one-way streets, billboards and buses and cafes. Only it didn't have the dirtiness that so many cities carry with them. It shone in the night, like a jewel. From a distance, it looked beautiful. Clean. Safe.
Only a Toreador could hold this city, Magnus decided. No one else would appreciate that first view, and what it did to you. Magnus expected the city to lose its luster quickly, but that first impression was marvellous.
Driving into the city itself, he felt comfortably lost in the throng of people still active after dark. Altanta must be the least southern city in the South. Don't these people know they have church in the morning?
What to do? Christoph had people in this city, and he was sure Christoph's people would be looking for him. It was only a matter of time before he would be discovered.
What game would he play?
Stealth? Hope Christoph didn't notice one of his oldest enemies as they shared the same city? Or should Magnus present himself to the Prince, risking life, hoping the legend of Canis Nobile could be ressurected just enough to save him from being killed as yet another thin-blooded carrier of the disease that was Gehenna?
Magnus looked at the gladius, wrapped loosely in cloth, sitting on the seat beside him. It had been decades since he'd even thought to take it out. It had needed a proper cleaning and oiling, but the blade was as sound as it had ever been, and he had managed to restore the weapon to its splendour. One of the few links to his past that he had not been able to throw away...
"Looks like you will serve me once again." The thought displeased and thrilled him at the same time.
He drove out to the edge of the city, to a Holiday Inn that had been recommended by one of his co-workers. He'd registered under a new name, of course, and had arranged that his stay be paid in advance a week at a time until he wished it to stop. No sense alerting Christoph by paying for a month in one drop. He got out of his car, collected his baggage (being careful to put his gladius in a duffelbag, obscured from sight but accessible if necessary), and went into the hotel lobby to get his room key.
Edited by Elijah Robert Marks at: 8/1/00 6:09:49 pm
Magnus
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Luggage stowed away in a small but clean room at the Holiday Inn (except for the black bag carrying his sword), Magnus began to drive around the city looking for kindred.
In truth, he didn't really know where to look. He was a relic of a time when secrecy was not as important or as valued as it was in modern nights. He suspected some frequented the nightclubs that mortals seemed to enjoy, and others probably engaged in the time-honored tradition of running down some poor soul walking the streets alone at night.
What would Christoph do?
Christoph would sit in an office somewhere and feed upon his faithful... or have his meals brought to him. Christoph believed very strongly in the virtue thrift -- if he didn't need to spend the energy to hunt on his own, he would not.
Christoph was very old, and as befit a proper mastermind Magnus assumed his lifestyle would be fairly sedentary, preferring to pull the strings of the puppets that did his will instead of doing it himself. Christoph could probably survive for quite some time without feeding at all... Magnus wondered if Christoph had succumbed to the need to feed on his own kind in order to survive. That happened to many, at their age...
He guided the Chevy through main streets, and back-streets, and side-streets, getting a feel for the city and the things in it as much as looking for something to happen. He could be patient, for a time. Things would happen soon enough.
He drove around the city for an hour or so, learning the lay of the land, then returned to his temporary haven in this new city.
Edited by Magnus at: 8/2/00 12:26:45 am
Siegfried Von Hauten
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Knock Knock.
Silence.
"Hey, I saw you come in here. Open up. I won't bite."
A bemused giggle comes from the hallway; a throaty, female voice.. Something familiar from Magnus's past. He can't quite put a finger on it, though.
The voice comes again, slightly more irritated.
"Cmon, I've been following you since we branched off on 95. I swear, the things I do for you..."
The irritation melts away.
"What, you taking a dump or something? Oh wait, nah, you can't do that." Evidently is a person with little social grace.
Magnus looks up. The doorway awaits.
Magnus
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Quote:
"What, you taking a dump or something? Oh wait, nah, you can't do that."
Magnus shook his head. No manners. Quietly, he opened the top of his duffel bag, drawing forth the sharp gladius from its wrapping. He crept over to the door and slowly -- quietly -- turned the latch.
The door knocked again.
"Cmon chief, I feel silly out here talking to a door. Open up, I -- "
The door opened, the door closed, and a young woman suddenly found herself pinned against the inside of Magnus' door, held by her throat as his gladius hovered an inch from her chest.
Magnus remembered her, then. Vaguely. From long ago...
"Talk," he said quietly.
"Do nothing else," he added.
Siegfried Von Hauten
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Her sentence cut off abruptly, she squeals softly as she is pinned against the door, her eyes full of fright.
"Mags! Its me! C'mon! Remember?"
The fear in her brown eyes again brings a nolstagia to Magnus from so long ago, but none of her other features seem familiar. Perhaps her face, round and cherrub like, but her hair is cut short, something very taboo from the centuries before. Her clothing choice reflects that of the 90s, tight blue jeans, a white t-shirt/blouse and a leather jacket. She watches Magnus tentatively.
"The nutso priest? You saved my life...? Ring a bell?"
She gasps for air, awaiting to see Magnus's next reaction.
Magnus
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"I do remember you, Child of Seth. And I knew you as an ally once. But that was 500 years ago... things change, people change, friends become enemies...
"Tell me where you stand, and why you followed me through four states. Just to say hello?"
Edited by Magnus at: 8/2/00 12:52:09 am
Siegfried Von Hauten
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The woman looks at Magnus without blinking, and then swallows.
"You saved me once. I gotta return the favor. You didn't let me do it before, and I figure there's a REASON I saw you on that on ramp. And I knew it was you. I KNEW it! You haven't changed at all... looks wise I mean."
She smiles alittle, and then grins mischeviously.
"I think you just want an excuse to pin me up against a wall. So what the hell are you doing all the way over here? And d'ythink it'd be more comfortable with that huge-ass sword NOT pressed against my chest for both of us?"
The short-haired woman giggles slightly, masked nervousness most likel
Edited by Siegfried Von Hauten at: 8/2/00 1:43:06 am
Magnus
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Magnus hesitates, considering. Finally, he lowers his sword and lets go of her neck.
"I did not 'let' you return the favor, because there was nothing to return. We were fighting a war, you were a comerade in arms. War consists of two things: saving your allies, and killing your enemies."
Magnus stands back, eyeing her critically, then relaxes a bit.
"However, I appreciate the sentiment. And in truth, I can use any advantage I can get."
Siegfried Von Hauten
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She sighs softly when Magnus removes the sword.
"Good to see you're still 'able' with that swordarm of yours. So what the hell are you doin' in Atlanta, of all places? Just sick of driving and need a hotel? This isn't the place I'd stop... It's a friggin warzone here, Sabbat, Cammies, Wolves, Mages, the whole nine."
The somewhat tan-skinned woman runs a sinewy muscled hand through her hair, and motions to the "complementary-table" in the middle of the room. She walks over and, pulling out a chair without the least amount of lady-like grace, takes her own share of hospitality.
"You know me, Mags, I'm always here for ya. You still go by Mags?" She squints her eyes, surmizing the room with utmost curiousity. Then, she turns, her smile broad, plumping her cherrub cheeks into small rosy plums.
"You da man, Mags. What you have in store for us?"
Elijah Robert Marks
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As she says "Mags" for the fourth time, Magnus frowns.
"I do remember you, Catherine. I always admired the way you spoke to kindred -- even to your master, when he was alive -- as equals.
"I did not, however -- " he pauses, glaring at her. "I did not appreciate being called Mags. Do not call me that. I have two names, you may use either."
He pauses, allowing this to sink in.
"I did not choose to come to Atlanta. I am here to visit... an old friend.
"Christoph Yallen."
--------
I didn't hate the kindred; I just hunted them. Then they found me, and then I became them.
Edited by Elijah Robert Marks at: 8/2/00 3:49:42 am
Siegfried Von Hauten
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Her eyes grow somewhat timid. She says, in a voice like a mouse.
"What do you want to be called?"
"And, this Yallin guy.. sounds familiar... He's a big player down here, I think.. Not that I know, I migrated to DC. It was just luck that I caught you where 95 picks up, I guess."
Magnus
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"Magnus is fine. Or Canis, if you prefer.
"Yallin. I need to find him. And I need to know everything I can about the kindred in Atlanta. I'm told the Prince doesn't look favorably on kindred with my... condition. And since I came to this city intending to violate the Sixth Tradition, I need to stay away from her, as far and as long as possible."
Siegfried Von Hauten
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She watches Magnus carefully, shaking her head.
"It's a damn shame. Did you hear what happened to the Ventrue Primogen? Turns out he went insane and they had to put him down like a mad dog- But at least they killed a Sabby in the deal. An awful one too.. A tzimisce of some sort. Oh well... I don't know if I entirely trust the whole thing, but they DID come up with two bodies at least."
The woman smiles, stretching her back, pushing out her chest. It's obvious she wants Magnus's attention.
She looks at him, and frowns slightly, a quick sigh emitting from her lips.
"So Mags---er..nus...Magnus, did you find that "special someone" while you were MIA?"
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Elijah Robert Marks
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Magnus does not answer, looking out the window at the street below. He opens a suitcase and begins to unpack.
"No. Not someone. Some thing."
Silence again, and then:
"It's gone, now, and won't be coming back."
He turns to Catherine again, smiling slightly. He motions for her to have a seat, as he sits beside one of the nightstands.
"A Tzimisce, eh? And the Ventrue Primogen? So who has taken the Primogen's place? And do you know where I might find Christopher Yallin?"
--------
I didn't hate the kindred; I just hunted them. Then they found me, and then I became them.
Siegfried Von Hauten
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Catherine looks around, then meets Magnus's gaze. Her smile lingers, and then she averts her eyes back towards the window.
"I have an idea.... The high-brows of kindred society stay at the real nice hotels uptown. Maybe the Mariot or the Ritz... Hey, maybe he's staying in the Ex-Primogen's hotel. Never know, right? I do think we could check with a buddy of mine. He lives alittle far from here, but it's worth a shot.. Or we could just go hotel-perusing. Whattaya say? Oh, and please, just call me Kat. That's how I go now...."
Her gaze hardens a bit.
"The primogen hasn't been replaced as far as I know, yet. This only happened just alittle while ago. I heard it from a 'contact'."
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
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Magnus nods.
"Kat it is. It suits you."
He stands, wrapping up his gladius, and putting it back in his bag.
"Let's meet this friend of yours. I'm ready to go."
Siegfried Von Hauten
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...She thinks for a moment. It suits me? Huh.
Playfully, she pounces up from the chair and romps over to the door, cutting past Magnus and looking behind, a grin spreading across her face.
"Cmon!"
She nearly dances down the hall, and at the end, she shouts in a sing-songy voice,
"I'll hail a cab, meetcha down there!"
She slips into a nearby elevator, much to the disdain of the occupents and herself as it nearly cuts her intwain, and waves to Magnus as she disappears from sight.
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
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Magnus watched her leave in amusement. Had she always been this enthusiastic? He thought she had, only then... well, those were different times. This seemed a better age for her.
He walked slowly to the stairway and began to descend to the first floor. Perhaps her friend would have more information, he thought. Perhaps her friend would be able to locate Christoph, and then he would be able to attend to business.
Or perhaps she was setting him up.
If Christoph had sent one ghoul to California, who's to say he didn't send another to Virginia to lie in wait? Ghouls need kindred blood to survive, and if she were in a tight spot... and he offered... well, she could be bound by his blood, for all Magnus knew.
That was why he felt so free to tell her, point blank, that he'd come to Atlanta to kill someone. If she was working for Christoph, she already knew that... and now, she would think him naive. If she wasn't... well, he'd seen her fight in the past. He wanted her help.
He stepped out of the lobby and onto the curb, looking for the cab that Catherine -- no, Kat -- had called.
Siegfried Von Hauten
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"Over here! No, here!"
She smiles as she again makes eye contact with Magnus. Man, 500 years... And she still felt it. She wondered if he remembered too, the way she laid near-death, and how he... She smiled as he approached.
"Slowpoke. He lives on 7th and Benning. Lets go."
She slips into the cab and hands the cabby some money.
She watches Magnus with fierce curiousity.
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
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Magnus gets into the cab, feeling the faux leather and the disconcerting closeness of Kat as she doesn't quite scoot over enough to give him room in the back seat. His bag sits awkwardly across his lap, spilling into Kats.
"7th and Benning, Driver. Thank you."
Siegfried Von Hauten
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She looks out the window on her side, and grins.
The taxi swerves in and out of traffic, passing by many cars- Evidently this taxi driver got his lessons in New York City. The pedestrians outside or of the norm, business suits, most coming home from thankless jobs in the middle of the night. A quick pass by a block of restaurants, and then the hotels blur by, people coming in and out, a small group of people walking slowly and talking, and closer still a chaufer and young-lady in a most... revealing outfit. Another 50 feet, cars parked, a motorcycle (poorly) hidden in the darkness, it's rider slowly walking up the sidewalk towards the hotel district. More people make their way amongst the city, but it all becomes a big blur.
And then the cab stops.
"We're here." The ghoul sighs. She was beginning to enjoy the close proxmity of the taxi cab- the bittersweet taste of something she, in the back of her mind, knew she would never have. But she kept torturing herself anyways. Before Magnus could make any move, she lifted into her jeans and pulled out a 20, giving it to the driver. He smiled, and returned the change. Then, in a sudden act of carelessness, the door swung open into oncoming traffic, causing an angry "beep" from oncoming traffic and a loud swerving noise.
The ghoul stepped out, and slammed the door shut, raising her arms to the building.
"And HERE we are!" Almost too loudly. The taxi driver looks at her strangely.
Kat skips over onto the sidewalk, and waits for Magnus, standing near the doorway to one of the more down-trodden apartments.
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
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She'd always been reckless... he remembered a scene from his past... Kat (then Catherine) standing over the broken form of a fallen comerade, left arm dangling uselessly by her side, as one of the Ventrue elite charged her. A hopeless battle, terribly outmatched, but she had exactly the same carefree smile she's wearing now...
"You gettin' out, suh?"
The cabbie looks at him quizzically. Magnus nods, grabs his bag and opens his door, stepping out onto the curb and taking in his surroundings. As the cab pulls away, he notices the sprawl of buildings left to seed.
A good place to live, if you want the rich and powerful to ignore you...
He walks over to Kat, waiting almost patiently, tapping her foot with nervous energy.
"Let's go meet your friend," he says.
Edited by Magnus at: 8/2/00 1:06:44 pm
Siegfried Von Hauten
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Kat smiles, watching Magnus intently. She then turns, pressing the small buzzer near the doorway. A slightly irritating noise goes off.
Five seconds pass.
"What's the password?" The voice is full of static and choppy. It sounds young in origin, almost like an adolescent going through puberty.
"Er.. Open up, jackass?" Kat giggles throatily.
"Close enough." The static continues for a brief moment afterwards, then clicks off. The door buzzes angrily again, and the lock clicks open.
Kat motions to Magnus, but doesn't wait for him. She pushes her way through the door and walkes to the end of the hallway, to the last door on the right.
If one were to surmise the exact threshold of where one could exist in extensive poverty and still be living in an actual residence, and then push beyond that the slightest bit, that would be an accurate description of this apartment complex. Evidently forgotten and weathered by time, the walls chip and erode, the linoleum floor peeling up in different places. A large rat sits at the far end of the hallway, his head peeking out of his rathole, a rebellious sneer on his face as he gnaws away at a piece of some indistinguishable food. Kat seems to pay the scene no attention: Perhaps she's used to this type of thing.
The door opens.
"Sean, you'll never believe what *I* found..."
Kat motions to Magnus, and a boy, no more than 12 years old, peeks his head around the corner. He has dark, medium-length hair that frizzles around in angry torents about on his head. His black eyes seem larger than most, and he takes in Magnus with a broad smile.
"Good. I TOLD you you'd find him. Come on, I have something for you to drink."
The ghoul squealed in delight, and followed Sean in.
The door was left open.
Magnus
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considering the youth's words.
"I TOLD you you'd find him."
Magnus frowned. He didn't like introductions that started off that way.
He stepped through the door, looking for answers.
Siegfried Von Hauten
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In the words of Denis Leary:
"What a shithole."
This place makes the hallway look like a dream come true. Not a space of the "supposed" carpet is shown through grime and unfit living conditions. Fortunately, the undead have very little to worry about that.
Kat stands in the "kitchen" (a small enclave with a sullied (probably) white table that juts out from the opposing wall, lying a mere 10 feet away. She is drinking greedily from a cup, and she puts it down on the table. Her mouth is covered in blood, and a big smile arises.
"So, THIS is the famous Magnus, eh? Hmm... IN-teresting." The boy clasps his hands together. "He doesn't look half as crusty as I would have expected, being so ancient. Well, glad you found your lover again Kat."
Kat's eyes widen, and her face turns as red as the blood she neglected to wipe off her face. She averts her eyes from both the boy and Magnus.
The kid chuckles.
"Eh, I believe introductions are in order. I'm Sean Richards, outcast of clan Tremere... But you can just call ME the oracle. So what brings you two to my door?"
He sits on a ratty couch that looks like it is about to crumble, and smiles.
Magnus
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Magnus stares at the undead 'child' for a long time, not answering.
"Tremere."
The word is tainted with contempt and distrust. It is not aimed at 'young' Sean Richards, however... it is instead focused on a memory.
Magnus sizes up 'the oracle,' and inwardly shudders at the injustice done to him. The thought of embracing a child... of trapping an immortal creature in the body of a 12 year old boy... he could only hope Sean's sire was dead, as justice demands.
And they consider me an abomination? Gehenna will arrive by the virtue of our Cainite propensity towards willful decadence.
"Well, 'Oracle.' Kat brings me to your door. And unless my memory has betrayed me, you were expecting it. So why don't you tell me what has brought me to your door?"
Siegfried Von Hauten
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He watches Magnus warily, his soft grin melting into a stern look of concentration.
"Very well, we will play this game."
He closes his eyes, and they flutter slightly. His mouth creeps open.
"You seek a man by the name of Christoph Yallin. And he lives in this city." Eyes flutter again, not opening, but staying in a slightly dreamlike state. "And he resides at the Mariot, just down the street from here. You seek his doom. But you will not do it alone. And..."
His eyes shudder, and his body looks frail now, like the child in which he possesses.
"And you will meet 3 other people there. And one of you WILL die."
His eyes flutter open, and he grimaces, looking paler than before. A subtle difference, but one nonetheless.
"When it comes, one of you will choose to die. And that will stop Yallin. I couldn't see why... the guy seems to keep alot of mental protection around him. He's no one to screw with. But, if you're adament-- just go."
Kat breaks into the conversation.
"I'm coming."
She looks stern. Adament. A look rarely held by the girl.
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Christoph is at the Mariott.
I will meet three other people there.
One of us WILL die.
"It seems I am in your debt, Oracle. If I am not the one who will die from this ordeal, I will return to see how I can repay it."
He turns to Kat.
"I won't stop you from coming with me -- I need and appreciate your help -- but you have to understand what you're getting into.
"If we fail, we will die. And most certainly, the Prince of this city will have us dead for breaking the Sixth tradition. And Christoph... is old. As old as I am, at least.
"And finally, while I will try to sustain you as well as I can, understand that I must use my vitae sparingly, as it does not come as easily for me as it does for most. Or have you forgotten why I was called Canis Nobile, at the start of it all?"
Siegfried Von Hauten
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Her eyes are not comprehending.
"Y..You never told me why."
She shifts her weight, wiping off the blood from her face with a blood-stained towel in the "kitchen". Sean watches both with curiousity.
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Of course.
"I am sorry, Kat. I forget who knows and who doesn't."
He faces them both... idly curious as to how each will react.
"I am, as far as I know, the first Thin Blood ever to walk this earth. The original Child of Gehenna..."
Siegfried Von Hauten
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Not a movement in the room.
A few seconds pass; Sean and Kat exchange glances.
"Impossible. Nobody with thin-blood could survive for as long as you have."
Sean's reply comes first. He looks startled, incredulous, and surprised.
"That.. can't be. You bound me. Remember? When I was dying, you gave me blood to survive, and it bound me. I still feel the bond to you! Thin bloods can't blood-bound, can they?"
Kat twists a knot in her blouse, biting her lower lip... It grows slightly pale.
"C'mon Magnus, you're pulling a fast one on us, right?" Kat smiles hopefu
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Survival is a matter of intellect and will, not power," Magnus says simply. "Survival comes first. Power comes after. I imagine you know something of this, yourself, or you would have succumbed to the frailties of your own... condition."
He looks at Kat a bit sadly.
"I did indeed give you blood to survive. Perhaps I can blood bond -- honestly, I don't know. It certainly wasn't my intention to do so. If I have, I've commited a grevious sin against you, to do so and leave you in that condition for five centuries."
Magnus looks truly bothered by that possibility, and a bit guilty. Then he looks at her strangely.
"Although, I would think that after five hundred years such a bond would diminish, even as I have..."
Shrug.
"Think back on those times. Surely you can remember the taste of your master's vitae and mine. Compare them... I was older than him, if I remember correctly. So why was his so much richer, fuller, warming? Think on it and you'll realize I'm telling you the truth."
Siegfried Von Hauten
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Sean watches Magnus, testing his eyes to see if the truth is told. He nods slightly; not wanting to invoke his gift again, but he is fairly sure.
"He tells the truth. And he speaks with the wisdom of centuries... An anomoly. Be glad that I have no love for those that made me, or I would be tempted to take you as an experiment of my own..." He smiles somewhat confidently. A trait oft seen in the Tremere, even their shunned childer.
Kat watches Magnus, with the same curiousity. Intent, fierce. She looks at the ground, closing her eyes... remembering.
"I miss him." She looks up, tears in her eyes, and watches Magnus. "We have to go- I have to go. This was a bad idea.... But lets just go do this."
And, without another word, she runs out the door.
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Quote:
"He tells the truth. And he speaks with the wisdom of centuries... An anomoly. Be glad that I have no love for those that made me, or I would be tempted to take you as an experiment of my own..."
Magnus pictures that, looking amused.
"Truth be told, you might actually have a chance... but I would make it my business to make that victory as costly as possible."
He watches Kat exit in tears. Then he sighs heavily.
"The Cainite she served didn't deserve that devotion, and she never deserved the compulsion the blood bond brings. He certainly would not have shed tears over her destruction...
"If you ever create a ghoul, Oracle, don't do it lightly. Remember Catherine, if you have any regard for her. Remember what it did to her."
He follows Kat out the door.
Siegfried Von Hauten
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He sighs inwardly. As Magnus leaves, he gestures with his hand, and the door slams shut.
Kat is waiting outside, hugging her knees. When Magnus approaches, she shoots up, and wipes her face clean of tears and smiles as convincingly as possible.
"Shall we walk? I can almost see the hotel from here, anyways. Just a few blocks down that way."
---
Siegfried Von Hauten
10th Generation Ancillae
Tzimisce Metamorphosist
Priest of the Sabbat
Magnus
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Walking sounds like a good plan..."
He tactfully ignores the tear stains running down her face.
"I don't anticipate much fighting for the moment," he says. "At least, I hope not. However, in the event... are you armed?"
Magnus wished he'd taken the time to familiarize himself with firearms.
"I'm afraid all I have is my gladius, at the moment."
They walk towards the Mariott.
And, perhaps, Christoph Yallen.
Siegfried Von Hauten
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her eyes dried now, rather professionally, she strides besides Magnus, taking a few glances over. Finally, a brief smile whips onto her lips, and she starts...
Starts SKIPPING again.
It was as if the last events had never transpired, and it were already right out of her head.
"Come on, slowpoke."
She giggles softly and, at a quicken pace, stops twenty feet in front of Magnus...
"Ready... Set...."
And like that, she's off like a lightning bolt, towards the Mariot.
(ooc we can start appending this to the 7th avenue discuss
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