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t h e . w a y w a r d - e v e n t s

 

[return to the events page] Sanctum Aeternam::The Prince of Atlanta::V. Enter the City < Previous Page Next Page > Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The buildings have progressively gotten bigger as the small taxi zooms down the streets into the economic heart of Atlanta. It is almost vastly apparent as the number of illicit stores dwindles and more cooth and acceptable areas spring up in the eternal twighlight caused by the numerous street lamps and neon signs. It begins to drizzle from the angry rainclouds above, promising greater rainfall soon to come, and people rush for shelter to avoid the incoming onslaught. The taxi pulls to a stop. The Mariot is probably the largest building on 7th avenue. People bustle about, and a doorman stands at the ready- A young, Mexican man. He checks his watch on occassion, as if waiting for someone in particular. A great deal of commerse goes on here, even so late into the night. There are vendors selling their wares (mostly rat-dogs, or sembelences of hotdogs), and even a few stores still open for business; A gap clothing store, a Starbucks, and a Taco Bell. The rest seem to be either winding down or already closed. The population here, unlike the dregs, is rather sparse. It seems that most people who live uptown have more intellegence than to be out in the middle of the night with what dangers are lurking. A motorcycle follows the taxi, its driver remaining far enough behind to not be linked with it. He stops about 50 feet back, and gets off... And just then... The clouds break, and rain poors down in rivet Edited by: NeuroMortis at: 8/14/01 4:53:03 pm Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho watches as the rain falls. "oh, Grand." his voice drips with sarcasm. "If I didn't know better, I'd say the damnable stuff was following me. I HATE rain." Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "...what about all the lightning, though, hunh? Doesn't Mr. Gozerman typically have lightning shooting out...ah, everywhere?" In the mirror, the blue-haired girl is petulant and wry. Mirrors are good things. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom looked up at the clouds, holding one hand out, as if to catch one specific droplet. "Damn, how'd that happen?" Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Lightening's not so bad. Sometimes, when it first starts, and I don't see it coming, it's almost like my heart starts beating. It's been a long while, Theda, since I've let myself be distracted from my course. I've got to tell you, it feels good from time to time." Clortho lifts one hand and coughs slightly. "What was that address again?" Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Right there," she gestures to the damp paper stuck to the dash just to his left. "...7th and Spring." She gazes out the window at the clouds....then rolls the window down. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom watches the couple in the car. Shrugging his shoulders next to his neck, he jams his hands in his pockets to ward off the rain. "Great...what are they doing? Talking about the weather?" Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho glances at the map, then to a passing street sign. "Should be right around this corner." Clortho turns the corner, and pulls up against the building, checking the address as he does. He extracts several bills from beneth his image. he drops them, one by one, onto the downed cabbie, and turns off the meter. "Fare, damages," Clortho glances at Theda "and tip." Clortho then extracts the keys, and tucks them under the image. In suiting his Chauffer mask, he exits the car, and opens the door for Theda. Edited by Clortho at: 8/2/00 2:10:20 am Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ...she stares straight ahead a moment, her Discman cycling steadily on: "...I'm going slightly maaaaaaaaaad--" Discman prodded off, she loooks to her 'chauffer.' "Gee, Jeeves, thanks for the door. I've got some dead trees in my backyard of you know of anyone with a chainsaw..." She steps from the cab, standing arms outstretched in the rain a moment, the moisture cascading from the slick surfaces of skin and second skin... Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 'Finally', Wisdom thought to himself, 'I though they were gonna be in that damn car all night.' Being as inconspicuous as possible, Wisdom follows the two...shivering, wet and cold. 'Maybe now I'll get some answers.' Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I'll get right on it Madame, as soon as we return to the estate." Clortho somehow manages to keep the smirk from showing up on the mask, but his amusement is evident in his voice. "oh, and as the Cabbie pointed out. My name is Schandor. In case you tire of 'Gozerboy'." Clortho closes the door behind her, and considers. He sweeps off his chauffer's coat (actually his trench), and swings it over Theda's head, to keep her from getting any wetter. he speaks to her in a low voice. "Don't take this the wrong way. I've got to act the part." Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Ah...that part...mmmkay." Stepping slowly. "And I suppose Gozer gave you the script to memorize?" Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom, soaking wet and shivering, followed the pair, maddened by their slow pace. 'Yeah, and I suppose vampires never get cold,' he thought to himself. Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Passing by the doorman without a second glance, through the revolving doors and into the spacious Foyer Grande, she absorbs her surroundings like an interior decorator targeting her next victim. The decorum is quite luxurious, in stark contrast to the man lying soaked in his own feces just a short ride away...a gold/brass motif, with varying shades of regal colors, adorned by massive chandeliers and carpeting bearing a vague Turkish design. She spends some time staring at the carpet, then rolls her head smoothly up to meet the stares of the staff--who either flip the "SMILE!" switch or quickly go about their business--one desk veteran glances at Theda, then searches about for the client this obvious escort accompanies--until she sees the chauffer. She mouths something (amazingwhatyoucangetawaywithifyou'vegotmoney) to another clerk who flits by behind, who gives her a quizzical look, then spies the Rhapsody in Blue. His face spreads into a gleeful mirth behind the whispering woman's back, giving Theda a flambouyantly exaggerated wafting hand to his chest, nodding approvingly, mouthing HOT!, and then back to perfectly staid and businesslike as the upright veteran turns to retrieve more busywork. He disappears into a doorway which expels yet another Marriott worker ant... Theda produces a pack of Wrigley's Extra Peppermint gum from an outer pocket of her bag, unraveling and pushing a single blue stick slowly into her mouth. She then stares down the young man who's about to offer to relieve her of her duffelbag even before he fully commits to leaving the Concierge post. He nods, palms out, (okaysure) and stays put like a good doggy, trying to deny his hormonal motivations. She balls the wrapper between two fingers, flicking it neatly 15 feet into an ashtray. "Well!" She finally states overly loud, then tones it down. "It's nice to see that 'Burnt Sienna' isn't just a Crayon anymore..." Furtive glances. Insouciant chewing of the gum. It cracks loudly. Several times in succession. She then turns to the damp chauffer. "Ok 'Shan-door,' sotto voce. "...who's name we got it under? The chauffer, the Alien God, or the rain-slicked debutante-slash-ingenue slut?" Looking bored, as always, and snap-crackle-pop. Edited by NeuroMortis at: 8/2/00 12:49:41 pm Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She winces slightly, and then looks into the woman she just accidently knocked into. "My mistake." She then takes a closer look at Theda's choice of clothing, and suddenly grows anxious. She presses her fingers deep into the blue folds of her dress, and then smiles disarmingly, as if to dispel a possible situation. "I hope you're alright? I was just not looking where I was going." The woman has curls of red hair about her, and a softened gaze, her pale skin covered with a large amount of makeup, making her look rather artificial at best. She looks like.... a doll. A man approaches. He looks to be aging gracefully, a white streak through his hair, an expensive looking suit. He raises his nose slightly. "Come along, Sara, no need to dottle with the riff-raff." "I just bumped into her. I was just gonna apologize, Eric." "The evening awaits our presense. Let us go." Sara looks over to the man, and nods slightly. She curtsies to Theda, and begins to leave, escorted by Eric. Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mouths a single word: “ Dottle!?!” She turns to look after the two receding figures, opening her mouth to speak—and blows an inverse bubble, which explodes in her mouth. Thoughtfully, absently licking her lips, Theda is quite silent. She looks to Clortho, unzipping her bag and fishing out a fanny pack, which she snaps around her waist. Then, as a second thought, removes the Discman and slips it into the pack as well. The yanks out a pair of blue Converse All-Stars, as she’s barefoot, and zips the bag closed--thrusting it into Clortho’s arms. “Please put this in my room. You can go through it if you really, really want to — but my stuff won’t fit you, trust me-- it only stretches so far.” Pulling on her high-tops. “You might want to figure out where they’re coming from.” And justlikethat, she’s out the door. Into the obfuscation of darkness. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Oh I SWEAR, Sara... You do too much for the man." The lady stops abruptly, and turns to Eric. "Eric!" A motherly chastize, but more in a teasing manner. She speaks, her voice low. "We mustn't talk that way about him. He DID save me from the mad-Primogen, and then put him down, severing the blood bond. And, he's taken ME in as well. Save that, he's almost GUARENTEED your position as the next Primogen." The man in the expensive suit nods. He continues walking, but slows his pace, and looks over his shoulder. "Very WELL. Then where do we make the August ... pick up?" Sara shook her dress and bunched it up in her hands, rushing to get side by side with him. "The docks. Mi'lord said that a man would be waiting for us there... And we shant disappoint him THIS time, shall we?" Eric shook his head. She was tenacious, never dropping the past... He chuckled from the sheer irony of it. "No, we WON'T disappoint Chris." With that, not another word is spoken. The couple hails a cab, and go shooting off into the night. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom thought he'd waited long enough and started heading into the hotel. He assenced the doorman on his way in. The man possessed an unusual life pattern. He stopped for half a second and smiled and waved to the man, taking advantage of the time allowed to more closely examine his life pattern. 'Damn' Wisdom thought, 'that man isn't getting any older.' Scientific curiosity gave way to supernatural curiosity, causing Wisdom to continue on into the hotel lobby, brushing past a man and a woman, both vampires. 'Atlanta's just infested, isn't it?' on their way out. The man's shoes, apparently newly polished, clearly left tracks on the otherwise pristine carpet to the elevator. Glancing at the man's hand, he could clearly see a keycard with "18th Floor" marked on it. Wisdom stepped back politely, 'Mother'd be so proud' to allow them to pass. Then he took up his study of the doorman's life pattern once inside the doors. There was entropy present, but it was stagnant. None of the time flowed within the pattern, as if the man were outside the realm of time itself. His reverie was interruped by the sound of a throat clearing behind him. Edited by Wisdom at: 8/2/00 4:27:17 pm Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After watching the cab 'dottle' off into the night, and debating a moment whether or not to pursue, Theda sifts through the information she's just heard--ultimately favoring the recollection of her bag and surprising 'Chris' at his rendezvous. And as she returns to the hotel, she now re-prioritizes: Her focus is now upon the gentleman she passed on the way out. (Superheroboy.) Now behind him, unseen, unnoticed, she watches his rapt concentration upon the doorman with a little bemusement. (Not Kindred.) (Not ‘Kine.’) (Queer? ) A moment more. (No.) Silent sigh. (Great. Less than two hours and I’ve grown a ‘partner’ and a tail... ...this will not do.) The extremely close clearing of the throat startles him--but not much. As he spins, she's leaning against the window, her head on the glass mere inches behind him, with eyes unreadable dissecting his own. “You, ah, want me to introduce you two? You’d make a lovely couple.” Edited by Theda at: 8/2/00 5:37:36 pm Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom took a second to digest what she was saying. "Ummm...no. Not interested. You on the other hand...," He shook his head for a second, clearing out the lascivous thoughts. Voice of a college professor now, rather than the energetic, bouyant sophomoric voice from before; "His is an interesting physiology. He's not like me, but he's not like you either. Can you explain this?" His head tilts to the side as he awaits an answer....or a slap in the face. Edited by Wisdom at: 8/2/00 5:48:24 pm Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She's nodding oh-so-slightly as he speaks of comparative physiology, eyes narrow, biting her lower lip gently; halfway through his spiel she's staring at his mouth, her lips part, and as he finishes she licks them just in front of her teeth but behind the line of her lips, so only the hint of her tongue is seen--and there's silence until she's sure he knows she knows he's hooked. "Mmmmmmkaythatsnice--Why the hell are you following me?" Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom felt a bit uncomfortable for some reason, but couldn't tell why. "Following you? Who says I'm following you?" Long silence as she watches him, unbelief in her eyes. "Ok, you got me. I'm really not looking for you, but someone LIKE you. Yallin. Do you know the name?" Suddenly cautious; "Perhaps there's somewhere else we can talk." Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Eyebrow raises, utterly isolated. "You want to talk in private? Gee, never heard THAT before." She pushes herself off the glass with her shoulder, scanning the room, tucking blue hair behind her ears. "Yanni, huh? Is he staying here or something?" Fanny pack. Lipstick. Blue. Well practiced casual application. Tucked away again. Edited by Theda at: 8/2/00 6:29:44 pm Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Head tilts the other way. "Yanni? I hate that cra....oh, you mean," exaggerated slyness, "you-know-who. I don't know, but I do know what floor those two that just left came from. Once we've had our conversation, perhaps I'll go and find out." Edited by Wisdom at: 8/2/00 6:22:32 pm Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Mmm. You're just a little nosey parker, aren't you?" They stroll across the lobby. "You do realize that people think you're talking to yourself, right?" Edited by Theda at: 8/2/00 6:30:19 pm Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brow furrows. "Hmmm...really?," shrug, "They'll get over it, look how quickly I did. Where'd ya wanna go?" Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She steps into a ‘private’ phone receptacle—much like a phone booth, but carpeted walls, with only one glass door split to accordion through the middle. “Make a phone call,” She continues, pressing in against the opposite wall so as to accommodate superheroboy. “Pretend you’re calling mommy.” Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom squeezed himself into the phonebooth. Picking up the handset, he turned to face her. "Hello? Mom?" Edited by Wisdom at: 8/2/00 7:23:41 pm Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He radiated heat. She, none. "Allright," The Liverpudlian accent is remarkable in its ability to grate and, conversely, to soothe--among other things. "Let's talk." She shifts to make herself more comfortable. Which makes him a bit less comfortable. Mentally. Physically, he's just fine. Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho considered his situation. My lord, you try my endurance with these trials. Fortunatly, I've the will to endure. He aproched the men's room, located an unused stall, and locked himself in it. Within, he pulled out one of his fake IDs. The one he had registered under. He looked intently at the picture. Hispanic, not mexican, goatee, a little taller. less bulk, sharp nose, widow's peak. no, more pronounced. Hair tied back, good. now the suit. bussiness, buttoned it front. dead black, white tie, and shirt. more shine on the shoes. Perfect. He tucked the ID back under the image, and emerged from the men's room, with a bearing rather like that of a shark. After ducking back to the cab to retreive his luggage, and deposite the keys on the cabbie's inert form, he made his way to the front desk, where he quickly attracted a clerk. "Miguel Defuentes, I beleive I have a reservation." Clortho flashed his fake ID, and the clerk, a middle aged woman, nodded, as she confirmed it. She slid two plastic cards across the counter, one marked with a bronze color, the other gold. He took them, examined the room numbers, and nodded to her. "This will be quite satisfactory. Thank you. I'm traveling with my sister in law, a woman by the name of Theda. Please direct her to the top floor suite when she returns." Clortho moved off, Theda's bag slung over his sholder, and one travel case in each arm. He entered the elevator, and made his way to the top floor, where he identified the room, and entered it. He deposited his luggage at the door, and set Theda's bag, and the gold key card, on the couch. well, Theda would become difficult where I to lock her out. Thank you Theda, You've sucessfully given me an anchor. enjoy it while you can. Clortho selected a chair, extracted a tattered old hardbound book from beneth his image, and settled down to wait. Edited by Clortho at: 8/2/00 7:42:40 pm Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom shivered slightly before control reasserted itself. "Right. So, I know what you are, and I don't hold it against you...so to speak. Now, I'm looking for a vampire named Yallin. He and I need to have a little...chat. I started following you, because, well, 'birds of a feather' and all." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho slaps his book shut in his hand, tireing of the ancient sumerian dialect. The spydery script, the rusted coloring, even the fact that it was in his own handwriting, gave him a monumental headache, just an infintesimal fraction of the headache it had been to write the text in the first place. considering for a moment, Clortho walkes across the room, and picks up the phone. after dialing a long distance number, another expense. good thing I live rent and board free. , he put the phone up to his ear, wincing at the digital shreech of his callee's trademark voice identification security program. "Beta, turn that damn thing off." the screech halted abruptly. a voice sounded across the line. "Evin? long time, nut. What's your problem? hurry it up, I'm kind of busy." Clortho felt like slamming his head against the wall. why can't that boy leave the pentagon systems ALONE! "Beta, I need info." "Who doesn't? shoot." "I'm looking for a man, Christoph Yallin. He should be a resident of Atlanta. A somewhat established resident." "That always makes things easier. I'll dig around for it right after I'm finished here, and get back to you tomorrow night. tah!" the line went dead. Clortho sighed, then looked around for SOMETHING to do. "Why on earth didn't I take up knitting like mom wanted?" Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The door to the front lobby opens, and a short-haired woman comes bouncing -- skipping, to be precise -- through the lobby entrance. Tight jeans, t-shirt blouse, leather jacket, everything about her screams I do not belong here, but she ignores the stares of the hotel employees, and wanders over to a couch in the lobby, plops down on it, almost sprawling, and picks up a newspaper. Theda notices that she's only pretending to read it... The door opens again, and a man walks through... Theda and Clortho notice him, though Wisdom, with his back turned as he converses with Theda, may not be aware of him just yet. He is neither tall or short. Short, black hair. Very dark, piercing eyes. He appears to be in his late 30s or early 40s. He carries himself with authority, with a self-confidence and intensity that suggests he is used to taking matters into his own hands. He is dressed completely in black -- a ridiculous amount of black -- as if he'd forced to watch the Matrix over and over again, all the time being fed drugs that weakened his mind to the point where all identity was dissolved and he became susceptible to every counterculture cliche imaginable. His turtleneck is black. His trenchcoat is black. His pants are black. His boots are black. His vest is black, and the sunglasses that peek out of the front pocket on his vest are also black, as is the military duffelbag he is carrying in his right hand. Which, incidentally, Theda can tell does not carry clothing. The second impression is that he is kindred. He must be, wearing all of that clothing in the middle of summer and not showing any signs of discomfort. Only three types of creatures can wear so much black in one of the must humid months of the deep south and get away with it: vampires, who being dead are immune to such annoyances as heat and cold, teenage gothic punks, who are either so hopped up on speed or so filled with half-formed, teenage rebellious angst that they ignore the comfort by sheer force of will in order to make their fashion statement... and Johnny Cash. It is obvious he is not a teenager. It is equally obvious that he is not Johnny Cash. He enters the lobby and stops briefly, looking around intently. The woman on the couch, Theda notices, is watching him out of the corner of her eye. He glances at her, nods briefly to himself, and walks up to the front desk. Edited by Magnus at: 8/3/00 2:12:36 am Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dropping the magazine on the well-carpetted floor, she dances over towards Magnus, and makes to lean on his shoulder, but thinks better of it. She playfully strikes his hip with hers as she stands painstakingly close to the man, and waits by the front desk. A well-groomed man in his early 30s approaches, a thin mustache and even thinner hair. He is not amused. "Reservation?" He smiles curtly, and looks at Magnus. ---- A knock on the door. Clortho looks up. "Housekeeping." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho looks at the door, greatful for the releif of boardom. He takes a quick once over of his 'miguel' mask, and clicks open the door. "I'm afraid there isn't terribly much for you to do, but come in, I'd apricate some conversation." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She starts walking in, then heistates. "Zat ees odd. Zey tell me zis room needs kaleening. Yet it ees per-fek-tly cleen." She looks over her shoulder at Clortho. "Very vell. I vill keep you ka-umpanies, no?" She smiles mischeviously, and a flash goes through her eyes. Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho forces his grimace of suspision to apear as a charming smile on the mask. something is odd with this one. Could it be? Clortho opens the door, and bows slightly, as he waves the maid in. "Charming accent. French?" The door closes with a resounding -CLICK- as the lock sets. It would be best if we where not disturbed. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Her maid's bonnet loosening slightly, causing her hair to fall down her back in rivets. She giggles slightly. "No, no, no. Eez German. Are you enjoying zee zetay at zee 'otel zo far?" Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- and the man behind the counter can't help but smile back. Magnus leans over, a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye: "I know you're not supposed to do this. I know you're not, so I'll understand if you can't... but..." He laughs, conspiratorially. "Ok, here's the thing. My little brother just got married, and they're on their honeymoon. I know he's in this hotel. I know he is... but he's not using his real name." Magnus leans closer, grinning like a schoolboy. Kat didn't even know he knew how. "See, when we got married" -- Magnus places his arm easily around Kat's shoulders -- "my little brother found out where we were staying and, uh, had a little fun at our expense." His grin is even wider. "I just have to return the favor, and he knows it. So he's using an assumed name, doing anything he can to throw us off. I think he even checked in before they got married. "Look... like I said, I know you're not supposed to do this, but... if you could get me a list of rooms and guests, so that I can figure out which one he's in... I would extremely grateful. Extremely. If not, I understand... but I had to take the chance, you know?" He grins again, looking hopeful. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She looks at Magnus... and decides to take full advantage of it. Swinging her arms around his neck and planting a huge >smooch< on his lips, she lifts a leg up and fastens it to Magnus's abdomen, smiling conspiratorially at the man behind the desk. He watches both with amused fixation, and then, he too, leans in, suddenly chuckling softly; as if the "stick-up-my-butt" attitude just melts away. He watches Magnus, his eyes transfixed in his supernatural charisma, and then leans back. "Alright. Show him what's what, right?" The man laughs, almost reclaiming his own youth, and leans under the table, shuffling around.. THUMP. A stack of papers is produced, two inches thick. "Here. The last 10 pages or so are the people staying here currently.. by law we keep the record for all the people who stayed here from the past few weeks... get this back to me when you're done, you sly devil.." He laughs again, a rumbling laugh from the bottom of his throat. "And you two should get a room yourselves." Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (if that were at all possible) and shakes the mans hand vigorously, passing a nicely folded $100 bill into the palm of his hand. "Don't worry about it," Magnus whispers. "My friends and I put together a 'war chest', you know what I mean? "Look, I'm gonna take this somewhere to look at it, so my brother won't walk out and see me standing in the lobby. That would spoil everything. Is there a side room or something we can look this over in? Some place private?" Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He gestures to an branch that leads off from the main foyer. "Second Door on the Right down that hallway. Leads to a conference room." He eyes the money, and smiles appreciatively. "Oh, and good luck!" As Magnus begins to leave, he begins to become vaguely bemused as to his own sudden kindness.... raising an eyebrow and shrugging. Kat pads on after Magnus, a light bounce in her step. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- out of the sight of the desk clerk, Magnus' cheery, mischevious demeanor disappears, his posture straightens, and he once again becomes all business... though he's still smiling, slightly. He'd seen that particular trick on an old TV show. "Starsky and Hutch," if he remembered correctly. He'd always wanted to try it. He turned into the conference room, and closed the door behind Kat, making sure it locked securely behind him. Then he and Kat started going through the list of names, starting at the top floor and working their way down... Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Perhaps closer than comfortable with Magnus, but by now he's probably used to it), and her eyes flit back and forth on the pages. Flip. Flip. Flip. "There!" Almost too loudly. Kat smiles ecstatically and points to a name. 'Christopher Yallinski.' She scoffs. Not even a GOOD fake name... well, SOMEBODY was alittle haughty. She pauses for a moment. "Room 1810." A brief whistle comes from between her pursed lips. "18 damn floors.. this place is HUGE." She smiles and looks over at Magnus, glad to see a little trace of a smile left on his face. "So, what's the plan, boss?" Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho watched as the maid relaxed. If it is her, she may not recognize me. Only GOZER's smile could bring me luck this good. "German. Of course." Clortho does his best to supress his concern as he crosses the room, to the minibar. "The hotel is satisfactory. Of course, I'm a little jaded, I used to run a hotel myself." He opens it, and makes an act of examining the contents criticly. why is it these places NEVER stock good vodka? he picks out a bottle of cheap whisky, and a shotglass, and closes the minibar. Clortho remains looking at it while he sorts out the archaic pronunciations of his next words. When he looks to her, his voice is serious, weighted with concern, and his eyes are locked on her. He begins to speak in ancient sumerian. "Are you the gatekeeper?" Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She watches Clortho's eyes as he speaks those words. "...H..huh?" A slight disturbance flashes through her eyes- She hisses. "Who are you?" Her accent, as par convinience, seems to have slipped away. Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho relaxes the mask covering his face, allowing it to disolve, but retaining the suit. He abandons the sumerian dialect in favor of his native english. "I beleive I asked you first." Clortho releases the whiskey bottle and shotglass from his hand, and begins to move toward the maid, a dangerous gleam in his eye, though one of an animal preparing to make a strike on what it beleived to be a superior foe. "Are you the Gatekeeper?!!? I command the truth to be revealed in GOZER's presence." Edited by Clortho at: 8/3/00 1:25:50 am Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Well, I suppose we could march up there, I could kick the door in, and we could wind up dead. I don't think that's a good idea. "The oracle said we'd meet 3 others. Maybe I should look for them before I go charging in like a madman..." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The maid looks vaguely frightened, and then steps into action. Her hair uncurls completely, and falls down around her back down to her lowerback. She adopts a fighting stance that looks oddly well practiced. "You want a challenge, MOR-tal? I come here to feed, and I get an insane... whatever you are. You won't feel a thing when I put you down like a mad-dog... For I am Tyra, of clan Lasombra... and *I*" she says lavishly, putting extra-emphasis on the I "am a VAMPIRE! Do you not quake in fear at the thought?" She smiles confidently, and bares her fangs, expecting the man to cower. Edited by Siegfried Von Hauten at: 8/3/00 1:05:24 am Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kat nods, and says the obvious question.. "But WHERE? I don't think those 3 others will just ... go POOF and appear, right?" --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho's gaze solidifies into something less akin to fear, and more akin to rage. He drops the rest of his mask, revealing his dead black garb, and summons up the eyes of the beast. His fangs extend, furthur clarifying his condition. he aproches, like a circling hound. "I beleive I shall give you ONE more chance to awnser my question." From beneth his coat, Clortho draws his Chainsaw, priming it with practiced efficiency. It purrs in grim mechanical imitation of life, and he primes it, letting it serve as his roar. "I am VINCE CLORTHO, keymaster of GOZER. GOZER the GOZERIAN, GOZER the TRAVELLER, GOZER the DESTRUCTOR. Are you the gatekeeper? Yes or no, Choose or perish." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She is no longer confident... She is downright scared. She eyes the chainsaw, and lets out a frightened squeal. And then.... "Yes! Yes, I am the gatekeeper!" She winces in fear and lifts a hand up, positioning herself far away from the chainsaw. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Into the phone, not to me." She adjusts her legs to accomodate more room--his, hers, his, hers. While she's doing this, the strong smell of fresh peppermint on her breath as she chews rhythmically, she's gazing past Wisdom out the booth door--she places a hand on his hip, moving him slightly so as to gain a better view. "Birds of a feather...what about them?" Chews. Stops. Shifts gum in mouth, regarding him. "Oh, right. They... flock, don't they?" Nods. Chewing continues. "Keep talking. Phone. Mommy. Always remember mommy," as she looks out the window again, leaning forward to watch a figure pass by. "...that way, you'll stay sane." Exhalation. "So... Yallin...you want to kill him?" Small pop in his ear as she's leaning forward. Cool suction as the air intake increases sharply with the implosion. The chewing continues. Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho watches this action. "No, you are lying." He throttles back the chainsaw, and lets the red glare die in his eyes. "SHE would not be afraid. You are another kindred, nothing more, nothing less. and to make it worse," He tucks the chainsaw back into his trench, and resumes the image of the bussiness suit. he stops circling, squares up, and looks directly at her. "You're one without the courage to fight back. WHAT is the sabbat coming to these days?" Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The maid-Lasombra looks into Clortho's eyes, and rage overtakes her. "You... you little WHELP! How dare you! No, how DARE you!" Her fists are clenched... her knuckles white. She lunges at Clortho in an attempt to tackle him, which he sidesteps easily. She clings onto his leg and tries to bite through his pantleg to no avail. A primal scream of rage, and she is once up again, and lunges for Clortho's jugular.... --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As she thirsts for his blood, he calls upon it to steady his sure hand. Clortho snaps one of the maid's hands out of the air, and grips it tightly by the wrist. in a practiced movement, he swings under her arm, pulling it with him behind her back, locking her in a bouncer's hold that he had been on the receiving end of more than once, and had made a point to learn. a hold designed for pain, and submission. His other arm completes the hold by locking under her chin, giving him, for the moment, a complete command of her facilties. He tightens the grip on her arm, sending a jolt of pain through her undead body to get her attention. He speaks low into her ear. "It seems, dear lady, that you've underestimated me at every step. I could have carved you easily moments ago, and I could easily sink my fangs into your neck now. The only reason you still have unlife is because I," another jolt as he emphisises his statment. "felt, and still do feel, that killing you would be, and cause me, more trouble than it would be worth. Now, you came to feed, and I can respect that. If you stop trying to hurt me, you can have some from my travel supplies. It's not gormet, but it'll fill you up. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll have to leave!" he jerks her form to face the window, making his intent clear. the sudden movement is accompanied by several new variations of the pain he had already introduced her to. " Well?" Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The man in black passes, the younger in tow. Theda chews. (A convergence. Super. A regular cluster flock.) He heads off in the direction of East Wing Conference Halls with a ream of paper in his hand, bouncy little vamp-chick clinging like a sheet of fabric softener. A ream of paper in his hand. Quick: to the clerk behind the counter-- He's shaking his head from a good laugh...and is coming to realize he has no idea why. (Uh-huh. Thanks, rafiq. I can always count on you... ...pricks.) Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quote: "But WHERE? I don't think those 3 others will just ... go POOF and appear, right?" Magnus smiles at the thought. "You're right, I doubt it. Still, if your friend is an oracle, then we'll meet them whether we try to or not." He stands. "Let's return this list and regroup. If Christoph is here, his security is here as well. And the two of us can't face that... not head-on, anyway." He unlocks the door and steps out, rounding the corner to the check-in table. He hands the list back to the check-in clerk with a smile and wink, as if to say "I'm going to get him, but GOOD." Which, in fact, he fervently hoped would be true. Walking calmly away from the table, he made his way to the front exit, passing the rows of phone booths that separate the check in table from the rest of the lobby... Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deep breath...another...another. 'Damn...sucks to be a lslave to my bodily functions.' he thought to himself. Raising an eyebrow. "Yes, flock. That's what birds do they flock. You know, I've always liked birds....Mommy. Do I want to kill Yallin? My, you get right to the point, don't you? Sometimes that's very convienent." He looks deep into her hair, exhaling sharply. "Killing Yallin is certainly a possibility. Some of the information I have says he needs to be returned to the wheel of life and death. Both for his sake and the sake of those around him. But, I'll make the final determination after meeting him. "Why, he your boyfriend or something?" Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Heavy exhalation into ear. "No, I haven't had the pleasure." She leans forward toward the door as the Dark Man is seen exiting the Conference Room, heading back the man at the desk. He looks like the cat that got the canary-- (Eyes narrow.) --and isn't sure whether he wants it. As she leans, her right leg rocks his balance a bit, moored solidly between his legs. She adjusts, his balance now controlled by her position in the booth--her fulcrum versus his lack of structured positioning leaves her at the advantage. "Let me let you in on a bit of a secret-- the phone--I'd very much like to make the gentleman's acquaintance before you end him. I'm not one for violence, but--" Her chewing much closer, her lips brushing his ear occasionally."--if you must terminate him, let me speak with him first. He has information I need--" She shifts her balance--and he feels it. "--so please: indulge me." A moment of silence: she's ceased chewing, merely breathes. Then, whispered so close as to fill his senses utterly: "Your mommy might suspect something's up if you don't let her know you're still there..." Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As Magnus passes the phone booths, he slows half a step, then stops in his tracks. Something is not right. Kat looks at him, about to ask a question, but he forms the word 'no' on his lips -- without speaking it -- and she refrains. Magnus walks slowly to one of the couches on the other side of the room, and deliberately picks up a copy of US News and World Report, opening it to a random page. Slowly, cautiously, he looks over at the phone booths. There is a young man in one of the booths... talking on the phone, apparently. But he's only taking up part of the space, he seems sort of pushed against one side of it. Not the way a single occupant usually takes up a booth. If there were another person in there, however... He tried to remember how to increase this sight and hearing, to read the auras of the people in this room, and in that booth, but nothing came. It would take a while before he returned to his full strength, he realized. It may never even happen, as far as he knew... Could there be a Nosferatu in that booth with that young man, spying on him? Could it be one of Christoph's men? Could the element of surprise be lost? Wait. Watch. Learn. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom swallows hard. He knows this woman is a vampire. He knows the body pressing against him in some very interesting ways is dead. He also knows it don't mean squat to him. 'Hey, so I'm not prejudiced,' he thought to himself. "I think an accomodation can be made. However, it would mean spending lots of time together. I'm sure you don't want me to have my conversation with him before you have yours. How do you know that I won't...jump the gun...in my youthful zest for balance...Mommy?" Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He knows. He-- --wait. She sees the flash of rapport between the two, the clueless nature of the sheet of Bounce, and then-- He walks away, deciding instead to (You're gonna read the PAPER? Oh, yeah, okay; after you find his ROOM you realize you just can't go on without reading your HOROSCOPE first, right?) check on current local weather and events. "Okayyy..." Whispered unconsciously--she feels Wisdom draw breath sharply, realizes she's spoken. "...sorry. How do I know you'll be able to control yourself?" Her other hand covers his free ear. A moist whisper: "Let's just say," Every 'S' and 'L' overemphasized."...you've convinced me." She slowly aids Wisdom in regaining his balance, pushing ever-so-gently up with her legs...keeping her eyes glued on the Dark Man. Their eyes meet, though he cannot see... Edited by NeuroMortis at: 8/3/00 3:42:24 am Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "What is going on, Magnus?" Kat whispers in his ear, again a bit too close for comfort... but he's starting to get used to it. "Not now," he says, trying to move his lips as little as possible. Something strange there. That young man looks... acutely uncomfortable, he's very distracted by something. Yes, someone else was definately in the booth with him. Someone he couldn't see... so he assumed it was another Cainite. He casually bent over and picked up his duffel bag, keeping the gladius within easy reach. He'd rather not have to fight in a public place, for so many reasons... Edited by Magnus at: 8/3/00 3:43:15 am Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom notes her change in behavior. Ever so slight. Extending his consciousness outward in a circle, he picks up the life and entropy weavings of reality around him. Here a strand of life, there a tapestry of entropy, near but forever separate...except for the woman pressed against him and two people behind him. He catches her eye, small divot between his brows. "What, are you guys everywhere? More vampires? Sheesh." Edited by Wisdom at: 8/3/00 3:44:23 am Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Stand and stretch, then hang up the phone. Then, open the door, realize you've dropped your wallet," His wallet hits the floor softly. "Then return for it, LEAVING THE DOOR WIDE. After this, I want you to remember what it's like to lie puking in an alcoholic stupor, but the good part before you realized you were stupid enough to drink so much you'd poisoned yourself. Then, act accordingly--as though keeping your feet were a difficult, tedious process. Draw attention to yourself--but subtly. Don't overdo it or he'll know. Understand?" (Of course he does. He's another damned OLIVIER. Just look at him!) "...on my mark." She slips up onto the seat: 5'4" has it's advantages. "... go." Edited by Theda at: 8/3/00 11:24:44 am Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom concentrated briefly, severing nervous input from his legs as he bent down to pick up his wallet, shuffling from foot to foot. Slowly, he decreased all nervous response except that of the tingling sensation you get when your leg falls asleep. He spread this feeling throughout his body and staggered out in a rough approximation of a drunk. Having been drunk before. Especially during rush week...ALL of rush week, he pretty well knew how to do it. Combined with his lack of feeling throughout most of his body, and he could shufflestagger with the best of them. So, weavingshufflingstaggering, Wisdom made his way out of the phonebooth, leaving the door open. Edited by Wisdom at: 8/3/00 2:01:01 pm Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus saw the young man stagger out of the phone booth, go back for his wallet, and somewhat unsteadily weave his way across the lobby, carelessly leaving the booth door open behind him. Drunk? Or had someone else drunk from him? Unfortunately, there was no way to tell at this point. He hadn't really looked drunk earlier... his discomfort seemed a bit sharper than the effects of inebriation usually permitted. Still suspicious. No proof. Wait a bit longer, then. Still, Magnus felt that if there had been someone (or some thing) else in there, it was probably gone now. Something gnawed at the back of his mind, but he couldn't coax the thought out into the open... Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As the booth door first opens, before Wisdom has turned to retrieve his wallet, before the glass has pulled all the way to the wall, she uncoils. (Springing lithequick over and out, roll and up and through the lobby out the front door past the couple entering even as the doorman grasps the handle and as his focus is on them she flicks hands through the fountain and head to the rain and) Hurrying to catch up to the open door, she catches the doorman's eye with a smile, who gives a quick 'oop!' gesture with the face and retains his hold upon the handle, allowing her entry. She's wiping her face free of the copious persipiration mixed with rain, chewing blue gum under quickened breathing, looking anxiously about the room-- A man in black reads a magazine. A teen loiters somewhat anxiously throughout the lobby. A drunken man exits a phone booth, pocketing a wallet groggily. She pauses to turn off her Discman, wiping her brow, stretching her neck and moving blue locks of hair behind her ears. She moves to the front desk, grabbing each foot in succession, stretching her calves as she singles out the clerk who'd given her the 'thumbs up' earlier. "Yeah, my brother registered us here 'bout (snif) half an hour ago--name's Theda...sorry about the counter, there..." She attempts to wipe it free and only succeeds in smearing more moisture on the polished surface. Looking for all the world like a fitness freak too disciplined to know how undesirable hot and wet is. Edited by NeuroMortis at: 8/3/00 3:40:55 pm Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom staggered toward the elevators, pressing the button for 'UP'. He leaned against the wall next to the elevator and waited. As soon as the elevator arrived, waited for a second to see if anyone was getting out. Finding the car unoccupied, he got in and pressed the button for the 18th floor. Inside the elevator, he stopped the effect of the numbness and concentrated on his senses. Reaching out with his mind. Once the elevator dinged , he got out and started walking the halls, looking for that entropyunlife he's been finding more and more of recently. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A squeal, and she surcumbs to the man... and her cries die down, a whimper, soft, of defeat. She nods weakly, and composes herself. "I will search elsewhere. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you. I am just a humble fledgling in your prescence, keymaster. I surcumb to your will. Thank you, sir. Thank you." She looks at him, her lips drained of blood, a wincing smile of apology on her face. --- Kat watches Wisdom suspiciously. "Whattaya think about THAT, huh?" She turns to Magnus, a brief smile creasing her lips. "I say we follow the poor schmuck." --- The 18th floor. Wisdom pads down the carpetted hallway, doors of archaeic design.. It is as if the Mariot said "screw you" to contemporary, and decided to build a floor dedicated to an earlier, simpler time. He stops- He senses it. Entropy to the extreme. It almost numbs his senses... A vampire. An old one. A POWERFUL one... behind the door. He looks up. Room 1810. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus nods. "Looks like we may have to take the direct approach after all... let's go. Up the stairs." He speaks softly and quickly. He and Kat get up and head for the stairwell. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Her choice of garm amuses him, and he touches his mustache. "Oh yes... THEda." A smirk creases his face, deeper than before. "Yes, your brother... Here." He hands her a keycard, flinching as she grabs it up. He begins to think of offering her a place at the formal banquet next evening, but thinks better of it; a sarcastic comment as such might actually provoke her TO attend it. Theda looks down. Room 2038... Alot of stairs, or a brief ride in the elevator. --- The duo begins its romp up the stairs... 1st.. 2nd...3rd... They begin to blur, Kat leaping three steps at a time (Atheltic and energetic little bugger she is), Magnus following behind, just the way she likes it. If Kat begins to tire, there is no way of knowing, save a soft breathing.... 14th... 15th.... 16th... 17th... Kat stops, Magnus nearly bumping into her. She looks over. "There." Pointing through the glass-pane, the "drunk" stands, stiff as a board, twenty or thirty feet away, down the hallway. Kat turns to Magnus. "And I DON'T think it's a coink-i-dink that it's the 18th floor, either." Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Observing the bank of elevators--and the lack of Wisdom. Three elevators. 2 present. One, above, and stationary. Soon, a second climbs quickly to the obvious destination, her room key tucked into her very lucky fanny pack. Edited by Theda at: 8/3/00 4:08:05 pm Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quote: "And I DON'T think it's a coink-i-dink that it's the 18th floor, either." "Definately not." Magnus opens his bag and grips the pommel of his gladius. It was almost time. "Not a coincidence at all..." The man certainly didn't look drunk now... Magnus watched him silently through the tiny window on the stairwell. "Get ready. We'll have to wait until he enters the room, or Christoph will know we're here..." If he doesn't know, already... Edited by Magnus at: 8/3/00 4:14:59 pm Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ding. Wisdom's rapt concentration breaks, and he looks over his shoulder at the elevator. Nobody seems to step out, but Wisdom smiles slightly anyways. --- Theda catches his eye, and her eyes quickly flit over to the room he's standing in front of. 1810. Would make as much sense as any OTHER room on this floor. --- (It is a possibility that Theda notices Magnus and bouncy-girl, but that would be if she was particularly looking for such things, on the opposing end of the hallway) Edited by Siegfried Von Hauten at: 8/3/00 4:34:06 pm Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She eyes the man quizzically, beginning to step out. Then balks at the floor number. "Oh, hey, this is eighteen..." Her eyes catch his, then jump to the other end of the hall and back. She smiles nervously as she steps back in, rechecking her buttons. " Duuhhhh...." She grins until the elevator doors close, then stabs the next button. 19. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- as he saw the blue-haired woman step out into the hallway, realize it was the wrong floor, and then get back into the elevator. He had no idea what had happened to Christoph. Was he losing his mind? At the very least, he would have thought Christoph would have made his floor accessible only by a private stairway and a special key in the elevator... and have guards in the hallway outside his room... and some kind of security system. He had the money for it. Still, Magnus saw no sign of any of these things. Was Christoph losing it? Or had he become so arrogant in his time on earth that he believed no one would dare show up unannounced? Or was it, as Magnus was beginning to fear, a trap? Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom watches the vamp vampire duck back into the elevator. He notes the floor it appears to stop on. 19th. Then it continues on to 20th. 'Rats. She does like to go hard on a guy...course, I'd be willing to return the favor.' Wisdom stifles laughter at his own joke. Reaching into his pocket, he take out a bottle of prescription amphetimines. He quickly downs two...thinks...and downs two more. He puts the bottle back into his jacket and smooths out his shirt, feeling the soft reassurance of the Kevlar beneath. Steeling his nerve, he waits until he feels the blessed rush of vigor. He raises his hand to the door and prepares to knock. He takes a moment, envisioning the neurons in his own brain. The outer set fire synapses steadily, shielding him from outside influence. Suddenly feeling the drain of the multiple effects, he stays his hand to set the changes to his pattern in his mind, until maintaining it is easier. Not easy, but easier. He again raises his hand to knock on the door. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Come in." The voice is powerful, showing signs of intelligence, wisdom, and age. A dark figure sits on a plush and extravagant chair, a throne, it seems, and, though only a silhouette can be seen... Wisdom knows his eyes are upon him. "And you would be?" --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A moment of thought. Another button, 20, punched. Two kicks and the ambient lights are out, plunging the elevator into darkness. The doors open with a soft ding on 19—and no one steps out of the dark cubicle. Moments later, the bleary eyed man in suite 1910 shuffles to the door. “Awright, AWRIGHT, hold your potatoes I’m COMIN’!” Muttering to himself, bashing his toe into the unfamiliar nightstand, “GAAHHHHHHyousonovawhoremongerHANG ON I’M HERE, I’M HERE!!!!” He yanks the door wide, fire eyed and— Nothing. Stepping out, the hallway empty, his toe throbbing, he’s trying to comprehend as he loses consciousness and falls, quite bizarrely as it is a very SLOW fall, back into his room, where the door shuts softly. Theda stands upon the short balcony in the rain a moment, then leans out over the abyss, grabbing the lower edge of the railing and nimbly, slowly, flipping herself over and down, controlled as clockwork, until her lower body hangs a few feet above the railing of the suite below. Still invisible to the world, reversing her grip and turning around, she lifts her legs perpendicular, allowing gravity to grab them again, and releases her grip as she swings and lands, oh-so-softly, on the balcony of suite 1810. Then, out of the fanny pack, comes the blade. An Indian ‘katar’, a punch dagger inlaid pommel to tip with silver: Kali’s Fang. To the Kindred body, agony. To the Kindred heart, Destruction. And it is slipped into a rear sleeve in the pack, readily available at a moment’s notice. She listens—waiting. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Ok," Magnus hisses softly. "When we go in, try not to hurt our 'drunk'. He's the first-string running back for Georgia Tech -- I don't know why he's dealing with Christoph, but he's obviously in over his head. On my signal. Go." The young man -- Wisdom, Magnus now recalls -- steps into the room, the door still open. Kat and Magnus slip through the doorway, moving silently to the side of the door, backs against the wall. No sound. Wait. Listen. Assess. Soon: Strike. Edited by Magnus at: 8/3/00 5:28:39 pm Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom paused for words, then entered the room. A flicker of preternatural awareness and out of the corner of his eye, he notices the seductive woman drop to the balcony, weapon in hand. 'Hmmm...the lie, the truth...the lie, the truth...,' he asked himself. "Mr. Yallin, I hope I'm not taking too much of your time here, and I realize you're a busy man, so I'll be brief," Wisdom said, sitting in one of the chairs. "How long do you intend to remain in Atlanta? And how long do you intend to deal in poison?" Edited by Wisdom at: 8/3/00 5:37:28 pm Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ok, fine. Wisdom isn't working for Christoph. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Somehow, Wisdom notices, he smiles. Even in this fading darkness, the only light striking in from the moon and onto the back of the large man... silouhetting his chair, his shoulders... his face. He is wearing sunglasses. Even in this immense darkness, he is wearing sunglasses. He watches Wisdom carefully, and lifts up a powerful leg, crossing it at a 90 degree angle with his other. A chuckle. It sounds friendly, benevolent, and evil at the same time. It is most disconcerning. "I plan to stay here until this city returns to its RIGHTFUL owners- The Camarilla has long-enough struck a blow at us, and they..." he leans forward, slamming a fist into the chair. "THEY hide our true nature. So you seek why I deal in poison, then? I deal in poison of the physical, for profit... And MENTAL for victory. So, come, let us discuss WHO you are, and how you may be of service to me." --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Edited by Siegfried Von Hauten at: 8/3/00 5:39:46 pm Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom's eyes go sad. His shoulders stoop slightly. "That is indeed sad. That such an ancient being as yourself hasn't realized the truth that lies beyond power. "There are others that will wish to speak with you soon. "However, you will never find me to be of service to you." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Speak quickly.... are you neonate? Or perhaps not childer of Caine at all.... Oh, let me guess.... The pathetic assassin the Calls have sent to destroy me. I would have thought stealth would have been an attribute that you would have perfected.... I was waiting for you to drop in through the balcony doors, and attempt to slit my throat with a dagger of some sort." He sighs, a small laugh. "They don't make Assassins like they used to." He watches Wisdom intently. "State your business, then... And remember, you are in MY demense.." --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hello, Christoph. Goodbye." A shadow in the doorway. Magnus stands silhouetted in the light from the hallway, gladius in hand. "I'll see you in Hell." Suddenly, Magnus is motion, launching himself towards the shadowed figure of the Cainite on the throne, Gladius poised for the killing strike. Immediately after he enters, Kat appears in the doorway, .45 aimed at Christoph's head. The dance begins. Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The rain touches the edge of the balcony, the residual mist settling on the still figure regardless of her intangibility. (Ahhhh, I LOVE the du'at who fixed me up with this gig. Comedy of Errors meets Divine Comedy. Priceless. All we need now is Suzanne Somers and we've got ourselves a hit...) Motionless, she waits. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "What is TH--" The gladius meets its mark. Christopher Yallin lets out a yelp of pain as, though he moves to manuver from his chair, gets a gladius-mid-swing into his right shoulder. He then levels his eyes, sunglasses now flailed unto the ground, and sees Magnus. "Mag...nus...? You... You came!" between clenched teeth and waves of pain, he laughs. But it is short lived... Kat's gun clicks--- the bullet never leaves the cartridge. Her gun is on the floor... A hand has struck it down. And then, a hand on Magnus's shoulder, seeping around... around his neck. Another hand on his arm.. on his gladius. On his face... Pulling back... He drops to the ground. "YOU... think that you can.... DEAL with me as such? You fool...." A wince.. His shoulder bleeds uncontrolably. "You are in MY domain. I control the darkness of night ETERNAL... I am your lord now.... and, I give you an opertunity to claim me as you single God before I order the darkness to snuff you out entirely. You were a fool to come here..." And, throughout his excrutiating pain, and hatred... He ignores Wisdom. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "No," Wisdom says, watching the newcomer fly by him, "I am not an assasin. I know not the Caine you speak of. I am the balance. I serve the hand that seeks growth in the universe. And you, wretched, despised creature are a cancer that needs expunged." 'This is ridiculous. Probably the most powerful being I've met to date, and not only am I provoking him, I feel sorry for him.' Wisdom watched events unfold in sadness. Edited by Wisdom at: 8/3/00 5:59:07 pm Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (I knew it.) As the Dark Man makes an entrance, so does she. Relying upon the distraction, she avoids the conflict entirely, taking up a position atop the dresser, Kali’s Fang unsheathed. Utter calm. Stillness. She waits. Edited by Theda at: 8/3/00 6:36:08 pm Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blood gushing... Another agonizing moment, it seems to stiffle, then enflame... He looks at Wisdom. "Y..You're doing this, aren't you... Y.. you bastard..." He looks down at Magnus, his jaw clenched, and then towards Wisdom... The darkness receeds and engulfs... Touching upon Wisdom.. A reflex, and the darkness is cut free from his arm, but Yallin is not done yet. He watches both, and then... turns to get a better angle. And his bare-neckflesh is displayed, in all its glory, from Theda's vantage and hiding spot. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- No further quarter is necessary. The blade strikes home. And deep. Down and across, deeper, the geyser erupting and spraying full and hot—into a fright mask invisible. Theda appears in horrific glory, drenched, already falling with the sundered to the floor. And she appears to be in rapture.. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 'Why', Wisdom thought, 'why did a creation with such potential have to waste himself? Now at least, he has another chance at life.' "Finish it," Wisdom says, turning away. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yallin's eyes widen. The darkness receeds around Magnus slightly, then falls limp... like it died. Darkness dying? And its attempts to grab Wisdom subside. And that darkness falls limp as well. Magnus twirls successfully, breaking free of the grasp of the impending darkness.. His eyes set with vengence on Christopher.... And yet, there is something in Christopher's eyes... The color fades away. His right eye becomes yellow, tints of orange, like the sun setting... His left, like the brooding stormclouds.. His visage is that of a demon from the outerworld of hell. "Y..You forsake... me?" His question is directed at a higher being... And he turns around, blade wedged between his spine, blood spilling forth in glamorous tumlets.. Magnus hesitates. The job is already done. Blue-haired girl stands , her face in sudden rapture, the knife imbedded quickly in Yallin's spine... And he connects his eyes with hers. For a moment, she gets a glimpse into hell itself. And then, his arms descend upon her, a fatherly hug... 'I forgive you' he seems to mouth, like to a child who destroyed her innocence in one, cruel act... And then, the death reaches back into the world of the living. The sudden twist of the limp and destroyed darkness enflares into and around him... And around Theda. Her eyes widen slightly... A painful stab of light from the otherwise darkened room, then darkness again... deeper than any shadow imaginable on earth. And Yallin is drawn to it, like a vacuum... But his tentacle of darkness remains, on Theda's right leg. "Don't let me go.. Don't let me die..." His voice is like a child. His soul forfeit, he now descends. And the rift pulls him in. Theda trips and falls, her leg caught with darkness incarnate... and she, herself, starts to be dragged towards the rift. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Turning around and taking in the scene, Wisdom springs...moving beyond speed. He rushes into action. A white flame erupts around his right hand, coalescing into an argent gauntlet. Valiently, he tries. Desperately, he pulls. Ultimately, he fails. Edited by Wisdom at: 8/3/00 6:56:53 pm Theda -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In a daze, inebriate, the vitae sweet within, she comes to understand that all is not well. Even still, the discipline takes over, slashing, rending, guttering with Kali’s Fang at the grip, the mind reorganizing— (Howbadisit) Grasping for purchase, flexing, wresting, all manner of jointlock counters employed and futile, she regards the situation simply. (DamnyouDu’at) Arching, rolling, the table goes over, the chair does not hold— She has never cried for help. (Gotohell) Never. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The darkness pulls... Theda scrambles, grabbing for something to hold on to. Acceleration... The shadows pull her... FOOM! And, whatever lay at the end of that shadow-tentacle seems to drop at inhuman speed, pulling Theda at a faster rate. Her body rubs up against the carpetted floor.. then across the tiles.. Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak... And, her mouth opens... dry, parched... She looks Magnus, then Wisdom, then Kat, fiercely in the eye... A final breath, and she slips into the void. But something was said. It comes back loud and clear now.... "I hate Atlanta." --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The woman is being dragged into the rift that has already consumed Christoph. Magnus lunges forward, trying to reach her before it is too late... ...and trips on an overturned chair. He falls to the floor, watching helplessly... Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom looks up after feeling the last of the darkness slip through glowing fingers. "Damn, I lose more women that way.", said sadly. The light on his hand fades away slowly, as he looks up at Magnus. "Have we met?" Edited by Wisdom at: 8/3/00 7:37:56 pm Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho lets her slip from his hold, and steps back, still wary. "It is as well. I hate waiting, and you ARE a welcome distraction, Tyra. I could as well call you a gift from GOZER," He smiles lightly at the thought. "But then, you'd deny that you'd been manipulated, I'd try to explain that the WILL of GOZER guides all, and it would degenerate from there." the thought ends, but the smile remains, to a degree. "I would like to converse with you in a less... confrontational manner. Please, return after you have feed. Perhaps we can erase any poor impressions this incident may yet leave upon us." He moves to the door, opening it, and bowing slightly. "May GOZER smile upon your hunt, Tyra." Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus stands, looking at the now-empty space where Christoph and his assassin were dragged into... somewhere else. He looks over to Kat, making sure she's all right, then walks over to where his gladius lies on the ground, still stained with Cainite blood. He picks it up, pulls a rag out of his trenchoat and methodically cleans the blade in a practised rhythm. Quote: "Have we met?" Magnus looks at the young man, almost for the first time. He shakes his head. "I saw you in the lobby, in the phone booth. I assume you were talking to..." He gestures at the empty space. "...her. And I've seen you on television. But that's it." He looks at him steadily. "What are you doing here? You don't strike me as much of a ghoul, so why is it you work with our kind? And where is the other one? "If we want to get her back, we'll have to move quickly." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She is speachless... Her lips chap, and then she nods vigorously. "T..thank you." Without another word, she scurries off down the hallway. She doesn't stop to look back.. Chances are she won't be feeding TONIGHT. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho glances down the hall as she leaves. "Poor girl, I fear I've scared the wits from her." He ducks back into the room, and leans against the door, leaving it open. "Now where in the SLOR is Theda. Karma says, she should have been right outside the door, ready to berate me for my actions, AND prepared to fold my ears about how I locked her out." Clortho ducks back inside, picks up the key cards, and opens up one of his travel cases, removing a bag of frozen blood, and draining it slowly as he reconstructs the Miguel mask. He starts to move for the door, then halts. "If I know Theda.... She's probably gone and done something foolish. And she'd probably appriciate a change of clothes after she cleans up after herself." He turns around, picks up Theda's bag, sinks it under his mask, and leaves, locking the door behind him. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom wipes his brow clear of sweat. He can smell an unusual scent in the air, that of old, rotten leaves, of his older sister after she electricuted herself in the bathtub, of his grandmother's death. It was the scent of the Shadowlands. The land of the dead. Wearily, he stood and faced the man who assisted in the fight, smiling sadly. "My name is Mike, but you can call me Wisdom...everybody does." Edited by Wisdom at: 8/4/00 1:18:07 am Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Very well, Wisdom... but I'd still like to know what the first-string runningback for Georgia Tech is doing here." Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Watching the wrong people slip to the lands of death. "But that's not the answer you're looking for, is it?" Wisdom slumped down into the chair recently vacated by the departed Yallin. "I imagine you heard my conversation, so to answer your question, I am here to help restore the balance to Atlanta, so I'd imagine. It's been in my dreams lately, and I get the impression that Yallin is only the start of my task. "I'm not sure what a ghoul is, beyond the stories told to me by my grandma, so I'd guess I'm not one. "Now, vampire, what are you doing here? And I did notice that you obviously have great taste in your Sunday afternoon entertainment, you left out your name." Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "My name is Magnus. I came here to kill Christoph Yallen." He looks at the place where Theda disappeared. "And now it appears I have another debt to repay... "Where is the third?" Edited by Magnus at: 8/4/00 1:40:25 am Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kat shifts her weight... The sudden calm is refreshing, but eerie at the same time. She eyes Wisdom up (making no motion to hide it at all), and then looks back towards Magnus. "Yea... What the hell.. The oracle was wrong. There were only two.. Now ONE." She frowns slightly. "That would be the first time... I've never known Sean to be wrong..." She twists a knot in her blouse, and watches Magnus's eyes expertly. And then... a figure appears at the door. Two figures. They both gasp in astonishment. "What.. What happened to Master Yallin?" A man and a woman, both dressed eloquently. And they wait for an answer. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I don't know. I heard screams and came running. No one was here. Weird, no?" Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus looks at the two new faces warily. "Christoph Yallen has met the fate of all infernalists -- his masters came for him, and he... left." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Her dress flowing like a ripple of water behind her, searching for signs of Christopher Yallin. Her face is streaked with sudden worry, and terror. The man, however, does not look as well subdued. He watches Wisdom carefully. "And... the door was just... OPEN? How did you get in here? And WHO are you?" He paces suddenly, keeping himself between the group and the doorway. And then he looks at Magnus. "I see... Two DIFFERING stories. Care to come forth with the truth, hmm? Infernal denizens don't just POP up every day..." Kat bites her lip, and looks at Magnus, deciding to keep her '2 cents' out of this one. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho emerges from the elevator, into the lobby, glancing about for a familiar face. no, no, no, Lord GOZER, I've not the faintest idea where to start. He HAD to chose Theda, if only to try me. Milord GOZER has a quirky sense of humor. Okay, I remember HER. He steppes up to the front desk, motioning to the middle age woman that had served him earlier. "Miss, has my Sister in law come in." Clortho's heart sank as she shook her head. So much for his hopes of a simple night. Yeah, she ditched me at the first opportunity. I must commune. He turned away sharply, and returned to the elevator. not twenty minutes later, he had returned to the top floor. after retreiving a slender rod from his travel bag, he begain to wander the halls. There has to be a roof access somewhere around here. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom looks at Magnus with suspicion. "Hell, I don't know. He was here when I got here. Ask him. So, what praytell, is an Infernal Denizen? And Infernalist? "You guys are too weird. I'm going back to the frat house." With that, Wisdom starts walking for the door. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "What you see are two different people, two different minds, and two different paths. Do you expect our stories to be the same?" There is a hint of anger in his voice. He notices the woman's distress. "You seem to know what I'm talking about, lady... at least, on some level, you suspected, did you not? Did you also know he was Lasombra, and Sabbat?" Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He watches Wisdom, but makes no movements as he approaches. Wisdom comes to a slow... then a halt before him. "NOBODY leaves. Not yet. Not two in one week. First the Primogen, then the Bishop. Who's SIDE are you on, Siegfried? WHO's side?" He looks at Wisdom, seeming to address him. "This is a war. There are only TWO sides to choose. You can't go around killing indiscriminately. I will put a stop to it. SARA!" The woman looks up, a non-existing-tear striken face, nodding weakly. "STOP moping. Come back me up, here." He turns again, intent on Wisdom, licking his parched lips for a moment. Sara watches Magnus as his words connect. She averts her eyes, looking ... disgraced, of all things. "Ooo hooh yes... she knew. We all knew." The man watches Sara return to his side. "BUT, the question is... WHY did you know? If you just found him be taken away by infernal denizens, how on EARTH would you know that he was Sabbat?" He taps his foot, and Sara grabs his hand for support. "Weak, weak woman. Pull yourself together." Sara nods weakly, and straightens, looking the group in the eye, one by one. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Magnus responds, his voice is very, very quiet. "The young man there," he points to Wisdom, "is the one who said 'he just walked in.'" He waits for the inference to sink in. Then, for the terminally slow, he clarifies: "I did not." Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom's brow creases. "Primogen, Sabbat. Greek. I don't know squat about what you're saying. "And a war? What in the name of God are you talking about. I didn't kill anyone. I'm in Pre-Med. I save lives..or I will when I finish Med School." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The gentleman's eye creases, he rubs his elbow gently under the many layers of business suit. He eyes Wisdom suspiciously. "Perhaps... but he now knows too much, as is. The masquerade is vital to uphold, even for us... And, in order to make an omlette, you HAVE to break a few eggs, right?" He smiles at Wisdom, and motions to Sara. "Now, shall we do this civilly, or shall I be forced to draw weapon? It IS too late for this unfortunate mortal, but not for you, if you confess yourself completely to us." Sara seems to understand the motion, and she walks up to Wisdom. "Please forgive me... I'll make it painless if you cooperate." --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho was hanging by the skin of his fingers. Genius, Evin, pure genius, use the fire escape right in the middle of a rainstorm. At least GOZER will not take long to manifest. suck it up, lad. He clenches his teeth so tightly he nearly snapped a fang, and continues his climb. rung for rung, he finally pulls himself up to the top. He glances about, noticing a door, indicating roof access. Good, I won't have to do this again on the way down. Now, too bussiness. Clortho locates a point on the roof pitted by exposture, and lifts the rod. He drives it down, firmly setting it. He settles and prepares to begin his mantra. the first word does not cross his lips before a bolt homes in on the rod. words sound through Clortho's mind. Ancient words, GOZER's words. Angry words. "Milord GOZER, I" more angry words. "But Milord," the torrent carried another epitathe to Clortho's ears. "Very well, Milord GOZER. I shall do ever as you instruct." the words stopped. Clortho lookes to the roof door, metal, and pulls his chainsaw as he aproches it. the squeel of metal on metal punctuated his communion. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom's eyes flared, literally in white-gold flame. "That is ENOUGH! I have had enough of people threatening me." The fire leaps from his eyes, latching onto his opponent and spreading throughout his body. The vampire would scream, if he could draw breath. Wisdom turns to the woman approaching him, the line of fire still drawn between his eyes and the now-writhing vampire on the floor. "Don't you move. I'll kill him if you do. I swear it." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sara pauses, mid-action. She looks at Wisdom, then back to her companion. A small squeak, and then.. "No! Don't! I didn't want to do this in the first place... I..." She trails off. "I never knew the Tzimisce had such power... Siegfried, please, let go of him....!" Her eyes touch on Wisdom's own, and she then turns to the other. "I didn't want it to be this way...." --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- but all things considered, he wasn't really displeased. He watched Wisdom in admiration. It had been some time since he'd encountered a mage... and he'd never actually had one on his side before... Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kat pauses, taking in the situation with little to no understanding. "So.. uh.. What the %#$@ IS that guy, Mags?" For the instant, she forgets to call him Magnus, but it seems a passing note in the current events as is. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Edited by Siegfried Von Hauten at: 8/4/00 2:32:57 am Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom's face grew even more grim. "Fine, you want out? Go. Don't ever look back. If you wish to live, leave Atlanta...tonight. You've been tainted with your association with this Infernalist. "Don't concern yourself with this one's fate." Brief flare around the other's body. "Unless, of course, you wish to share in it." Wisdom stood to the side, the fire from his eyes arching high, allowing her passage...to the door...to the rest of her life. "Go and serve evil no more." Edited by Wisdom at: 8/4/00 2:34:44 am Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Kat, this would be an excellent time to reclaim your pistol." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The scream of a chainsaw rings down the halls, as it sheers through the service door. The door cracks apart as he kicks it in. "Where is GOZER's Chosen? Where is Theda?!!?" Vince Clortho has arived on the eighteenth floor, and all the carpeting trembles at his passing. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sara watches, perplexed. The options were simple. 1. Leave and NOT die. 2. Stay and DIE. But she still felt torn... And her gaze lowered to the ground, again seeking comfort in the folds of her blue-doll-dress. A quick glance upwards, and, in a bitter mockery of etiquette.. "I must respectfully decline your offer. You must strike me down too, for I am as well as dead out there on my own." She looks Wisdom in the eye, hard, adopting a very shabby-looking fighting stance. KLUNK. Sara falls to the ground. A mischeviously grinning Kat stands behind her, .45 in hand, the blunt end somewhat cracked from the harshnesh of the blow. She looks at the newcomer. "And... that would be... three?" --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho looks to Kat, and his mask disolves. he readies the chainsaw in his hand, and glares at her. "You are the gatekeeper?" Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom looked at Magnus and Kit, eyes still arcing to the body, writhing on the floor. "Well done, ma'am." Most of the anger has gone out of his voice. "Now, Magnus, would you like to restrain our...guest here and continue our conversation?" Wisdom was literally wavering on his feet from the effort. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kat looks at Clortho, bewildered... Something inside her tells her to say no. "Uh, no?" She watches him with anticipation, a small chill going up her spine.. the kind that one can only achieve from a chainsaw wielding maniac asking you whether you're the gatekeeper. She hopes she answered right. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He calms slightly, and settles his chainsaw. "Good, it's been a long night, I'm rather glad I won't have to kill you." Clortho glances at Wisdom. "The youth." his face changes slightly, a blank expression. "Behold, Find the youth that my chosen bor unto the night away from my gaurdian, and ye shall find that who shall guide you unto my chosen." his expression returns. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus walks over to the Cainite currently incapacitated by Wisdom's sorcery. "You can release him now, I think." As the magic fades, Magnus grabs him tightly, forcing his hands behind his back and placing his arm around his throat. "Don't... move..." Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom relaxed the fire, shivering at the sudden cold in the room. "Now, I think someone has some explaining to do." Wisdom turns a chair around backwards, arms along the top, legs straddling the chair. "Now, I think that counts as a gotcha loser. Start talking." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The man blinks, a heavy pant coming out from his throat... The pain has subsided, to release him to a NEW pain. He.. he can't move. Has he been incapitated? No, he's just being held down by some BRUTE! The horror! He tries to twist his neck to see his captor, but cannot move else wise. A brief struggle, then nothing. "You can torture me, Siegfried, but I will tell you nothing. I am not WEAK like the former primogen. Do your WORST." He clenches his jaw... --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I am not this Siegfried you keep going on about. I doubt very much you've heard of me... I am Canis Nobile. Now answer the death-mage's questions. "Don't be impolite." Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom hooked a chair with his foot and pulled it over to where Magnus held the captive vampire. He spun the chair around backwards and straddled it. "Let me help you out with something. He is not Siegfried. He's not even your concern. And he damn sure is not your biggest problem right now. I, however should be your concern, because I am certainly your biggest problem. "I can do what I did earlier until you die of old age. But you won't die of old age, will you...You'll just have to hope I don't master immortality before I die. Unless... "Unless you tell us everything we wish to know. Is that understood? Or, do I need to bring the hell-fire back for you?" Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- His eyes dart to the man in front of him, licking again his parched lips. A quiet moan, and he looks at the ground. "Ask what you will. I will see if we can... accomidate eachother." --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom looked up at Magnus, with a wry smile. "Well, now that you have seen the error of your ways, we can be friends again. "Well, I would imagine you have some things you'd love to ask this young man. Me, I'm in need of a stiff drink." Wisdom wandered out of the line of sight of the captive bloodsucker and poured himself a snifter of brandy. Looking into it, he let his mind wander, ignoring those around him. In the glass, he saw the area as it is in the lands of the dead. 18 stories below them, he saw the grand hotel in ruins, broken and decayed. Moving his point of view downward, he saw Theda, speaking with a wraith. 'Ah ha!', he thought, 'even death will not keep us apart, it appears.' He chuckled out loud at his little joke. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Since he has given me leave to question," Magnus said with a smile, "I believe I shall. First, tell me, because I am so curious: how is it the Sabbat have managed to infiltrate one of the few Camarilla strongholds in the south in such a thoroughly successful manner? "Second, tell me also: why did Christoph feel it so necessary to hunt me down and send his pet to kill me, when if he'd simply left me alone I would have ignored his little games? "And third, when did Christoph become so enamored with infernalism? I was under the impression that the Sabbat frowned upon such... alliances..." Magnus waits for answers. Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho tucks his chainsaw into his trench, and adopts a less severe visage. "So Yallin is sabbat. That explains quite a bit. Where is he now?" Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus looks at Clortho warily. He busted in here looking for the assassin... so she was his partner, apparently. Wisdom. The assassin. And now this cainite with a chainsaw. That would be three... "Christof was an infernalist, and his masters saw fit to reclaim him. Your partner was, unfortunately, dragged through with him. I think I know who to see in order to get her back, if she still exists." Then, almost regretfully: "She made the killing blow.[/i] Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "oh, she still exists. if she didn't I wouldn't be here. my boss is big on the 'swift reprocussions' department." Clortho runs a free hand over his head, considering the situation. "AND an infernalist. Now why would an infernalist have a copy of the grimore de ZUL? and more importantly, where did he keep it...." Clortho immediatly starts looking about the room. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus frowned. The Grimore de Zul? He'd never heard of it... He tightened his grip around his captive. "And while you're at it, perhaps you'd care to tell us where Christoph kept his private library?" Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Great GOZER, something's actually going right for once. Clortho halts his search at that, and looks to the man Magnus is interogating. "truthfully, preferably." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The ventrue thrall winces slightly, his head turning to witness Sara's sprawled form. He sighs noticibly. "The Prince is a very, very powerful woman. This has kept Atlanta a powerful Camarilla outpost for many years... But, in her power, she faults too easily to trust the "beautiful". She and Yallin had a... tenuous affair. He found her easier to sway, and saw to it to teach many others of her simple, yet easily overlooked deficiency. I, myself, am not Sabbat. I support the Camarilla in all endevours... But, I am a businessman." He pauses to let that sink in, or perhaps just to wince a bit at the inherent pain of being held captive. "I expected Yallin to be dealt with. You see, Magnus, it was not HE who fueled his contempt for you. It took a great deal of careful research to get him to reinitiate his qualms with you. Not my workings, but admirable, nonetheless." A sniffle (of regret, perhaps?), and then another sigh. "The Maniac with the chainsaw was a nice touch. Nothing that was expected, but 'don't kick a gift-horse in the mouth.' And the college student.. Another unexpected pleasantry.." An ironic chuckle, as he flashes back quickly to the brutal pain unleashed upon him recently. And a slight wince. "And the lovely assassin. Sent by the Calls. Or, perhaps its the CAULLs? Yallin never bothered to research into it, so smug in his decadence. 'The Camarilla Alliance under Lausi and Lavin." A slight smile creeps up on his face. "Robert Lausi, and Peter Lavin. Robert, an associate of mine... I am Peter Lavin." He shook his head. "It was SUPPOSED to be like this, however... We planned for months. No, Sara wasn't supposed to be involved. But alas, she rushed back here, and I was unable to stop her. And now... Well, lets say it is your skin or mine. And I suppose in my attempts to gain primogen-ship, I fell short." Another lengthy pause. The man considers Magnus's question... "Christopher Yallin enamored himself with Demonic Practices in ways that... I cannot understand. It was the one fault in our plan to begin with, that we never knew of it. But now, it is all too clear. The 'evidence' we need of Mr. Yallin's corpse (or even ashes) will not be apparent. Sad, really... And, the slight matter that his spirit has gone on to other things- A minor indiscretion. But if his dark masters desire vengence... then, may your souls be mercied as I hope mine will." A yelp, as Magnus's grip tightens. "I know NOT of any library.. Yallin only trusted Sara into his abode, I believe he lusted her carnal flesh the way the Prince lusted his. Brutish strength will not accomplish anything save uncomfort on BOTH our parts." --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho erupts into laughter. "You think I was brought here by the mechanations of a petty Kindred!" he settles somewhat. "I deeply suspect you are in error." Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- and his voice is very, very calm... in much the same way that the air is still before the lightning strikes. "And who, pray tell, thought it best that I be ripped from Golconda simply because they wanted someone else to clean up their own mess? Whoever it is, is guilty of the death of a saint. They have violated my haven, and are guilty of an egregious breach of the agreements of the Concordat at the Conventions of Thorns... a document I did not wish to sign, but did, and therefore one that I take very, very seriously." Towards the end, the veneer of calm breaks slightly. Magnus is obviously upset. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A brief pause. "I know not. In honesty, I know not t'all." He sighs slightly. "My partner is dead. Perhaps it was he. Another casualty from the demon-Siegfried. You would do best to seek out Siegfried and kill him, he is as much a threat to you as he is to us." He adjusts himself no more than a quarter of an inch, and a small, weak smile creeps on his lips. "We are not strange-bedfellows. Now let me up and we can talk of this like MEN?" --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus considers his request. Finally, he lets the man go. "Let us both hope that I do not regret this." He looks at his former captive warily. "Again I hear this name... Siegfried. Who is this Siegfried, and why do I need to concern myself with him?" Edited by Magnus at: 8/5/00 8:48:59 pm Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The man sighs for a moment, lying on the ground. He streches his neck back and forth, then pushes himself upward. A quick reflex, then he is up on his feet. "Good. Very good." He looks at Magnus, a quick appraisal, then around the room. "Interesting." A stiffled, detatched yawn, then he brushes off his expensive suit. He turns again, and sits in Yallin's former throne. "Now, perhaps we can get onto what it is we MUST do. I would love to have Sara as my own, but that does not appear to be possible. Thus, I would have her brought up on the charges that would destroy us both. We can have her out of here and chastised by the Prince, and not a scuffle on us. She would even go along with the whole thing, brain-washed child that she is." Kat seems to scowl at this idea, but remains silent. He ignores this. "I will adopt the office of Primogen, and my associate is not in the way to interfere. In return, I will provide my new-found power to assist you in.. well, whatever endevour you would have. Most likely leaving Atlanta." A sudden smirk graces his face. The political forum. HIS forum. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus almost shouts that word. Then he hisses, "I will not throw that child into the arms of the Inquisition simply to escape... regardless of whose Inquisition it is. "We will find another way." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Unfortunatly, you'd be mistaken. I, for one, don't plan to leave Atlanta until I've done what I need to do." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He watches Magnus with disbelief. "More than a thousand years, and you still cling to outdated moral codes... Ah well, then perhaps we shall think of another way. If you have any ideas, please, let me know.. but you have to remember, two people are dead, and in two different ways, both of them are promenant in kindred society. The prince is going to want ANSWERS. And what will we tell her?" A brief shudder goes through his entire body. "I am not going to the gallows. Nor would I expect you to desire that either. And if this ends up becoming a 'situation', well... we might all end up being lit on fire and listed as casualties of war. Such is the vice: If you turn me in, I would tell them about your involvement. And if I turn you in, the same would take place. The Prince is not a woman who would take chances: She'd sooner have us all burned at the stake and be done with it." A brief sigh, and then a quick glance upward. "Any ideas?" Kat steps forward, her anger barely containable. "I have one, you bastard... How about we kill you right here? What gives YOU the right to decide the fate of a thousand kindred and millions of people? You make me sick." Kat's eyes connect with Peter's, and it seems they engage in a fierce mental duel. Neither steps down, and there is an unnaturally long pause. The air seems thick enough to cut with a knife. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This one has a spark. She is to be commended. "I agree with the girl. This one embodies everything that is in error about this world. Killing him may not destroy it, but he cannot be allowed to live on." Clortho steps forward, radiating a palpable determination. No matter the consiquences, he cannot be permitted to continue. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He watches Clortho, a brief concern gracing his face. The girl, the chainsaw-wielder, both against him... And wanting his blood. He turns to look at Magnus, a brief glimmer of hope shining through his eyes. "N..Now, come on... we can handle this much better than in this manner, can we not?" Kat is watching Clortho now, a brief smile whisping across her face. A cold determination follows her smile, and she turns to Peter. "No. There will be no more of this. You should not worry about the Prince, for we are a MUCH greater threat to you at the moment." She pauses, and watches Magnus for a brief moment, then draws her .45. The man scrambles backwards, knocking over the throne chair. Within seconds, Kat is upon him, gun to his head. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Not now, Kat. While I agree with your sentiment, killing him would be unwise at this point. The prince of Atlanta is very well known, and I do not relish being the target of a Camarilla blood hunt. "I believe I may have a solution to your problem, but right now we have other concerns. This man," indicates Clortho, "has lost a partner... and I am obligated to help bring her back." Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom hasn't heard the conversation. He has been....searching and watching. Suddenly, he literally shakes his perceptions back to the world consensually agreed to as real. He drains the snifter of brandy in one draught and stands up. "I know where she is, and she isn't far from here. She looks alright, but she could be tricky to get to." Wisdom looks at "Chain Saw Man" speculatively. "Ummm...so, she's your partner, right? She got a boyfriend?" Edited by Wisdom at: 8/6/00 5:37:59 pm Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho continues his course. "The camarilla will fall in due course. This man, however, will not survive the night. I would recomend you leave the room, all of you, so that you might be absolved of responsibility." He reaches into his jacket, which is considerably shorter in the image he wears, as though removing a pistol or handkerchif. When he draws his hand out, it holds the chainsaw. He glances back, his eyes glowing red. "Did you not hear me? Go, it is GOZER's will that this be done, but I will have no ill come of it." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On one hand, her emotions... She would not accept the betrayal of a young innocent who, a long time ago, was her. On the other, her desire to appease Magnus.. to see him smile approvingly. She leaned back, her gun still pointed no more than a foot from the man's head. "So..." The only word uttered from her mouth, and the Ventrue lunges forward, grabbing her neck in one hand. "I swear, if you try that again, you insolent BITCH, I will crush your windpipe." Peter looks furious.. A man on the verge of frenzy. He looks over at the others, his eyes mostly focused on the chainsaw-man. "And this is my insurance that the rest of you keep away." Kat's gun scatters to the ground, a small moan escaping her lips. "Evidently we cannot discuss this like civilized gentlemen, so I have to take a hostage. Tsk tsk." His eyes glare red.. With his free hand, he lifts up the chair, positioning it... And sits. He holds Kat like a ragdoll, gently enough by the neck not to kill her, but she seems to be in pain. "Now what assurances do I have from YOU that this will not happen again, mm?" His question is directed to Magnus, but his eyes remain on the chainsaw wielder. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you harm her in any way! Any!" Magnus holds his gladius in hand, knuckles white... "I will not only see you dead, I will personally drag you into the sunlight and watch you burn. I swear upon my life, it will be done. "If you have any wish to live another night, you will release her now." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho reves his chainsaw before this burst of action, and halts as the situation takes a new turn. He stos moving, almost as though a barrier had been erected. "You will RELEASE her, and accept you fate!" his chainsaw idles, not bearing the conviction of his voice. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kat's face turns white. She cannot breathe. "I would recommend you NOT threaten me." He wields Kat like a weapon (which, basically, she is to him). He stands up quickly, lowering Kat to the ground, his grip loosening slightly. She wraps her arms around his powerful hand, to no avai"I will kill her if you harm me, and you will harm me if I kill her. In-teresting. Again, we are at... hmm. an understanding?" He watches feverently, and looks towards the window. Kat's foot hits its mark. Twice. Thrice. The Ventrue's eyes bug out as his groin takes a multiple beating. He throws Kat to the ground, and she scuttles backwards, grabbing her .45. He assumes a deadly fighting stance, and from the depths of his coat he removes.... a rapier? Or definately SOME kind of fencing weapon. But he wields it with deadly accuracy, and stands at the ready. And once again, Kat is his captive, the sword point at her throa"You... bitch.... You're more trouble than you're worth." He seems to be panting from the groin-bashing. He looks up, a curl of white hair flows over his forehead, and his eyes deepen with hatred.... Like a cornered rat. --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- GOZER, what is wrong with me. I should cut through the girl to reach him. But that would avail no one. Clortho lifts his chainsaw, reving it idly. and it would be a shame to extinguish such spirit. Perhaps GOZER has chosen more than one. I can only hope. He looks to Peter, a new, fresh glow in his eye. "You persist in this, why? When the sun rises, you will have to release her or die, then she will extract her own vengence. and if She does not, I will. At best, you've another day to live." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The man looks at Clortho, his staunch determination weakening. "No.. We can come to a better compromise. Where none of us will be harmed! Open your eyes to compromise!" He swallows the lump in his throat, and presses the rapier towards Kat's throat. "Now..." A slight prick... A small bit of blood drips down onto the ground. "I have lived for 130 years. I will NOT die this easily." --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "you've lived for one hundred and thirty years, yet you have not seen the truths I saw after fourteen. Or is it worse, and you saw those truths and chose to continue?" Clortho seems somewhat melancholia at this. "I beleive your time is near done, and I speak for the power that resolves such issues. Enjoy what moments you have left, for you shall never have them again." and his conviction renews. Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom watched the exchange, taking the measure of the personalities involved. He did not truly want to kill anyone out of turn, though it made for a powerful threat. He felt no immediate threat to himself, so, he allowed himself the luxury of judging his "companions". Truthfully, he was thoroughly underwhelmed by vampires so far. They were, for the most part, all insane, malicious, insanely malicious or maliciously insane. Some of them appeared to have great legs though. One of them spoke of a Prince. That implied laws and rules. The thought that vampires might have a civilization never occured to him. That idea both encouraged and worried him. It encouraged him because of the implication that they were indeed civilized. That even those in power had to obey their law. 'Assuming a Rule of Law, rather than a Rule of Man or whatever.' From the moment Wendy told him about vampires, Wisdom was fascinated. He'd loved Dracula as a kid. He thought Rice's novels kinda sappy but mostly ok, especially the first one. When he found out they were real, he wanted to meet some. He just didn't know there were so damn many. To have formalized rules that were followed from one geographic location to another implied that there was a network, a civilization and a history. The aggressive vampire had referred to Magnus as Siegfried. Wisdom figured there were so few that they would know each other by name, if not sight. Casually, he poured himself another snifter of brandy and half-sat, half-leaned against the desk to see what would happen next. 'Vampire fight, vampire problem, not my issue. Vampires wanna kill vampires, who am I to say what's right and what's wrong? Now, if they wanna kill me, on the other hand, then that becomes my concern. Otherwise...screw 'em. I don't know any of them...I damn sure ain't willing to bleed for any of them.' He thought to himself. 'Should be a good fight though.' Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho notices Wisdom. he smiles litely. "That's remarkably levelheaded of you, Youth. What is your name?" Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 'Wow,' Wisdom thought, 'He's interested in something other than the thought of cutting paper dolls out of human..er..vampire skin with a chain saw.' "Mike, but you can call me Wisdom...nearly everybody does." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "The description fits. You may call me Schandor. It would seem the name that falls most easily to the living tounge tonight." Clortho retuns his gaze to peter. "As for YOUR tounge, and the mind behind it, I can't say I care for your philosophy, subcreature." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He watches Wisdom and Clortho converse. "Damn..! STOP acting so... so... so collected! Damn you!" He reminds one of a child throwing a tantrum. But he quickly gathers himself. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was happening all over again... 23 October, 1493. "Be it known that on this night the Jyhad has ended." Hardestadt said that with such gravity, it seemed he almost believed it -- but Canis could see the smirks on the faces of some of the others around them. They gloated... they had their eyes set on victory, and they planned to relish it. He saw them all: Darius, Gustav, Edward... Christoph. All looking at them -- at him -- eyes glittering with undisguised glee and malice. His group shuffled uneasily, he could see the faces of some of his bretheren... resolute. Defiant. Hopeless. Hardestadt, that damned soulless bastard, continued droning on, explaining the terms of surrender, the 'concessions' the newly named Camarilla were willing to make -- as if they meant anything! "My friends..." Hardestadt oozed awe and authority, but most of Canis' coetrie dismissed that feeble attempt almost by rote. "This is the only way all our kind, the entire Kindred race, will ever survive. The Inquisition hunts us down with impugnity. This will allow us to stop killing each other, and work towards protecting ourselves... and our futures..." And your sorry empires, Canis thought, but he still did not speak. There was silence as the anarchs stared at each other, wondering who would make the first move. It was inevitable. The elders would win. Again. As they always have. There was movement, as one of the anarchs stepped out, making his way to the table. Hardestadt smiled -- one would mean others, and this anarch, Bryant Verande, was well-known and well liked. Verande looked at them all, sullenly, and reached over for a quill, to sign his mark... Stop! Canis' voice rang out across the hall. Christoph looked startled, and Hardestadt frowned. Verande stopped. They had fought side by side in Spain. Canis trusted him, and he did the same. Canis stepped forward, hand on his gladius, frowning. He had refused to relinquish his weapon, despite the demands of the elder present. He could feel the hatred of some, sense Hardestadt's concern. He could feel the eyes of his comerades on him, watching. "I know that some of my comerades are held captive by some of you. I know that you expect my concern for their well being will... convince me submit to your terms." There was no reply. Hardestadt stood there, waiting for him to finish. Canis tried to choke back the burning hatred he felt when he looked upon that man. "I want assurances that they will be released. Unharmed." "You have my word on that," Hardestadt said immediately. "And the ghouls," Canis continued. A murmur ran through the Camarilla again and this time Christoph stood up... "I see no need for ghouls to even be considered..." "I will see to it that all who fought with us are given the same consideration... be they Cainite or Kine." Hardestadt considered, then nodded. "I agree to your terms." He turned to his group, waiting for their acquiesence. It came, eventually. Grudgingly. Canis walked up to Verande, and murmured something in his ear. Verande nodded once, then stepped to one side and stood behind him. Canis stood on one side of the table. Hardestadt on the other. The Concordat in between them both. Canis drew his gladius. There was a sudden movement, as Cainites on both sides prepared to fight, but Hardestadt raised his hand, and as quickly as it started the motion stopped. "I assume you do not intend to use that on me," Hardestadt said quietly. Quiet, but dangerous. Canis didn't believe it would do any good, even if he tried. "Quite right," Canis said, and drew the blade of his sword across his own hand. He had to do so slowly -- carefully -- in order to ensure the blade would actually cleave the skin... but a red line did appear in his hand, and his vitae began to pool in his palm. He picked up a quill, and let the ink from the quill intermingle with his own lifesblood... and stooped over, and signed his name. Canis Nobile. Then he stood, willing the cut to heal, cursing his thin blood for the effort it took. He looked at the Camarilla, staring at him in amazement. "Ink would have sufficed," Christoph said, smirking. "No, it would not have sufficed." He spat the words out, as if they were filth in his mouth. "I am signing this document in the faith that you, Christoph, and you Hardestadt, and the rest of you 'Camarilla' will be true to your word. I have signed it with a blood oath -- so long as you remain faithful to it's agreement, and so long as the ones who come after you remain faithful, I will abide by it, and it's masquerade. "However... "Should you renege on your promises, should any of your captives not be released, should you try to exact your retribution on any save for those already listed in this Concordat... my blood will cry out for compensation on the shame you have wrought, and I will exact my price. If you do not uphold your end of the bargain, I will devote my existence -- regardless of how long or how short -- to hunting each and every one of you down. I destroy you. I cannot destroy the Camarilla, but I will take some of its beloved sons with me as I perish..." He turned then, and as he passed Verande, he passed his sword on. Verande, too cut his hand, and signed in his blood. And so did the next. And the next. And the next. By the end of the day, every anarch there had signed the Concordat in their own blood. An admission of defeat... but a promise of retribution as well. The sword was set; Damocles sat beneath. And in time, many forgot why the Concordat was sometimes referred to as the Blood Compact, but the red-stained signatures remain to this day... Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If you'd care to settle this, let the girl go," Clortho hefts the chainsaw. "and we'll settle this in a manner befiting men of station." Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quote: "Now..." A slight prick... A small bit of blood drips down onto the ground. "I have lived for 130 years. I will NOT die this easily." Magnus' face twists into a mask of fury. "Time? Time? You would have me believe that the value of your life can be measured in the time it was lived? "I have walked this earth for nearly two thousand years. I was alive when the followers of an obscure prophet named Christus were hunted down for sport. I was alive when the followers of a slightly less obscure god named Jesu were put in chains and crucified for treason against Rome. I was alive when Constantine re-conquered most of the world under the name of that same God. "I saw Rome fall. I saw Britain rise. I saw the Inquisition kill Cainites by fire for years, I saw your precious Camarilla formed at the Convention of Thorns. Catherine has lived longer than you, five times over at least! And you think one hundred and thirty years has earned you the right to endanger a comerade I value more than my own soul? "I cannot protect you from Gozer's Mad Prophet. I can, however, protect you from myself. Lower your weapon and release her, and I will not raise my sword against you. Work out your own deal with Gozer's chosen. But if you harm her I swear to you, you will see the sun rise again." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Peter watches Clortho, an amused smile creasing his worried lips. "A rapier vs. chainsaw fight? I think not.... If you would fight me in honorable one on one combat, I would stake my freedom on my superior fencing arm." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I do not think you could stand in a fair fight. When this faith drives me, I can become... bloodthirsty. I am offering you a kindness, in this. With a foil, your death would be prolonged. With my weapon, your death will pass swiftly, and you will be dead before you feel the pain you diserve." Clortho keeps the chainsaw running at a steady purr as he speaks. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He watches Magnus's eyes... swallowing hard. "I....." his rapier stands firm, but his sword-arm shakes slightly. A brief flicker in concentration, and then back to the task on hand. "You offer me no proof that you will let me be. And I will kill her if you step any closer... I swear to it." Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom raises one eyebrow. "'You will see the sun again.' Now that is a threat. I must remember that one." Walking slowly forward. "Really now, You should listen to Magnus. He seems pretty sincere. And Clortho is pretty intent on his course of action. "My question is, why are you using such an ineffectual threat? I thought you vampires were supposed to only be killed by sunlight and stakes through the heart. Surely sticking this pretty little lady, rude as it might be, wouldn't do much more than hurt her, and perhaps make her mad, would it?" Edited by Wisdom at: 8/6/00 10:08:57 pm Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The man screams in primal rage. "You... I'm taking HER with me!!" He lifts up the rapier, Kat's mouth drops, too startled to react. The fencing sword spirals down at an alarming rate. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In a blur -- almost faster than the eye can track -- Magnus moves. He runs forward, his gladius arcs overhead, and smashes on Peter's rapier. It bends, twists, and flies out of his, tumbling to the floor, inches away from Peter's feet. "You had your chance. Now you die." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kat, letting out a sigh of relief, tumbles backwards, a quick spiral then back up onto her feet, behind Magnus. She takes a quick glance left and right, and then crouches. Peter, nimble as a cat, removes a long-looking dagger of some kind, hefting it in his right hand. He lunges for Magnus which is dodged with incredible deftness. Baring his teeth, he looks over his shoulder... THUCCHK. Peter's head hits the ground, but the rest of his body does not. It stands there for a moment, bewildered as to where the center which commands it went, and then falls limp besides the decapitated organ. A final twitch in the hand, and then nothing. The body disintigrates into dust, the skull being the only body part that remains for more than a moment. It, too, descends into decay. And dust. Kat breathes heavily, and looks up at Magnus, a huge grin on her fac"You *do* care!" She is too exhausted to stand up, but she giggles softly, then peels into raucious laughter. Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus looks at the pile of dust and felt the emptiness growing within him. It took a great deal from him in order to be able to move at the speed he had. He would need to feed, soon... Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom toed the pile of ashes thoughtfully. "You know Magnus. I could bring him back. Well, sorta. "Probably he wouldn't like the trip though." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "The patrician made his choice." the chainsaw idles and disapears into clortho's jacket. His eyes settle on Wisdom, as the red gleam dies down. "You where saying you know where Theda is?" Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus sits down on the floor, leaning against the wall. He looks as if the ordeal took a lot of him. "That would be counter-productive," Magnus says. "I went to a great deal of trouble to kill him in the first place. I'm sure when the young lady," he indicates the unconcious form of Sara, "wakes up she'll be able to answer our questions." He closes his eyes for a second, then sighs. "We'd better get out of here. Kat, do you think the Oracle would mind a few visitors?" Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom looked up at Clortho slowly he moved to put Magnus between the two of them, dissembling along the way. "Well...uhhh...I, well, that is to say...She's in the land of the dead." Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kat nods. "I don't think he'd mind. In fact, I think he'd just -love- the company of a mage..." A slight smile. She leans up, brushing a hand across her bangs, and looks from person to person. "So... shall we wait for the chick, or head over to Sean?" --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho's face snaps back to that expressionless gaze. "Thus, shall the Youth bourn away guide thee, my harbinger, unto the lands of exile, where my will interns those that deserve not the gift of life. Heed his word, for his hand shall guide thee unto the gate, and with his blessing, shall the gatekeeper come to be, no more." a look of disgust replaces the gaze. "I hate it when he does that." His eyes fall upon Magnus, and Wisdom. "We should ajourn to another room. I have a suite set aside on the top floor, and several bags of vitae, if you can stand it cold." Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom frowned: "Ummm...She's not coming back...Not without help. It's going to be tough even then." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "If it's going to be 'tough' as you so elloquently put it, we would do well to undertake our task on a full belly." Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Ummm...I guess you guys don't mean a Big Mac, do you?" Magnus -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- At the word 'vitae', Magnus gets up. "I would be happy to take you up on that, Prophet. In truth... I'm ravenous. "Do you think we can take the girl up to your suite without being noticed? If she's been enslaved by the blood bond for as long as I suspect she has, she'll be completely lost when she comes to. "After we've fed, though, we'd best find the Oracle. I think he'll probably know how to get to your partner." Clortho -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clortho picks her up, and slings her over his sholder. "You can leave that perticuler detail in my capable hands. Though I would be suprised to encounter anyone at this time." Clortho smiles to Wisdom in amusement. the lad is already past the camarilla's precious 'masquarade', why not take him furthur? "You surely didn't think the gifts of the blood could be fed by fast food." He steps into the hall. "Room 20-309, if it isn't open, wait." and he fades into the shadows. Siegfried Von Hauten -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ooc/ It would be good to start a new thread at the room, because this one is getting HUGE :-) /ooc --- Siegfried Von Hauten 10th Generation Ancillae Tzimisce Metamorphosist Priest of the Sabbat Wisdom -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wisdom pursed his lips crookedly "Uhhh...yeah, well, that's wishful thinking, I guess." < Previous Page Next Page >