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Author Topic: Family Business  (Read 11756 times)

Offline [archive] dalver

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #15 on: October 30, 2005, 10:17:00 PM »
                Julian crossed the hallway at a quick pace. He had a bad feeling about the call earlier. The human ghouls pushed open the heavy mahogany doors as he neared them. He saw Sorana speaking quietly with her aide off to the side.
 
 "Eaves-dropping again, Sorana?"
 
 "Oh please, is that what passes for humour in the streets?" ...where you belong. She didn't say it, but both knew it was what she meant "I am still here because your bullying in that thing you call a business, provided you with a surplus of cash. Cash that you will have to launder and you will have to do it through my establishments. I filled Anna here" she waved her hand at the small woman in glasses by her side "in on the details. Saving time, considering you soon will be out of town, out of touch. As we both know, this outfit would benefit greatly by some efficiency".
 
 Julian had been deep in thought about the call and was taken somewhat unprepared by her present tirade "Well, how altruistic of you. But I don't think paper-management equals efficiency"
 
 "Obviously you don't... anyway, there was something else I wanted to speak to you about. Come join me" she said as she walked towards the big windows lining the grand reception hall they were in.
 
 Big windows, grand views... Sorana and Eric were extremely fond of the melodramatic effect of them. Julian had only adapted it, but it didn't mean much to him, not in the same manner as it meant for Sorana, or Eric. Sorana watched the streetlights below, Julian had already gone through this game once tonight and he was quickly losing patience. He completely ignored the view and shoved his hands in his pockets glaring at Sorana.
 
 "You are going to be away for a couple of days. We don't know for how long."
 
 "Get to the point Sorana, the sun is coming up"
 
 She clenched her teeth, but didn't face him "Your business... I hope you leave it in good hands".
 
 "Come now. Don't insult my intelligence by trying to persuade me to leave it to you. I don't have time for this nonsense"
 
 She faced him "I wasn't... look... we both know you are going to leave it to that Toreador bitch you've got on a leash" she raised an eyebrow "...or is it the other way around?"
 
 "If I would leave it to her then I would know it would be in capable hands. But however that may be, the bottom line is that whom I leave my business to, is none of your concern".
 
 "She's not clan... Julian, don't make a fool of yourself"
 
 "Sorana, you and me... we're fucking done for tonight!" Julian fought the urge to backhand her through the window for a moment then stepped over to the elevator and entered it. Sorana was still standing at the window, unmoved as the elevator doors closed.
 
 She had pissed him off and he realised she had played him. The charade with the windows... why? Did she only want to stall him? Was something going on? What was she after? He was angry and he knew he didn't think straight. Did she oppose of Belle, his Toreador asisstant, because she knew he would spite her and leave Belle in charge? Did she want Belle in charge? Sonofabitch! He needed to calm down. Julian turned his head to his aide "Your brother, why did he call me in the middle of a meeting?".
 
 "Uh, I don't know sir. The call didn't go through me... sir, is something the matter?"
 
 "Of course it is! It always is... Well, call your brother then".                        

 

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Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #16 on: October 31, 2005, 07:17:00 PM »
                The Kine produced a cellphone from one of his pockets and hurriedly scrolled through the entries, but before he got a connection, the elevator came to a stop and the door opened with a chime. Even though the hall was quite long and it was fairly dark outside, Julian immediately recognized his assistant who'd called him earlier. He didn't bother informing the human beside him that his brother was in fact waiting just outside the building and therefore there was no point in calling him whatsoever, instead he walked towards the door, leaving the Kine behind.
 
 He might not have been the greatest reader of body language among the undead, but he knew enough to register the human was both anxious to speak to him and reluctant to do so, at the same time. This served to confirm his bad feeling from before, but he purposefully took his time crossing the hall. When he finally exited the building, the Kine approached him right away and spoke
 
 "Erm... Good evening, sir. I couldn't reach you via phone so I took the liberty of seeking you out here." Julian offered no verbal response, only motioned for the man to continue. This had better be important "I'm afraid there's a problem with the delivery due today. It, uh... appears that someone has beaten us to the deal."                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Skinweaver

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #17 on: November 01, 2005, 12:51:00 PM »
                The cool night air was uncomfortable. If Rebecka still had a hearbeat she would have shivered.
 She stepped out of the cab and wrapped the coat around her as the driver stretched out his hand in hopes of payment.
 The run down buildings of Redbrock surrounded the Tremere like a minor army of broken giants, various junkies and homeless people were stumbling through the dark streets and in the distance, some mutt of indestinguishable race barked at a cat.
 
 "Hey, lady! pay up!"
 
 Rebecka shook her head and turned around, leaning into the cab.
 She let her sunglasses slide down her nose and looked at the man as his's face stiffened with shock.
 
 "But I have already paid."
 
 She said. The cabdriver's face went blank for a moment but turned into a bashful smile a moment later.
 
 "Right you have. Must be gettin' old. I'll be leaving. Two more hours left on my shift and this part of town gives me the creeps anyway."
 
 She slammed the door shut as the cab turned left and disappeared from the neighbourhood.
 
 "Sheep. All of them! Now, to find that pusher..."
 
 Malcom park wasn't far away and any muggers would provide little more than a distraction and possibly a few interesting samples.
 Through testing, Rebecka had managed to filter some of the filth into a seperate vial and then there was the powder...
 A brown substance that would turn bright red when exposed to the proper chemicals provided that she could find the right pusher but more importantly, the right chemical...
 
 A few minutes later she found one. As if that had been a challenge to begin with!
 The tall guy was dressed in a blue, ragged jacket and the only thing that acturally set him apart from the human waste around him was the Rolex and gold ring on his right hand.
 He smiled as he recieved his fifth bunch of Benjamins for the evening and handed a small bag of coloured pills to his underaged customer.
 Rebecka couldn't help but smile at the situation.
 
 "Ahh... the humanity."                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Sodom40280831

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #18 on: November 05, 2005, 09:44:00 AM »
                “Well he’s definitely Malkavian, no doubt about it.â€?
 
 Nail wanted to approach the church to see if there was anything else that might give him some insight into the kindred’s identity when the sound of approaching sirens caught his attention. He quickly entered a dark alley where he disappeared into the shadows. After putting some distance between himself and the crime-scene Nail found himself alone in a dark street a few blocks west from the church so he decided to take a break for a while before finding a way back to the warrens. He sat down on a green wooden bench and started humming a few of his favourite songs while staring at the night-sky.  
 
 Living easy, living free
 Season ticket on a one-way ride
 Asking nothing, leave me be
 Taking everything in my stride
 Don't need reason, don't need rhyme
 Ain't nothing I would rather do
 Going down, party time
 My friends are gonna be there too
 
 I'm on the highway to he…

 
 
 Nail was suddenly rudely interrupted by the sound of screeching brakes as a large black car was racing down the street and almost hit the bench he was sitting on. The car was heading for the turn at the end of the street but it was going far too fast to make it, sure enough, it didn’t make it. There was a large crash as the car spun out of control and flung itself into a large brick wall covered with graffiti. It all happened so fast Nail needed a moment to pull himself together. He quietly started walking towards the car, which was still (barely) in one piece. Suddenly the car-door opened and the driver crawled out, Nail almost instinctively cloaked himself. The driver quickly got back on his feet, he was obviously kindred for no kine could just walk away from a crash like that. He was Caucasian, tall and wearing a torn trench. Nail had never met him but the description seemed familiar somehow. And then Nail suddenly remembered. The driver fit the description he had been given on that Sabbat everyone had been chasing!
 
 Before Nail could get any closer to him he started running as fast as he could. “Shit!â€? Nail whispered. He approached the car, there was a body in the backseat drained completely dry. He spotted a payphone on the other side of the street, he raced towards it and dialled the warrens’ number. A suave male voice with a Spanish accent answered the phone.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Good evening, you have reached “Latin Nightsâ€?, I am your host Don Carlos, the man that can make every woman feel like a goddess!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s me Don.â€?
 
 The suave Spanish voice suddenly turned into a horrible, twisted, cracked parody of itself as the next few words were more hissed than spoken.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well if it ain’t Nail, what can I do fer ya?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I think I just spotted that Sabbat everyone has been talking about.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No kidding?! That lasombra asshole?!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah I think so, he crashed his car right in front of my eyes and then started running.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where are you?!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m a few blocks west from the church in St Augustine.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Do you think you can still catch up to him?!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well I guess, but I don’t have time for this!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Then you make time! Just follow him and see where he goes. Then come back here and tell us so we can send some muscle over.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“There is a body in his car, drained completely dry, you should probably send someone to..â€?
 
 Nail was interrupted by the sound of the car behind him exploding.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Never mind. Oh Don, I also need some info on a Malka…â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“There’s no time for that, come visit me later. Now go after that Sabbat asshole!â€?
 
 Nail immediately hung up the phone and started running in the direction the Sabbat was going, hoping there wouldn’t be any kine on the streets seeing as he wasn’t cloaked anymore. The Sabbat couldn’t have gotten that far, not at the pace Nail saw him go. Not that Nail was a true athlete but he should have been able to catch up to someone who was just in a car crash. After turning a few corners and making some lucky guesses Nail caught up to the Lasombra and started following him from a safe distance. He was playing with the idea of taking him on himself, but it was too late for fighting and he didn’t know exactly how powerful his enemy was. So he decided to stick to his assignment and just follow him.    
                       

 

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Offline [archive] Grendel8101

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #19 on: November 05, 2005, 03:06:00 PM »
                I felt a sharp pain in my back, something digging around underneath the skin.  They’d given me booze to dull the pain.  Hospital tents must be running low on cash.  The alcohol tasted bad, and wasn’t really doing the trick.  I grunted as the nurse went in a little deeper.
 
 Fire, then a strange coldness as whatever the fuck she was using was torn out.  I heard a metallic plunk as a bullet was dropped into a bowl.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why aren’t you throwing that away?â€? came a male voice.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“He collects them,â€? the nurse said.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh, yeah.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Anyway,â€? the nurse continued, “that’s one.  He said there was two still stuck in there.  How you doin’ boss?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“How’re you doing, darlin’?  How about when you fix me up we go hit that bar over on Dung Lao?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh.  Right.  He’s gone again.â€?  she said to the other.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No, I’m right here.â€?  
 
 I heard a door open.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hey, boss, I got…Star, are you digging around in his back with a needle nose pliers?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yep.â€? the nurse said.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Christ, are the med workers really that under funded?  I thought it was goofy when you gave me booze as an anesthetic but shit, you’re using pliers?  What kind of fucking hospital is this?  I want to see my L T.â€?
 
 There was a silence.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Does it bug anybody else when he does that?  I mean, beings as we’re all his oompah loompah’s and shit?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Shut up Rowdy.â€?  said the other guy.  Was he a doctor?  Why wasn’t he operating?
 
 The mud sloughed away from my brain as Star dug the pliers deep into another bullet hole.  I was lying on the bar in Charlie’s.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Star!â€? I yelled.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Wrong hole, that one punched clean through.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry boss.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Rowdy,â€? I said, “Did you get the tires?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah.  Right size, different treads, just like you asked.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Good, you and Mal put them on the Mustang, and get rid of the old ones.â€?  Somebody might have seen my car by that church.  The ’Stang was registered, and if they matched my treads with the black strips I left by the church I could be in a world of hurt.
 
 I had made a quick stop in Redbrock and left the cop’s gun on a punk who matched the description.  I might have to call in an anonymous tip later.  It seemed too complicated for me.  I know cops, they were going to smell something wrong with the picture I’d painted.  Hopefully I’d broken all connections between me and the church, though.  Only time would tell.
 
 I grunted as Star dug the pliers in deeper.  She found the bullet, but couldn’t get a good grip on it.  The pliers kept sliding off.  I took another swig from the bottle of blood, taken from a drunk, and clenched my teeth.  I felt the wrenching as she tore the bullet loose, taking more ligament and tissue than I like to think about.
 
 I focused, and healed the wounds, sealing up the skin.  I looked around and caught Star sucking the gore off the bullet and pliers.  She smiled sheepishly.  I shrugged and turned away, wincing as I got down from the bar.
 
 Only a few hours to dawn.  I wondered if fate would shovel some more shit my way before I retired for the night.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] dalver

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #20 on: November 08, 2005, 06:26:00 PM »
                "Well do continue. Tell me what happened? Someone hijacked our guns?" ... if that was the case, there would be bloodshed, examples had to be made.
 
 "No sir. They bought our guns before my guy got there"
 
 "Bought? Our guns... without violence? Details please" Julian said and started walking towards his car, he had one hand in his pocket.
 
 "My guys got there at the time we and the seller had agreed upon. The seller was still there, which to me indicates he would be clean - and told our guys the goods were sold. Our guys got pissed so they broke some arms and nearly cut off some fingers..." he carefully looked at Julian to see his reaction.
 
 "For fucks sake Tony I told you I wanted this done quiet. I told you I don't want more of those trigger-happy types" Julian wasn't angry, he said it matter-of-factly.
 
 "They weren't sir. But what were they to do? A 10 million deal and when they got there someone told them - it's sold, goodbye - what were they to do?"
 
 "Whatever Tony. It's obviously already a fuck-up and I'm fairly certain that you're aware this hangs on your head. So please, finish the story and leave the excuses out of it"
 
 "Sir, I wasn't making..."
 
 "The boss asked you to finish the story, Tone" his brother said and shot Tony stern look. They had reached Julians black-grey Mercedes and Julian leaned on the hood.
 
 "Sir, the seller said that some weird asian guy was waiting for them when they arrived and that he had the ammount of money we had agreed upon. He thought he was making business with us! He didn't know!" Tony looked up, Julian was smiling.
 
 "I like it. A smooth operation. Quiet no one got hurt and everyone thought the business was done correctly. Obviously they didn't want to mess with us more than necessary otherwise they would have killed and mutilated... at least someone" Julian rubbed his chin thinking "Who was the seller?"
 
 "We've done at least seven deals of the same size with him before. He's clean... well as clean..."
 
 "Well, then who was the buyer we were going to sell to?"
 
 "Hmm, the buyer was a local boy. Someone we've kept our eyes on for some time. Someone who's done some deals around town. Not one of you types, so a ghoul obviously. We stayed away. He provided guns and fought against the Sabbat incursion, recently. Seems to be clean"
 
 "Do you think he would be capable of going over our heads? Wait... who's ghoul is he?"
 
 "Crazy guy rolling around town in an old Mustang. Thinks he's Steve McQueen"
 
 "Hmm, Bitterman... Is the ghoul doing business on his own?"
 
 "Not likely, in fact most certainly not, but it's kind of hard to tell with that guy. I mean... he really is crazy. I'm not exaggerating"
 
 "I know... Well if Bitterman is the buyer then it wasn't him. He wouldn't..." dare, thought Julian but realised that would be a dangerous assumption, given the unorthodox nature of the madmen "...need, all the extra trouble of dealing with a war between us. He may be mad, but he isn't stupid" Julian looked up towards his sire's haven. His thoughts went to Sorana and her mentioning Belle. Why had she done that?
 
 "Boss, what do you want us to do?"
 
 "Talk to Bittermans people, set up a meeting as soon as possible. Get an exact description of the asian who made the deal. I'm going to Cyprus. Find me there" and with that he got in his car. The Mercedes purred like a cat. Julian thought of Belle and the coincidence that her club was right next to Bittermans dive bar. The traffic was light and Julian bounced the pedal to the metal.
 
 ***
 
 Cyprus an old ghoul and ironically greek, had his office in a one story building, rundown like hell. Outside were some five tough looking hoods rolling dice on the pavement beneath a streetlight. The cold didn't seem to inconvenience them in the least. Julian stopped the car in front of them. They briefly looked up and nodded to him. Julian went up the short stairs and into a shoddy hallway. In a sofa sat a teenage boy in gang colors, with an Uzi in his lap reading an "The Authority" comicbook. He jumped as Julian entered but resumed his postition as he recognised who it was.
 
 As much as the building and the neighborhood was rundown so much was the stark contrast of the greeks office. It was clean and the furniture was antique, completely renovated by the greek and brought from his ancestral home on, ironically Crete. Cyprus wore a white shirt with large collars, the shirt was buttoned up and heavy gold chains rested on the greek's broad hairy chest. He sat at his desk reading a file, typing at his computer and talking on the phone at the same time. Julian went in and sat in one of the big leathered chairs. Cyprus quickly ended his conversation and turned to Julian "Welcome sir. Should I order in some refreshments? I have two sixteen year olds sleeping downstairs".
 
 Julian thought of feeding, he had done so earlier in the night together with Belle. It would have been nice though to indulge himself again and the sixteen year olds sounded like a treat, but he didn't feel the need, yet. "That won't be necessary". Julian slouched deeper into the ancient chair and brought his fingertips together in front of his face "Cyprus, the Malkavian Kindred who provided the shotguns and Uzis for us when we had the Sabbat on our streets. You know whom I speak of, yes?"
 
 "The one with the cars"
 
 "The one with the cars, exactly and his ghouls. I need to know what they've been doing tonight"
 
 "I'll put the word out immediately, sir. Should be simple, those cars don't exactly blend in" the greek started punching in numbers and making phone calls. He had a net of informants, sponsored by Julian, made up of pimps, dealers and thieves. The low-lifes of Cawford nights, the living low-lifes. After the last call, the greek turned to Julian again "Sorana, after the Council of Primogen, made a side-trip to a restaurant where she met with a mortal. They argued, then she left. My man talked to the guy and he hardly knew which planet he was on. So I ordered a quiet investigation. It would seem he was a private investigator. A cousin of mine broke into his apartment and found the poor sod, burning rolls of film and some papers, he was so drunk he didn't even see that someone was in his apartment. In any case, he passed out and cried in his drunken sleep, so my cousin put out the fire and had a look at the papers. Some halfbaked pictures and testimonies regarding a conspiracy. Naturally, I ordered a more thorough investigation but came up empty. It seems Sorana wrecked his mind and memories"
 
 "A clean and quiet Sorana job. The girl has skill..." he was interrupted by the greek's phone ringing.
 
 Cyprus picked up the phone and started scribbling down notes. As soon as he put down the phone, it rang again. This continued for a couple of minutes, each time Cyprus putting down some more scribbles, cutting words with harsh lines, then added more. Until finally the phone stopped ringing. Cyprus picked his notes and started "the man's car was first seen outside a church, near Augustine. Someone had hung up a priest and a nun, in indecent postures prior to the gentlemans arrival. He apparently entered the church and was in there for a couple of hours at least. The next report says he saw a squad car in front of the church and heard some gunshots. Then he saw the Mustang speed away" the greek looked up from his notes "Should I make some quiet incouragements for the case to be quieted down?"
 
 "I'm sure the man has things under control, besides it's his mess. But do keep an eye on it, to be safe, so it doesn't turn into something else. Do we know where he went, after that?"
 
 "Of course, sir. He drove straight to his place, Charlie's. The cars haven't left since"
 
 "What did he do in the church for so long?"
 
 "One of the hookers spoke to a man whose jacket said "Coroner". He told her the nun had died, that the church was completely trashed and that a lot of blood was everywhere on the floor. Seemed to him, someone had tried to wipe some ritualistic imagery drawn in blood. Supposedly it was impossible to make out anymore"
 
 "Imagery? Was he alone in there?"
 
 "Doubtful. We don't know yet, but someone will remember something, soon"
 
 "Of course. And the ghouls?"
 
 "They've all been at Charlie's all night"
 
 "Are you sure of that?"
 
 "I've got a god-child running a cardgame in the backroom there. He's seen them around all night" Cyprus put his notes down and scratched his chest "May I ask what this is about, sir?"
 
 "Heh sure. One of my boys was going to buy a shipment of guns tonight and someone beat him to the buy. This is the strange thing. The shipment wasn't highjacked, it was bought. The deal went as it should just not thorugh us who made the deal in the first place. My boy was going to sell to Bittermans people, so naturally Bitterman is a suspect"
 
 "I haven't heard anything about any of it sir. I shall put out word immediately"
 
 "Don't bother. It was a smooth operation with inside knowledge and I doubt they left any kind of traces"
 
 "Someone from our outfit?"
 
 "Probably Kindred disciplines at work. As I said, a very smooth operation. What I don't understand is, why buy the guns? Why not kill the couriers and take the guns?"
 
 "Seems someone wants to keep good relations and just went after the business end of the deal, not the manpower. Going after the men would have made it personal, this way they kept it business".
 
 The simple answer dawned upon Julian and complicated matters wide and large in his mind and in his unlife. Suddenly the simple arms-deal had become something more intricate and dangerous than what it first had seemed. He had found an answer but the answer brought 1000 new questions and complications. A bad feeling about the next few night settled on Julian. He didn't like it.
 
 Where were the brothers? They had been told to set up the meeting with Bitterman as soon as possible. What kept them? He needed to unwind "You mentioned something about some sixteen year olds, Cyprus?".
 
 The greek smiled like the maddened Cheshire cat, showing his golden teeth.                        

 

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Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #21 on: November 10, 2005, 05:57:00 PM »
                ____________________________________________
 
 Don punched a code into the intercom, listened to the short beep-sound and frowned at the silence that followed it. The Primogen wasn't in his 'office' apparently. The Nosferatu fidgeted with his headset for a second, thinking, and spun his chair around.
 
 "Ray!" he called towards a room across the corridor "Find the chief, news of the Lasombra in. Way over in fucking Augustine!" as he said that two figures appeared in the other doorway, facing Don's cockpit-like desk filled with monitors, cables and keypads
 
 "Say where!? Hehe, oh shit, no way. Don't tell me Nail ran into him?" one of them spoke
 
 "That he did, Hives. What's the funny part?" Don asked over his shoulder "Kragen and his boys went to look for that Las bastard in the exact opposite direction, now they'll never catch up with him before sunri..." he stopped mid-sentence noticing the Kindred beside Hives "Holy crap." he muttered flatly under his breath "Look like you've ran into a firing squad or something. Shouldn't you be in m...?"
 
 "I got bored." the raspy voice interrupted him "And I've got a check open with that shady creep. Where exactly is he?"
 
 "Uhuh, calm down killer. I was just going to send word to Hernandez, first things first." Don replied
 
 "I don't think so, that's still my responsibility. Where." Don sucked on his fangs, eying the two, and finally shrugged. Some people you just didn't argue with
 
 "...'Kay. Fine. Have it your way – Nail said he'd seen him bust a car down on 23rd, west from the Presbyterian in Augustine. There's a body in that car too, but I'll have some ghouls take care of that. Anyway, he'd took off north then, and in a hurry. Nail is on him now." he sat back down and turned to one of the monitors "So get there, once Nail gets a chance to call with something more specific I'll let you know."
 
 "Shit, this beats kidnapping models!" Hives said cheerily, then paused and added "...Sort of ...Hmm. Ehm, count me in anyway."
 
 Somewhere in lower Annsbridge.
 
 The thick fog which blanketed the streets didn't make Nail's job much easier, even if it did probably cover him from any distant observers. He had to shorten the distance between himself and his target in order not to lose his trail. The Kindred he was following was sticking to backstreets and poorly lit blocks, casting wary glances around every once in a while. On two instances, he'd actually stopped in a shadowed corner and seemingly waited for any followers to reveal themselves, but such measures were wasted on a Nosferatu. There were relatively few Kine on the streets, which considering the hour and neighborhood wasn't all that surprising, but the Sabbat vampire had stalked and fed from two hookers on his way, curiously leaving both alive, though most likely due to being in a hurry rather than anything else.
 
 Even though Nail was making a point of not looking up at the sky, he could nonetheless feel the dawn approach ever so slowly. It couldn't be much longer than an hour, maybe two hours away now. There was little chance of reaching his haven in time if this went on for much longer, he'd have to crash somewhere in the sewers or maybe some basement or something, luckily there usually were ample opportunities for one of the brood. Besides, his target was also Kindred, and as such just as unable to continue for much longer. They would most likely reach his destination soon, and with some luck he'd succumb to the day sooner than Nail. That was only wishful thinking, but it could happen.
 
 As he was analyzing the other vampire's walk to occupy his thoughts, which suggested the Sabbat was carrying something underneath his trench coat, Nail suddenly felt something cold on his forehead. Then another. He looked around. Snow. Great. In just a few moments, the few flakes turned into a moderate snowfall, limiting the seeing distance even further. Nail cursed to himself as the other Kindred turned a corner, he'd have to catch up or possibly lose him now. He quickened his pace and reached the chainlink fence, but as he crossed it, a gust of wind, gravity or some other factor caused the gate to move behind him with a loud creak.
 
 Nail's subconscious alarmed him to cloak his presence as shadows in the alley flickered to life and the Sabbat spun around rapidly with a feral hiss...
 
 Elsewhere.
 
 Bitterman winced as he got on his feet. A moment later Mal entered the room again.
 
 "All set" he said "Rowdy's gonna burn the old ones, 'less you've something else in mind?" Bitterman shook his head in response. As long as they'd be disposed it didn't make much difference. He stretched his arm, inspecting the recently healed wounds, as he wondered if he should expect more to come, or just call it a night before more actually did come. He caught his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Well, either way he'd have to get dressed.
 
 "Oh yeah! Wait a sec" Mal called after him, as if on cue "remember that pusher, Martinez, from downtown?" Bitterman searched his memory for a few seconds. Ah, yes. A small time fence who used to hang around a few blocks from his store in Redbrock. Spanish kid, banger, his "posse" called him something stupid... started with a "P".
 
 "Poppy?" Bitterman asked over his shoulder
 
 "Peppé." Mal corrected, leaning on the bar and wiping the smear from his hands on a piece of cloth
 
 "Whatever, Peppé. I remember. What of him?"
 
 "Some Brothers were here earlier, left a message. Apparently Peppé is, like, aching to have a talk with you. He seems to be in a hurry to get some merchandise off his hands or something. Gettin' all paranoid 'bout it too - he didn't even tell them precisely what it's all about by the looks of it. Could be big." Bitterman raised an eyebrow. Oh really? As far as he recalled, Martinez was a little flea that was aiming way to high, but he'd occasionally have an interesting bargain, and considering his suppliers, he usually wasn't picky about whom he sold to or where the payment came from, as long as his cut was large enough. Who said the Kine weren't practical. Bitterman seemed to recall he had his number... somewhere.
 
 "Well anyway, you said to keep an ear out for stuff." Mal finished with a shrug and went back to his work.
 
 Back in lower Annsbridge.
 
 ...and froze. Nail's muscles tensed as he prepared to dodge the inevitable attack, but as seconds passed, nothing happened. He'd managed to disappear out of sight before the other Kindred turned around to face him even if by just a fraction of a second, it was enough. The shadows around writhed menacingly as the Lasombra still searched for any trace of a follower, his eyes narrowed to slits. Nail instinctively focused on maintaining his cover, as the other vampire seemed to be utilizing means beyond those of normal sight.
 
 Eventually though, the shadows ceased moving at the edges of Nail's sight as the Sabbat eased his stance. Having apparently inspected the alley to his satisfaction, he turned around and resumed his journey. Nail lingered for a moment before continuing as well to avoid stepping on the other's toes. When he finally did follow, he found that they'd reached the destination, as his target moved a large metal obstruction (by the looks of it a bit heavier than an average Kine could manage to move) and slipped through the door hidden beneath it. Nail scrutinized the building. It could pass for a warehouse, or something of the sort, with one large welded-shut door and police tape over the few, boarded-shut windows. This place had too much of that "haven" look to it to be a just a checkpoint in the Lasombra's run. Come to think of it, how come did a Lasombra have a goddamned haven in Cawford? That question would have to wait, Nail realized. He had to get in touch with Don.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Skinweaver

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #22 on: November 15, 2005, 08:11:00 PM »
                In Reply To nothing in particular.
 
 The pusher didn't seem very threatning but throughout her Kindred existance, Rebecka has learned that looks could be all too decieving.
 Typical streetrash but he still showed signs of being somewhat more successful than the other vermin in the neighbourhood.
 Of course, in his vanity he had traded the hoody for last year's fashion to look more proper.
 These days in this part of town he was as much an obvious pusher as those other suits with their trinkets during the days when the word "pimp" was more an honour than an insult. Of course, these days the vermin used it as a compliment to their male associates who were lucky with the females.
 Know thy vermin... the words "king rat" came to mind and she smiled at the thought from her vantage point on the parkbench.
 
 "Of course, he must be armed."
 
 She thought. No dumb muscle around to protect him so of course he would have to arm himself against the crazies who wanted his lucky charms without paying.
 Judging by his skittish behaviour and his way of looking around like a scared bird revealed him to be lightly armed or doped up on something. Probably both.
 Maybe a switchblade or a Glock. Possibly even a Tech 9 but she doubted it. Big guns always made the males confident and this one was scared.
 Obviously on the wrong sides of the tracks or maybe something in his simple vermin mind told him that something other then the average, sweaty bum was around. In any case, Rebecka would need a sample.
 No matter how much this pusher's behaviour revealed about himself one could never be too sure.
 For a moment, she considered probing his mind for an clue as to what he was thinking before deciding.
 
 Mumbling. These creatures always had things going on in their minds, never capable of settling for one focused thought even when sleeping or mating!
 Names, places, childhood memories... oh, yes. Daddy had really liked the sauce and mommy had been chewing painkillers like candy.
 Fun for the whole family!
 What a surprise that sis was born blind with no hair! Right... entertaining but irrelevant... last night... scruffy guy that reeked of... cigars?
 Could be important. The ratking had obviouly been frightened by this man. Maybe his employer?
 No, something was wrong about the guy. His eyes had been weird. More than usual. And his voice... a strong clue indeed but she still needed that sample to confirm things.
 
 "What are we thinking of now, ratking?"
 
 Images. Fear. Something was bothering him... people. Filthy, filthy people. Everywhere.
 Wonderful! Too bad that his views were to twisted and his mind useless. The Kooks could have this one if they ever found him...
 A name... what could be his name...
 Rebecka stood up from her bench and walked over to the ratking where he stood in his alleyway.
 
 "You Miles? A friend of mine told me to talk to you since I'm thinking of organising a little private party."
 
 The ratking looked to both his sides and behind his back before answering.
 Obviously anxious.
 
 "Who's asking? I... uh... only deal with respectable folks. Reliable and... trustworthy... you know."
 
 "Reliable? Like that kid over there? Or the less than dressed young lady over there? The name is Chalmers. Linda Chalmers if you must know. Don't bother looking it up. I'm more connected than you can possibly hope to be."
 
 "Don't tell me how to run my buinsess, OK? I know... people and they know how to deal with... untrustworthy folks. Now, what do you want? I... I carry lots of nice stuff in here. You'd be surprised how many kinds of... things that have been popping up on the market the last few wee... I mean years."
 
 "I know what I want, thank you. It's different from your other stock. Not like the snow or the chillpills. Special stuff. Trust me. My client is very demanding and I know all about this whole little arrangement already so you can trust me on this."
 
 "You sure... that you're not a cop? Cuz' I know how to deal with cops...."
 
 The ratking reached slowly into his jacket to grab something. Hopefully not that Glock. Those things always stung something terrible...
 The Tremere offered the ratking a knowing smile to calm him down a bit and it seemed to acturally work.
 
 "Not a cop. Do you see a badge anywhere? And don't get any ideas, ratboy, the coat stays closed."
 
 Either the rat was easy to trick or just plain dumb but he acturally fell for it. Must have been the drugs...
 
 "No cop is that suspicious. Here's the bag. Premium stuff... you know, I expect the usual payment for this. Up front... cash. No tricks! I know... people..."
 
 Of course. Payment! What could possibly be a suitable price for this kind of poison?
 If she would ask, the ratking would get suspicious for sure.
 Confidence...
 
 "Of course. I'd never rip you off! Here's 250 and keep the change."
 
 "Pretty rich for a junkie. I mean, just look at your skin... all pale and pasty... altough, you're pretty generous. I'll... uh... set you up with something special next time."
 
 Rebecka smiled at the pusher as she took the small bag of powder and stuffed it into her pocket.
 Phew! Lucky break! What if he had demanded a thousand or something more... revolting? With the sample in hand she could head back to the chantry for the tests. Hopefully it wouldn't distract her too much from her duties.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Grendel8101

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #23 on: November 15, 2005, 08:27:00 PM »
                So Martinez wanted to deal?  Not surprising, punks like him flood the market.  I don’t like dealing with kids like him, they have a bad habit of fucking up deals.  Always too eager, too greedy, too willing to take chances.  They die a lot.  But business is business.
 
 I should make the punk call me, but I have an hour and some change before the sun comes up and I don’t have anything better to do.  I find his number and dial.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What?â€?  Martinez said.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I hear you’re looking to talk with me.â€?  I say.
 
 There’s a silence.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Bitterman?  Yo, ese’, I been trying to get ahold of you, man.  I got business.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“So talk.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I got shit to move, an I gotta move it now, ese’.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“So how’s that my problem?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“…Bits, listen-â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Call me Bits again and I’ll feed you your tongue.â€?  You got to remind the punks who they’re talking to, especially when they start acting like an equal.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry, man, sorry.  You know me, I don’t want to piss you off, you hear?  You got the cajones, I just trying to make a buck, you know?â€?  
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“If I wanted a blowjob I would’ve stopped by your sister’s.  Tell me the deal.â€?  He was good and flustered by now.  
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay, man, I got you.  I got some shit you might be interested in, but I got to move it.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“How much heat?â€?
 
 He hesitated.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Not-â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Bullshit.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay, there’s some heat, but you can get around it, ese, I swear!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What kind of heat?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“It ain’t blue.â€?  The police weren’t looking for it then.  Whoever he’d stolen it from was.
 
 He told me the amount.  I had to say, I was impressed.  
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ll get back to you.â€? I told him, and hung up.
 
 I went back downstairs.  Rowdy and Mal were helping themselves to a drink.  Star was dancing by herself near the jukebox.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Martinez just offered me enough guns to supply the Chinese army.  I want to know where he got ‘em from.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you Boss,â€? Rowdy said.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“You know that deal we were going to set up with that big-time Ventrue, Rocher’s kid?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Massicus?  What happened?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sounds like somebody bought all the guns he was gonna sell to us before he could buy them.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Bought?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Bought.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You didn’t…â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No Boss, it wasn’t me this time.  I learned my lesson last time, I swear!â€?  Rowdy had been my ghoul too long.  He was starting to pick up some unpredictable habits.
 
 I looked him in the eyes.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“<orange>Don’t lie to me</orange>.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m not!â€?
 
 I bit my tongue lightly, thinking.  I was betting Martinez was trying to sell me Julian’s guns.  I might be able to get them cheaper from the punk.  Problem was, he was the middleman.  I was going to want to talk to his boss.  I needed to know the specifics, you don’t just shoulder out a guy like Massicus without a substantial dollar value.
 
 I went back upstairs and dialed Martinez’ number.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s me,â€? I said, “tell whoever you’re working for I want to meet with him.â€?
 
 There was a pause.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sure, man, whatever you say.  How about tomorrow at noon?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Tomorrow night or never, kid, I got shit to do after tomorrow and I’m busy during the day.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay.â€?                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

  • Methuselah
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Re: Family Business
« Reply #24 on: November 16, 2005, 10:06:00 PM »
                Her cab gone, Rebecka found herself forced to walk, at least until finding another one. Which could be a while, considering the neighborhood. Still, dawn wasn't close enough to be worried yet, so she casually made her way towards one of the main streets, where her chances of catching a cab would be substantially higher. She pocketed the plastic container purchased from the dealer while walking and looked around. Most of the shops around were closed and sealed tight behind reinforced shutters, but in some displays here and there first Christmas decorations appeared. Even here, in the indisputably worst part of the city, the Kine prepared for the supposedly joyous season. Hell, one of the lowlifes standing around a burning barrel even called some mumbled season's greetings to her, for whatever reason. She didn't pay that rabble much mind though, as her thoughts were currently occupied with the man following her.
 
 She'd first noticed him watching her even before making the transaction with the dealer, but from the blank look in his eyes he fit right in with what passed for the pusher's "clientele", so he didn't seem worth the attention. When she'd made her choice of ware however, her admirer's gaze focused, and he'd been trailing her ever since. She didn't need to turn around to notice that "on the hunt" look on him, even though he tried hard to be inconspicuous. Either horribly inexperienced or playing with her. He didn't really look Kindred, though with some you never knew for sure at first glance.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Sodom40280831

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #25 on: November 19, 2005, 07:41:00 AM »
                Nail was investigating the area around the warehouse for any way to contact Don. There didn’t seem to be a payphone anywhere in sight and he was just about to leave out of fear for the rising sun when he suddenly heard a phone ringing near him. Following the rather annoying James Bond ring-tone led him to a dumpster which had a smell coming from it that could knock even the most experienced garbage-man out cold. The smell was being produced by the half-decayed body of what looked to be a woman lying in the dumpster. After searching the body Nail found the ringing cell-phone in her purse and, being the polite undead gentleman he was, answered the call. A high-pitched male voice came in from the other side.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Kristy? Is that you? I swear to god she means nothing to me! And……I can’t even remember her name! And……..it wasn’t even that good! And……..I love you! And…….
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry pal but Kristy can’t talk right now, I’ve got my tongue halfway up her brain. Bye!â€?
 
 Nail couldn’t help but smile while he was dialling Don’s number, but there was a time for play and a time for work.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Nail, is that you man?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yep and I’m standing outside the Lasombra’s haven.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Outstanding work! I’m tracking the cellphone you’re calling from. Hives and Pauline should be there any minute.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Pauline? I thought she was out of action?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well you thought wrong, she’s back in action and mad as hell at the Lasombra. And it’s a good thing too because you’re gonna need her. That Lasombra is a real badass, but the three of you should be able to take him.â€?
 
 Nail was staring nervously at the sky, he didn’t have a lot of time to be hanging around while the sun was about to come up.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Don, I’m a little short on time here.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Just stay cool, it won’t take more than a minute or two. And remember, we want him alive! You hear that?!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah, I hear ya.â€?
 
 Nail hung up the phone and started pacing around. The snow was getting thicker. After two minutes Nail saw a figure emerging from the snow. It was Hives.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well fancy meeting you here handsome! You didn’t think we’d let you have all the fun did ya?!â€?
 
 Nail was about to return Hives greeting when he heard heavy breathing coming from behind him. It was Pauline and she had murderous rage in her eyes. She looked at Nail the way a comic book villain looks at one of his minions when he needs to vent some rage on someone weaker than him.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where is he?â€?
 
 She asked in a tone that would make the grim reaper himself shit his robes. Nail didn’t feel at all comfortable around her but if there was one thing he knew how to do it was hide his fear from others.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“In the warehouse, through the hole behind the big metal thing.â€?
 
 Pauline immediately stomped towards the entrance and tossed aside the metal obstruction as if it was made of foam rubber and ventured inside, leaving Nail and Hives with a raised eyebrow.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hey Nail, do you think it’s still possible for vampire women to have “that time of the monthâ€?.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I honestly wouldn’t know Hives.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hey! You guys coming or what?!â€? Pauline yelled from inside the building. The two Nosferatu quickly followed her inside.
 
 Beyond the entrance was a staircase which led into the buildings basement. Following the staircase led the three to a locked steel door. Nail stepped forward, readied the long, sharp fingernail on his index-finger and started picking the lock. However, after a few seconds Pauline lost her patience and started bashing at the door using potence. The door held out for a few seconds before it fell backwards causing an enormous BANG to echo through the building.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well, so much for the subtle approach.â€? Nail commented.
 
 The corridor behind the door led them to a large square room with a bed and a table with four wooden chairs surrounding it. There were bloodstains throughout the room and two long dead bodies were lying in the corner. There was no sign of the Lasombra.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Crap, he must have heard the door fallingâ€? Pauline said as Nail replied with an accusing look and an overly sarcastic “Gee, ya think so?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Really funny, Come out where we can see you asshole!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Um Nail, Pauline, I don’t mean to be a crybaby here but I sortta can’t move.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I seriously can’t move!â€?
 
 But before Nail had a chance to think of something to do he received a tremendous blow to the back of his head. Another one would have knocked him out if Pauline didn’t jump on the sucker-punching Sabbat and pinned him to the floor making him lose his hold over Hives. The Lasombra used potence and started punching away at Pauline, who was forced to let go of him. Nail and Hives immediately joined in and surrounded their prey. After Pauline got back on her feet she picked up one of the chairs, charged at the Lasombra like a wild animal and practically knocked his head off of his shoulders. Nail and Hives then started throwing punches at him until he lost consciousness. However, Pauline didn’t let that stop her and kept on going.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Uh…..Pauline? You can stop now, he’s unconscious, we don’t want to go on and torpor him now do we?â€?
 
 Nail asked with a slight look of concern on his face.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh I’ll do more than fucking Torpor him!â€?
 
 Pauline replied as she took a lighter and a small container from her pocket. She emptied the container over the unconscious body of the Lasombra, judging from the smell of it the container was filled with gasoline. After drenching his face and clothing with the gasoline from the container she produced a small flame with the lighter which she started moving towards the Lasombra.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh shit! She’s gonna torch him!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Now Pauline, think about what you’re doing!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh I know what I’m doing! I’m gonna get back at this asshole for what he did to me and Doe!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Pauline, we need him for information!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Fuck that! I want him dead!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh come on! You don’t honestly think we’re going to let him live do you?â€?
 
 Pauline paused for a moment.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I promise you that as soon as we get the information we want out of him which will probably happen through excruciatingly painful torture you can kill him in the best way you see fit.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hmmm I guess you’ve got a point, torturing this little bastard will be much more fun than just killing him while he isn’t even conscious. C’mon, let’s find some rope and tie him to one of the chairs. Then we can get some shut-eye. Oh and the bed is mine.â€?
 
 Nail and Hives let out a deep sigh of relief.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hives man, I’m practically certain of it. Women are going to be the final death of me.â€?
                       

 

-----signature-----
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Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

  • Methuselah
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Re: Family Business
« Reply #26 on: November 20, 2005, 12:06:00 PM »
                Hives snickered at the remark as both he and Nail looked around for something sturdy enough to tie the Sabbat with. After a minute or so Hives threw his hands up in exasperation
 
 "Eh, who are we kidding, there ain't shit in here. We can just as well sit on him and wait till tomorrow night, cuz there's nothing here to secure him, and I know I'm not tearing my stylish threads up to tie him up with. I mean..." he stopped mid-sentence "Err... Pauline? Didn't we all just agree we don't waste him just yet?" he said, seeing her standing above the unmoving Lasombra with fists clenched "Chill, we're..." before he finished Pauline had lashed out with a grunt, and an unpleasant impaling noise came from the lying body.
 
 "...fucked." Hives modified the end of that sentence to better fit the situation "Aw, shit! You do know that Hernandez is going to have us tarred and feathered for this one, right?" he added, expecting the Lasombra to turn to ash any second. Nail, who was standing on the other side of the room and saw what really happened, just rolled his eyes
 
 "Oh, calm down. You sound like a fifteen year old caught on smoking weed, man." he said
 
 "Consider him 'secured'." Pauline added, as she walked from the staked vampire and crashed on the bed. Hives looked at her, then Nail and then the broken-off chair leg, protruding from the Lasombra's chest. He scratched his chin.
 
 "I guess that works too."                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Skinweaver

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #27 on: December 01, 2005, 06:58:00 AM »
               
 Who was this man? Rebecka looked over her shoulder and saw the mysterious tail make a poor attempt to hide.
 A stalker, then. But why? Usually, these people were driven by one out of four things:
 Curiosity, greed, ambition to prove themselves or just the simple desire to mate.
 This one seemed determined to follow her without revealing himself and even though he was failing horribly, he kept trying. Hope. So simple.
 In the corner of her one functional eye she saw that the stalker certainly wasn’t from th upper columns of society.
 In an obvious attemtps to improve his typical vermin looks, the man had bleached his hair.
 Mortal vanity. Though, she was hardly in any position to judge him since her own hair was dyed white prior to her embrace.
 Aside from that, the stalker had placed numerous objects underneath and through his skin.
 A mark common among the vermin to prove themselves in initiationrites for their streetside tribes. Not surprisingly, these traits were common among the fresh Rabble and Fiends too.
 Could he possibly be a ghoul of some kindred master?
 Only one way to find out, really. He wouldn’t stop following her until she would reach the chantry and that couldn’t be tolerated.
 What to do? She turned around, facing the man who instantly tried to hide.
 His aura seemed human. Still, there was something odd about it.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why are you following me?â€?
 
 Even in the gloom of the alleyway, Rebecka could see the the fear in his eyes.
 She took a moment to probe his mind to see his thoughts. Knowing this would be vital to avoid having him run away.
 Yes, obvious fear. He wanted to run for his life. Skittish like the animal he was.
 He took a step back, fingering something inside his jacket. Probably a weapon.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What the Hell are you talking about? I’m just walking around, minding my own and... like, you know.â€?
 
 The vampire took a step towards the stalker, effectively closing the distance.
 She could almost smell his fear. There had to be a reason. Soon...
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“No I don’t. Tell me.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Mind your own business, bitch! I got nothing to say to you.â€?
 
 So his lips would remain sealed? Well, just like that run down store at the end of the street his mind would always be open.
 Again, the same blur the ratking had offered. Thousands of images all flickering around.
 Focus! Current thoughts... hmm...
 She might as well confront him with this. It might prove risky but she could always make him forget afterwards.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“You wanted me to use this, right?â€?
 
 She picked out the bag of mortal poison from her pocket and waved it about.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“And then, when I would lie there gurgling my own juices you would use that little bottle in your pocket on me. Chloroform, right? Very clever. Orders from the big bossman, I assume?â€?
 
 The stalker’s fear seemed to multiply like a virus in his mind and his legs started to shake.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“How the fuck did you know? Oh, shit... stay back!â€?
 
 A weapon, yes. He pulled out a rather cheap pistol and aimed it at her head.
 Fear would cause him to shoot at any moment and he was too far away to strike at him.
 Only one choice, then. Hopefully she would have enough left in her to make him forget this whole ordeal later.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Drop that.â€?
 
 The weapon fell to the ground with a clatter and the stalker took yet another step back.
 He was now backed up against the wall with no way to escape.
 A delicate situation. Maybe after this little interrogation she could taste him a bit before making him forget? A little below her usual standard but would the starved deny a meal that is offered? Of course, he might defend himself. She kept her distance for now.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Who told you to do these things to me? Why? Tell me. Now...â€?
 
 The man looked around for a possible escape route but he was trapped.
 He was now a threat both to her and to himself but his fear could still be used against him.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What the fuck are you?! Stay back! Oh, fuck... get away from me... I... uhh... ah, shit...â€?
                       

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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  • Posts: 278
Re: Family Business
« Reply #28 on: December 01, 2005, 06:29:00 PM »
                "Tell me why." she said casually, taking care to stay out of his reach
 
 "Sh-shit. Didn't mean no harm lady, fuck, seriously, we always let 'em go afterwards and shit, we's only... only, uh..." Rebecka frowned. We? Who was 'we' then?
 
 "You and who else?"
 
 The would-be-stalker looked at his gun, out of his reach by now, briefly and bit his lip. His eyes darted from the gun to the street several times. Rebecka realized he was gathering his courage to leap for it and decided no to take any chances. She caught his glance and put her will into the command
 
 "Hold still. And answer me already." The first part hit home, as the man seemed to root to the spot in an instant, though his clenched jaw was not a sign of a testimony to come anytime soon, whether she didn't put the command properly or scared him too much was irrelevant. This was getting her nowhere, and dawn was too close to play cat and mouse with this lowlife. She looked into his eyes and focused.
 
 Sorting through the chaotic stream of thoughts in only a few seconds took effort, but she found what she was looking for, and even more than she was expecting to find. In the fraction of a second however, as she was hearing the man's current thoughts, she felt his relief and she instantly broke the connection to react. Before she could turn around though, a blow to the back of her head sent her vision swirling and vertigo claimed her.
 
 
 
 "I'm sorry miss Jackson (oooh) I am for real
 Ne-ver meant to make your daugh-ter cry
 I apologized a million times..."

 
 "Hello and good morning Pennsylvania! The clock just sang 7:00 AM and you're listening to WKYP radio at 93.3 FM. It's a freezing 25 degrees outside on this December Wednesday morning, so unless you need to get to work or are just realizing you've woken up in someone else's bedroom – we strongly advise you to stay home. At WKYP we've got everything you need to get the day started, outside of a cup of coffee. That you'll have to make yourself."
 
 "I'm sorry miss Jackson (oooh) I am for real"
 
 "As Outkast here is ending their song, it would be a good moment for those who missed it yesterday to look through the window. Whoa. Pretty white outside, isn't it? Yes, bring out the sleds and call Santa, cause it looks like Christmas will be real snowy this year, right Jen?"
 
 "No kidding, Rick. You wouldn't believe it yesterday, but today morning we've had several inches of fresh snow here on the East Coast. I barely found my own car earlier, heh, heh. If you're running late on your Xmas shopping, you might want to consider looking for that sweater you've got from grandma last year, folks. Winter is back with a vengeance."
 
 "Heh, heh. You probably weren't the only one having a car problem this morning, Jen. In fact, let's go directly to Steve for the traffic report right now. How's the situation on the roads, Steve?..." Tony clicked off the radio at that point and focused on the road. There was only so much cheery-radio-host conversation he could take. And he had no reasons to feel particularly cheery himself at that moment, first he got on Julian's bad side because of that deal gone bad, and now he was on his way to the Greek with information that could make that previous fuckup seem like a Sunday picnic. Not that any of this had been his fault, but delivering bad news had this habit on killing the messenger in the process.
 
 Lost in those thoughts, he almost missed his exit, resulting in a last second jerk or the steering wheel and a near-crash with another car. Luckily the driver of the gray pickup wasn't as preoccupied, and managed to dodge Tony's vehicle by a few inches. A trail of obscenities followed from his mouth, and although Tony couldn't hear any of them, he did catch the other man's reflection in his rear view mirror and snorted at the other's image.
 
 "Asshole." he muttered under his breath "You'd be speeding too if you were in my place. Go home to wifey and kids and be glad I haven't got time to turn around and make you eat those words." That took some of the anger out of him, but he didn't feel better for much longer. He was at the Greek's place. Making sure he wasn't followed, parking the car and talking his way past all the armed muscle around took about ten minutes, but it felt like hours. Still, eventually he was in Cyprus' "office", for lack of a better word, watching the heavily-built ghoul walk tracks into the way-too-expensive carpets. He was not a man easy to anger or unnerve but he definitely wasn't overjoyed with Tony's information either.
 
 "Julian has to know about this as soon as possible." Tony said wearily. He came here for advice, not to watch the Greek pace there and forth like a pendulum in slow-motion for half an hour, for God's sake. He glanced at the desk, where the pictures he brought were laying as the Greek had dropped them.
 
 "No." Cyprus answered distractedly. Tony raised his eyebrows an inch higher. What the hell?
 
 "What do ya mean "no"? How in the..."
 
 "No. No, no, no. If that info proves wrong and he finds out, he'll fuck you up so bad you're going to forget your own mother's name. This would be your last mistake." Not to mention the last mistake of anyone else who had their part in the investigation, the Greek thought to himself. He'd know, as he set Tony on that trail in the first place. "So no. I want this checked. I want this double checked, and triple checked, before anyone tells anyone anything. That clear?"
 
 
 
 "...I'm not going to be able to help you about the specifics of the information we have. I think we've indicated that there are a number of groups, terrorist groups, that we watch very closely in the world that are capable and have a disposition to undertake terrorist actions against the United States, against Americans, and we're vigilant in regard to all of them."
 
 "With that Mr. Foley thanked the press and ended the briefing. And so, the question of travel security in the holiday season remains a delicate subject, though several Embassies have already said that the Secretary's assessments will be taken into consideration."
 
 "In related news, the State Authorities have released a statement in response to the recent bombings in New York and Baltimore in which they assure that those occurrences, while obviously alarming, are in no way connected to any terrorist movements, though the evidence on which this is based, is yet to be brought forth. Further, the officials have said that both the bombings, and the violent devastation of several famous landmarks along the East Coast, the Atlanta High Museum of Arts among others, which of course should be considered acts of grand scale vandalism, have not claimed any lives, as unlikely as it may sound. Investigations are in progress, however, and to quote the statement: the party responsible for those acts of destruction will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.
 
 Meanwhile, the party in question, has apparently moved it's operations south, as the Grand Plaza Theater as well as the PriceWellCo. building in Cawford have burned to the ground in mysterious circumstances no further than last week. While the official explanation is that of a malfunctioned power installation, already are there speculations of cover-up conspiracies. We will follow the story as it evolves..."
 
 "...This concludes the Channel9 News noon edition, stay tuned for the weather forecast, and we will see you tomorrow. Have a nice day."
 
 ...
 
 "Good afternoon, I'm Gina Hones, welcome to C9 Weather. This night's rapid snowfall has paralyzed much of the traffic in southern Pennsylvania. Officials told our correspondent that several highways and a total of 30 village roads have been closed to traffic. Highway teams are currently working to clear snow on the roads, but an improvement isn't to be expected during the next few hours. Snow will spread northeast across all areas. Further heavy snow, accompanied by gale or severe gale force winds, will spread across the southeast until the early evening hours."
 
 
 
 "Sure, I'll let him know." Rowdy said to the receiver "…Yes, you've said this was urgent twice before already, I heard you the first time. I'll be sure to tell him so." he added after a pause and ended the conversation soon after. Glancing at his watch, he emptied the whiskey glass into the sink and grabbed his coat. It was getting late and he hasn't slept in like sixty hours, he should head home. Should tell Mal about the phone call first though, that damned guy could go without sleep for days, even a week with some effort, let him relate it to Bitterman when he wakes later.
 
 When Rowdy left the backroom, Mal seemed to be occupied with one of the patrons. Rowdy leaned against the bar and helped himself to a bowl of peanuts, a couple more minutes weren't going to make much difference anyway. He looked at the other people in the bar to see if there was anyone he didn't know.
 
 "...been yet. You can wait here if you want." Mal said absentmindedly while setting up a line of shot-glasses on the bar  
 
 "Daym dog, we was 'sposta meet, like, an hour ago." Peppé replied sourly, to which Mal chuckled
 
 "I seriously doubt that."
 
 "Yeah, whatever gramps. I gots ta tell someone we 'gon be later, aight?" the younger man replied, reaching under his much too large jacket to fetch a (much to small, in turn) cell phone "Pour me a Loca inna meantime, dog. I half froze a fuckin' nut off driving here. My ride be all like we... Uh. Hello? Holla, holla. It's yo' boy, put me through to the man, eh?. Yo, this important. Yeah, really. Yeah, fuck, I'll hold."
 
 "You do that. I'll get back to you in a minute." Mal said, noticing Rowdy giving him an impatient look. He swiftly filled the glasses and made his way to the other side of the bar, where they could talk more freely.
 
 "...Yo, an' hold the juice on that motherfucker, esse. I drink 'em sour." Martinez called after him covering the phone receiver with his hand. Mal nodded at him over his shoulder, rolled his eyes and turned to the other ghoul.
 
 "What's up?"
 
 "I'm beat, heading home. I think Star bailed some time ago, said she had something to pick up from the shop. Don't know what's keeping her, but she should be back soon. But listen, that's not what I wanted to talk about. When the boss shows up, tell him one of Masscius' boys called earlier. Apparently they were trying to get in touch since last night. They want to talk." Rowdy said
 
 "Uhuh. About?"
 
 "Didn't say. Seems obvious enough if what we heard about their guns is true though. I dunno, either they want to set up a new deal or think something's foul on our end."
 
 "That'd be awfully quick." Mal said scratching his chin thoughtfully "If it went down like your guy said it did, they shouldn't be pointing fingers already. I think they shouldn't, at least. Fuck. Let the boss figure this one out. I'll tell him they called, you're free to go, I guess."
 
 "Kay. Should the ugly bastard from downtown know anything more tonight I'll send the word. I don't know how those sewer creeps got wind of that deal in the first place, but I'll call if he digs anything more up. He still owes both me and Bitter. By the way, who's Antonio Bandanas over there?" Rowdy asked, nodding at Martinez
 
 "Chief's appointment. That Peppé idiot. They've got a meeting somewhere."
 
 "That's Martinez? Heh, no shit. I thought he was supposed to be a serious gangster type or whatever. What's this guy, seventeen at best?"
 
 "Who cares." Mal shrugged "Been here for a while, waiting around. Apparently he's to take the boss to talk to someone." seeing Rowdy's expression, he added with a smirk "Yeah, he seems to think they'll be taking his car, that pimp-mobile just outside. That'll be a bag of laughs."
 
                         

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Sodom40280831

  • Neonate
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  • Posts: 84
Re: Family Business
« Reply #29 on: December 04, 2005, 11:35:00 AM »
                Oooooooh
 This is a story `bout a guy named Al
 and he lived in a sewer with his hamster-pal

 
 Nail and Hives were merrily chanting while marching along through the Cawford sewer-system carrying the paralyzed Lasombra. Pauline went upfront and tried to ignore the sound of her companions attempt at singing. After a few minutes of wandering the team stopped in front of a brick wall, Pauline pulled out two loose bricks revealing a small keyboard, she punched in a few numbers, hit enter and the wall slid to the side revealing a passage.
 
 When they arrived at the warrens main entrance Nail and Hives handed Pauline the Lasombra stiff.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“So, one of you boys wanna come with me and see what we can get out of mr. tall, dark and soon-to-be-screaming-his-undead-lungs-out-in-agonizing-pain Sabbat here?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I think I’ll pass, thank you very much.â€? Hives replied with a slight look of horror on his face brought on by the thought of what Pauline was going to do to her victim. Besides, if she got a little carried away she might frenzy and Hives didn’t want to be anywhere near her when that happened.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah me too, besides I have some other things to do.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Your loss.â€? Pauline said as she grabbed the Lasombra by the throat with one hand and started dragging him to the interrogation room.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well I’ve got some things to check up on myself. So I’ll be seein’ ya handsome.â€? Hives said to Nail as he turned around and disappeared into one of the corridors still humming the “weird Al show themeâ€?. With the events of last night still on his mind Nail decided to pay a visit to Don to get a little more info on the Malkavian he encountered.
 
 Nail opened the door to Don’s haven to find him sitting behind his computers as always. It took Don a moment to tear his eyes away from the monitor but eventually he noticed Nail standing in the doorway.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well if it isn’t my fucking hero. We spend I-don’t-know-how-long looking for that Sabbat bastard and you just walk on the street and he crashes his goddamn car right in front of you!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well for your information, I was sitting on a bench when it happened.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Funnaaaay, so what can I do for you hero.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well you can start by just calling me Nail. And after that you can help me get a little info on a Malkavian I ran into last night.â€?    
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sure, just give me a name.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Don’t have one. Just a description.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well there aren’t that many Malkavians in Cawford so I guess that will be fine too.â€?
 
 Don punched in a few letters and the words: “Cawford kindred database searchâ€? appeared on the main screen.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Allright Nail, shoot.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“He’s about six feet tall, muscular, bald, had kind of a military look about him.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Anything else?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hmm.. he had a really flashy car, I think it was a mustang, from the seventies by the look of it.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh him! Why didn’t you say so man. There are only like two people in Cawford who own a car like that and one of them is human.â€?
 
 Don typed in the name Bitterman and a photograph of the Malkavian from last night appeared on the screen along with a list of everything the Nosferatu knew of him.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“This is the guy you’re looking for. Showed up in Cawford somewhere in the seventies, he owns an army surplus store in Redbrock and a bar in Venice called “Charlie’s tavernâ€?. His ghouls keep both places running. He was a big help to the Camarilla when we were still fighting the Sabbat.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What do we know about his past?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I did a background-check on him some time ago and came up with very little. We only know he was embraced in Vietnam somewhere in the sixties. He was probably in the U.S. military but seeing as we don’t know his birth-name that is all we can come up with.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What about his……..condition?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Huh? Oh you mean: “how many bricks is his building missing?â€? Well you don’t run two businesses by jumping around with your underwear on your head and poking out your own eyes so I don’t think you have to worry about stuff like that. But still…..
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“What?â€?  
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well we try to keep a close watch on the Malkavians in Cawford seeing as its only a matter of time before they start some sort of trouble and Bitterman….well…..it seems as though he’s all there but its like…… he doesn’t know that.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Huh?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Y’know sometimes he just kinda……… spaces out or something. He starts acting like he’s in a totally different place.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I think I see……sort of. Anything recent I should know about?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah, Bitterman had some big arms deal set up with Rocher’s kid Massicus but someone beat Massicus to the buy. And seeing as Bitterman was supposed to buy the guns from Massicus that makes our burly little kook a suspect.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Interesting. I think that’s all the info I need, thanks.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Anytime man. Oh before I forget. Some of our contacts on the street have been disappearing along with some hookers and low-life drug dealers. We don’t know what’s going on and we don’t like it. So keep your ears open for any information.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Will do, thanks again.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sure man, now get the hell out! I have work to do.â€?
 
 When Nail opened the door to his Haven he felt extremely relieved. He dropped himself on his bed and used his right hand to open a small cage standing next to the bed containing five large rats while using his left hand to reach for the remote control to the television in front of his bed. As he took a rat out of the cage and brought it to his mouth he switched on the television. It had been a real bitch getting reception down in the warrens but with a little creative wiring and some help from Don Nail had eventually managed to get a few channels in black and white. The classic movie channel had a late night showing of “The Elephant Manâ€? and Nail switched on his tv right in time to hear John Hurt’s famous cry:
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I AM NOT AN ANIMAL, I AM A HUMAN BEING!â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Pussy.â€? Nail muttered under his breath.
                       

 

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           I'm so serious it's comical!