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Author Topic: Raven's Call  (Read 13864 times)

Offline [archive] dalver

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #30 on: March 29, 2005, 03:42:00 PM »
                Her hard matter of fact voice had an odd calming effect. A Ventrue dominatrix. He had never seen, not even heard, about her using any kind of disciplines. She was good enough, like that, always getting what she wanted using nothing more than her natural abilities, he figured.
 
 She turned her back to him and let down her hair, running her fingers through it. He could smell the musky scent of... pine? Was she using something on him? He could smell her hair! His head swam and he felt the vitae run through his body, he felt warmth in his cheeks. She pulled back her hair and fastened it. He made an effort to regain control of his blood and returned the color of his cheeks to their natural green.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sit downâ€? she said.
 
 He sat. She said something more but the smell of pine in her office was overwhelming, he didn’t catch what she said, but she pushed a folder across her desk. He reached a claw and picked up the folder. How could it smell of pine when a Nosferatu was in a small room? Maybe she had prepared...
 
 He opened the folder and pretended to read. His mind swam. Why was she even speaking to him? How could she speak to him? He owed her a fat boon. They met sometimes and she always acted cool and businesslike, always. Because their dealings always were business, delivering messages or parcels between their elders. Every time he met her something broke inside him. She was a living wound to him as every time he looked upon her, the memory of his sin with all its horror returned to him and it took days, weeks even to mend that scar. Until next time he met her and the wound bled again.
 
 Words swam on the paper in front of him. His mind swam on. He had indebted himself even more to her now when he had asked her to examine the relic. He had gambled and the play was still on. Only he couldn’t think straight. He needed to leave, this wasn’t getting him anywhere.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I-I-Interesting... But I have to go... I will read this and contact you...â€?
 
 He rose abruptly, wanted to throw himself out the door, intoxicated with... what? Her? Why?
 
 She had a look of concern on her face, probably the first feeling he had seen from her. “What is the matter? Are you okay?â€? she asked.
 
 Suddenly a question came to him, the only thing that mattered. He met her eyes. By Lilith’s tresses! Those eyes! He stared into them and reached for the doorframe to steady himself. He held the frame in a tight squeeze as he said “Can you k-k-keep it for me? Can you k-k-keep it safe?â€? His claws made grooves in the wood “Can... I... trust you... ?â€?                        

 

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Offline [archive] Lauren35297354

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #31 on: March 29, 2005, 04:14:00 PM »
                Lauren's phone rang just after Dreg, had asked her to keep something secret, and safe, she was assuming he meant the file.  Holding up a finger to have him wait, she answered. "Lauren." That was about the only word she was able to get out for the entire one sided conversation.  Jamming the end button, she placed the phone back on her desk, an idea was already brewing that not only keep the building intact, but destroy the evidence as well.  
    She was smiling by the time she turned back to Dreg.  "Of course I will. Did you have to ask if you could trust me?  The Ventrue are honor bound to help any of the kindred that ask.  What is it you need be to hold onto for you?  The file?"
    Benedict's comment on spontaneous combustion would definitely work, but perhaps not the way he had intended, but it would do what he wanted, and she would never even be questioned by the humans about it. hmm.  Which chemicals to use, the right combination would burn the body and the evidence, and if the correct ones where used...
    He had spoken, but she had been thinking so hard she hadn't heard him.  "I'm sorry Dreg.  What did you say"
                       

 

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           The good thing about working mostly in a morgue.  You can talk as much as you want, about whatever you want, and the bodies won't ever complain.    
                                                  

Offline [archive] dalver

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #32 on: March 29, 2005, 06:22:00 PM »
                Something clicked inside Dregs head. The smell of pine was gone. His mind cleared, like a veil being lifted from his eyes. Dr Lauren McRae was all business, as usual. He had to get a grip on himself! What the hell happened?
 
 He quickly caught himself and remembered an old friend he used to feed from. An old friend that had passed away many years ago. He straightened and threw the mask of a thousand faces on, he used the vitae to bend the perception of himself onto others.
 
 The air seemed to shimmer around him and then an old man in brown tweed jacket and eyeglasses stood before Lauren, the very essence of a professor. Dreg thought hard, tried to remember the way the professor used to accentuate and pronounce the words as well as the bodylanguage he used when explaining the task for next weeks homework, he fuelled this image with vitae. The old man said “The relic, dear doctor. The relic that you have examined. Can I trust it to you, can I trust you will keep it hidden. Can I trust that this matter will remain between us?â€?.                        

 

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Offline [archive] Lauren35297354

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #33 on: March 29, 2005, 06:52:00 PM »
                "Dreg, stop that."  Lauren was offended that he felt he had to hide his true form from her, he never had before, a look of hurt crossed briefly on her face. "You know you can trust me, I've never betrayed your secrets, and the relic is somewhere safe."  Her hand reaching up to touch the cord around her neck, most of it hidden under the lab coat and scrub top.
   
    About that time, the orderly from earlier returned with another gurney, probably the one Benedict told her was coming. He called out from the main room, leaving the body and stopping by the doorway to her office. "Got another one for you.  Who's that"  He had seen Dreg.
   
     She smiled, disarming his suspicions, "This is Darren, an old friend from the University.  He just stopped by to borrow a few books for a class he's teaching."
   
    The orderly nodded, and mumbled a hello, and turned to leave.  Lauren called after him. "Could you let maintenance know something’s wrong with the cooling unit for the second bank of crypts?  They're not staying cold.  Thank you"  The last was added when he nodded.
   
     "They probably won't show till tomorrow sometime, do you think they'll be ok till then?"  Lauren nodded in response to his question, and the orderly headed back upstairs.
   
    She looked back over to Dreg, "Something has you jumpy, you better calm down before you leave, or else you'll end up lost going the wrong direction from where you want to go."
                       

 

-----signature-----
           The good thing about working mostly in a morgue.  You can talk as much as you want, about whatever you want, and the bodies won't ever complain.    
                                                  

Offline [archive] archy_bold

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #34 on: March 29, 2005, 07:08:00 PM »
                Location: The Mental Institute, Outskirts
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Umm…â€? I could sense that this… ‘thing’ before me had the curse that many a Nosferatu said belonged to the children of Malkav, a curse that I didn’t have, I was sure of it, or was I? The Nosferatu back in London had not thought that we were as cursed as the others of our clan. “I’m not so sure why we’re here; I’m not even so sure how we got here.â€? The man spoke of time in the most peculiar way, his first few ideas on time were very well thought out and intelligent, but his reference to the donut was ridiculous, had this been the point where he had become incurably insane.
 
 Jake very rarely noticed that he referred to himself as we, unless someone told him, if he knew he did it so much, would he have noticed that he was as deranged as any other Malkavian. A mind in the back of Jake’s consciousness pondered how much Jake should know before knowing too much, he thought it best that Jake did not stay in contact with this man so much, lest he may reveal the secrets of his mind. Prodigy decided that he should be in full control for this conversation, but he would let Jake watch, except without the ability to hear the words, that way later he would only think that he had forgotten what was said, and only the necessary information should be given back to him.
 
 Prodigy was the mind that knew all; he had never sent himself to the front for it had never been necessary until now. Jake’s face began to change ever so subtly, his eyes became a slightly darker shade of blue, his cheekbones appeared to move upwards making his face appear narrower, his half smile that he wore at all times became perfectly straight. Most people would not notice this change; it was so slight, so subtle.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I heard your call, and I heeded it, I brought us here.â€? Prodigy spoke and was to the point; he did not see a reason for dwelling on pointless conversation as this Malkavian obviously loved to. “Why did you call me here?â€? Prodigy knew that the doctor could see he was hiding something, he could see into his very mind, the minds of all of those in Jake’s head. He probably even knew what he was trying to hide.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] dalver

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #35 on: March 30, 2005, 08:12:00 AM »
                She was right, he had to calm down... and figure out what the hell had happened and where the pine smell had come from.
 
 It had been a close call with the orderly there. Offended or not, it had been a stroke of luck, that he had been wearing the mask. She seemed eager to be getting to work.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I shall read through this and get back to you, dear doctor. Now if you don’t need me for anything else. I have visits to make and people to hauntâ€?
 
 And the first one to haunt is you dear doctor, a little obfuscate and thine bloodpacks shalt become mine. A small smile changed the otherwise dire expression of the old man. Dreg had never seen the old man smile so he had to improvise which made his mask shimmer around his face a bit, but it remained.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Call me anytime if you have any questionsâ€?.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh be sure I shall dear doctorâ€?. He turned to the door and with the folder in hand he called shadows and obscurity to him and entered the unseen presence just as he walked out the door. Even though the professor wouldn’t have been an odd presence in the morgue, he still didn’t want to leave traces or memories. He knew there were Disciplines that could substract memories from humans of obfuscated Kindred and he didn’t want to be placed at the morgue, with her, unless it was official business.
 
 He hugged the wall just beyond the door. Why did he trust her? Trust a Ventrue. That was the mother of all fuck-ups! How many times had he been warned of the Ventrue? And still he did it, he even left IT with her. Crazy...
 
 He eased open the door and snook in again, carefull not to break the veil of obscurity he had around him. She wasn’t in the room and not in her office, so he figured she was in the freezer with the corpse that had just been rolled in. He entered the main room and went for the fridge, opened it, pushed the cherryflavored Dr. Peppers aside and right there, as she said, were a handfull of juicy bloodbags. He left one and crammed the others down in his backpack. He arranged the Dr Pepper bottles just as they were and snook out again.
 
 The corridors twisted and he zoned out thinking of the pine scent from before. He stood by his bike when he woke up again. He immediatly dropped into a defensive stance, prepared for screaming doctors and baton-wielding police. But the building and the night beyond, was oh so quiet. It appeared he hadn’t been seen. This night was getting weirder and weirder. He picked up his bike. Now my trusted steed! To the wonderful smell of the Warrens!                        

 

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Offline [archive] Miyo34949332

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #36 on: March 30, 2005, 09:27:00 AM »
                Miyo climbed eagerly out of the car. She looked around noticing various kine and various kindred along with the ones who had been in the car with her. After listening to some kindred, who the very disgustingly ugly looking kindred named Halton had called Anarchs, and Dusty talk for a while, she noticed some animosity between Dusty and Khalid. Oh it was so exciting for just one moment. A fight about to break out! It would have been so very fun to watch a big doggy and a slippery snake have a nice brawl. She signed.
 
 "Oh well darling, there will be more fun soon." She said silently to herself.
 
 The sound of music pounded at the door of the building. She loved it. The lights in the window. With a little more intensity, more bodies and sweat and sex, it would almost resemble Miyo's mind. Looking at the humans nearby. Oh how she would just love to chain them and put them in cages. The very thought of it sent a shiver down her spine. There was no time for fantasies though. She felt like she was in school again. So much homework! And to find this O'Neil, Miyo secretly hoped he was a clown.
 
 Suddenly, the building started to sprout horns. The people around her turned into little children in white. They ran around her laughing and pointing. They held little sticks and poked her with it. Men in chains slithered at her feet like animals. The door to the building started to develop fangs. The building, turning to the very form of the devil himself, laughed at her, taunting her to go in and accept. The windows glared red. More bodies started to appear at her feet.
 
 "Oh Devil, my shining prince of pleasure, how I love thee."
 
 Miyo smiled. She threw her head back and laughed. But as soon as she did, the building returned to normal. The people around her were no more little children but who they had been before. The others stared at her with raised eyebrows.
 
 She looked around at her companions but something about the one named Khalid made her pause. She studied Khalid for just a split second though. When she looked into his eyes, a burst of voices entered her head.
 
 "His head is strong, his heart is strong, but like steel, he will not bend."
 
 "In this one there is only one. When two, the balance will be tipped."
 
 "The chimps count faster than men!"
 
 Before Khalid had a chance to say anything, Miyo said to him, "I'm not just a worthless, lonely little kitten. I can be soo much more." She smiled a smile that was something not good, but not bad, more just disturbing. She turned away just as quickly as the words had left her mouth and started for the door.
 
 "Oh so very slippery."
 
 "The fun never ends in Caesar’s palace."                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] dalver

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #37 on: March 30, 2005, 10:27:00 AM »
                Dreg opened the heavy bulkhead (how it had found its way down to the Warrens, he had no idea, but his clan was notoriously ingeniuos) which lead into the Primogens antechamber and Ms Diaknas office. He was covered in feces and urine from the romantic stroll through the beautiful sewers. Due to the strained relationship, between himself and his clan, they had conveniently forgot to show him the “shortcutsâ€? into the Warrens which left Dreg with the long road… through filth…
 
 He had let the guards trip him, as usual and made a nice show of falling into the slow-floating stream of filth. It had been his act, ever since he came to this city and he didn’t want to dissapoint. Not now when he was almost done with this dump of a town. If everything went smooth, he ought to be out of this town and back home in the old country in a month or two. He longed and made up an image of it in his head to better ignore the rest of his brood, staring, laughing, mocking, fearing and who knew what else they felt towards him… he was an outsider among the outsiders, a rather undesirable position for anyone.
 
 He entered the antechamber and picked up and dropped on the floor, some of the biggest feces that had stuck on his sweater.
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh aren’t you the sweet one? Bringing me presents and leaving them on my goddamn floor! Why don’t you step in it and smudge them all over, shitbrain?!â€? Ms Diakna brought up the huge cigar she was smoking and pulled hard on it then blew out the smoke. There was very little air down in the Warrens and Ms Diaknas “officeâ€? was in a haze of heavy smoke. Half her face was blooded bone, her skin rot and fell off every night, courtesy of the Nosferatu curse. Her “deskâ€? was the chassis of a car, cut down in size to fit her height and needs. She smashed a fist on it “What the fuck are you staring at and why the fuck are you still standing in a place where I can still se you?! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY OFFICE!â€? she smashed her hand at a buzzer which opened the other bulkhead leading into the Primogens chamber.
 
 Dreg shuffled his feet into Merius' chamber, with hunched shoulders. The bulkhead clamped shut behind him.                        

 

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Offline [archive] Lauren35297354

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #38 on: March 30, 2005, 04:13:00 PM »
                In the hour since Dreg had left, Lauren had been busy.  The girl with her throat almost torn out was labeled as possible animal attack, and placed in cold storage for autopsy after Lauren was finished with the boy.  
      She wheeled him into the autopsy room, closed the door behind her, and prepared to begin.  Ã¢â‚¬ËœBe creative’ was what Benedict had told her, and she had another idea brewing.  As interesting as a case of spontaneous combustion would be…it wasn’t really feasible in this case.   There were cases of it occurring, but so far all known cases were with the victims alive when it happened.  The more she thought about it, the worse the idea sounded, there were chemicals that would work, but only a few that wouldn’t leave a distinctive residue.  They were all locked upstairs in the lab, to risky with so many people working in there.
      Lauren left the body covered, crossing the floor to a small safe hidden under one of the small sinks.  She punched in the code to open the door, inside where several boxes, riffling through them till she found the one she wanted.  Perfect.
     Inside the box were evidence bags, containing trace evidence she had obtained the night before, courtesy of her dinner that night.  The man liked boys barely out of their teens, and the body on the gurney certainly fit the profile.  She knew for a fact he had already killed several of his victims, the police just didn’t have enough evidence to arrest him….until now.  Lauren grinned, he wouldn’t even be able to deny wither or not he’d ever seen the boy before, he was always to stoned or drunk to remember the night before, and had just been very lucky not to be in jail by now.
     Lauren carefully removed the bags she wanted and closed the box, replacing it in the safe.  She swung the door shut, making sure the door latched and replaced the false front of the sink front.  Returning to the body, she pulled up one of the wheeled trays next to her, and got to work preparing the body with the evidence.  And bagging the swabs and samples in fresh evidence bags.  Fibers from the body and clothes, which someone had some how forgotten to remove before sending him down, DNA samples from his mouth and under his nails.  She set the bags in the tray behind her marked trace, and returned the “leftoversâ€? back to the safe.   Carefully removing the clothes and personal effects from the body she bagged them, and placed them next to the others behind her.
     She had just begun the autopsy, when the chief of police showed up.  She wasn’t worried about him, he always believed what she told him.
   Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well, Lauren? What do you think, vampires?
    Lauren looked at him and shook her head.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Please don’t tell me you believe in them…there is no such thing.â€?  She gestured for him to come closer to the body, pointing with a gloved finger to the two small holes.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Looks to me like one of those pronged barbeque forks, bruising around the wounds, and right on the jugular.â€?  She pulled the victims mouth open. “I got blood off the teeth, and if you look at the top of his palate and back of the throat, there’s obvious bruising.  I also to samples from the back of the throat, and fibers from his hair and clothes.  Whoever did this was human.â€?
      The chief nodded and asked if she wanted him to take the bags up to trace.  Lauren thanked him and continued her autopsy after he left.  A little over  two and a half hours later, just as she had finished with her official report her phone rang with the chief on the other line.  The DNA had matched up to a known offender, and when told his DNA was on the body had told them that he probably had killed him then.
 Hanging up, she called Benedict getting one of the secretaries. “Tell Mr. Benedict that Miss McRae called, and that it’s taken care of.  He can read about it in the paper tomorrow.â€?
                       

 

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           The good thing about working mostly in a morgue.  You can talk as much as you want, about whatever you want, and the bodies won't ever complain.    
                                                  

Offline [archive] RomanK28488471

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #39 on: March 31, 2005, 12:22:00 PM »
                The group of four Cainites entered The Hole in the Wall, the large bar that was the center of Anarch activity in Ravenmill. Eyes were raised from several tables, and a few of their owners gave a greeting or a nod to Dusty as they passed them. The rest received only hateful looks, if any reaction at all. Word traveled fast, and no one in the Hole liked the Camarilla. Bugsy was at the other end of the bar, talking with a couple of burly-looking Kindred standing in front of a locked door and occasionally glancing back at the group. Finally, one of the men opened the door to the back room, and Bugsy gestured to the group to enter. Bugsy kept Dusty outside of the room until the others went in, though. "You'se sure you want to go in there, Dusty? Last chance to show your true colors." he whispered to him.
 
 Dusty nodded. "I have to, Bugsy. I don't have a choice." Bugsy only shook his head. "That's a cryin' shame, Dusty. Keep your cool in there. The new man's a bit upset, if you know what I mean."
 
 "It's Loco, isn't it?" asked Dusty. He remembered O'Neil's second, but not as a good leader. A good basher, perhaps, but not a good leader. The Anarchs were certainly headed downhill if Loco was in charge now.
 
 Bugsy only gestured him to get inside. It was apparent to Dusty that there weren't going to be any answers from him. Once he entered the dimly lit room, the door was closed, locked, and bolted behind him. Rough hands grabbed him, and forcefully pushed him to a chair in front of a pool-table. He could Lars to his left, and the Assamite, Khalid, in the chair to his right. What was far more apparent to everyone, though, were the four Brujah standing at the corners of the room, each with a pump-action shotgun slung over his shoulder. One smiled when Lars eyes met his, as if inviting him to try anything. In fact, it was exactly that. The smile faded when Miyo smiled back, though, to be replaced with the grim visage of someone who recognizes a Malkavian when he sees one, and knows enough about them to be very, very afraid, and just stupid enough to think that an intimidating glare would actually change anything.
 
 They weren't the only ones in the room, though. Another Anarch, a black man in clothes more befitting a member of some street gang, stared at the four companions. "It's a shame to see you wit' the wrong crowd, Dusty." said the man. Dusty never liked Loco, the Brujah sitting in front of them. He could never explain it to himself, but it was as if the Kindred radiated hatred to those around him. Loco had earn his own particular kind of respect among the Anarchs, but few liked him. The only ones to truly like him were like the four guards in this room, uncomplicated and extremely violent men.
 
 "So tell me, you damn Cammy bastards, why shouldn't we just splatter your nice leetle brains all over this room?" said Loco. It was quite apparent that he now included Dusty in that list.
 
 * * *
 
 Dr. Steiler looked at the new face staring at him from Jacob's body. Most would not notice such subtle details changing in the young vampire's features, but Steiler was not most people. It was so easy for all who met the man to underestimate him, to take him as nothing more than another bumbling . A grin slowly crept to his chapped lips. "So, it is for you I have been waiting then, to enter to my hearth and den? I think you take me for a fool, you who is but a broken tool. So what name should I use for thee, the lurker in the shadows of the mind, and the master of decree?"
 
 "You know my name as well as I do, now get to the point, old man." was Prodigy's reply.
 
 Steiler's smile grew wider. "Oh, I know it much better than you, my little wunderkind, much better than thee, ye who has eaten of the bittermost fruit of the life-tree. Why do you keep the knowledge of the Shattering to yourself, placing all the others of you on an ignorant shelf?"
 
 There was no reply from Progidy, and it was apparent to Steiler that there wasn't going to be an answer to this one. He knew the answer to this question, as he did to many others, but he always preferred to hear the answers with his own ears, and not only in the confines of his bald skull. It made things much simpler that way. For now, it was simpler to let this question die out, and turn to more important matters.
 
 "I like Ravenmill, you know, young one. I like it very much, in fact. Never have I had a place so free, at least for me, of the restraints that hound our modern society." The smile flowed away from Steiler's face, and was replaced with a serious expression that made face seem sharper. Anyone not previously familiar with him would have never thought him to be the madman that he in fact was. His next words still betrayed his situation "Have you ever built a house of cards, young one, building it with tedious care, only to watch it crumble down to the ground when someone took a card from the lowest part? One such foundation has been taken away from this house of cards, young one, and you I need to help me bring it back. A few more have already begun rocking gently, and some of those other cards at the bottom aren't the steadiest of cards to hold the rest aloft. I cannot try to keep our little cards together, young one, as such intervention from the likes of I will surely be noticed, which will only rock an already unsteady house all the more. All it takes is a small puff to make it tumble, Prodigy, a little stream of moving air particles to turn this little city into a battlefield. It is a shape this city remembers, and it is a shape it will not survive again." Steiler raised himself from the chair, and leaned on the table, his face merely inches from the young Malkavian sitting in front of him. "Why I called you? Simple. I need eyes where I have none, and hands where mine cannot reach. You are capable, and able, and in exchange there is much that I can you teach."
 
 * * *
 
 Dreg was inside his Primogen's chamber in the warrens. It has changed little since the last time he was here. While the walls here were made from an assortment of dirt and garbage, as it was the case in most parts of the warrens, someone had carefully selected sturdy sheets of metal to stabilize them here and there. To the left and to the right of the entrance two ornate bookcases stood, each book carefully placed and catalogued. There was even an old chandelier hanging from the roof, although it was apparent that this was scourged from some ruined or abandoned house, as it was dented and stained. It hung there, casting a dim light from the few candles placed in it, but giving Dreg more than enough light to see the ornate wooden desk, and the one sitting behind it.
 
 "So you finally arrived, Dreg? Pray, remain where you are standing. I'd prefer not to have the filth you're in on my more precious belongings." said Merius Lunshil, Primogen of the Nosferatu in Ravenmill. "Ah, a bit surprised, I see. One moment." he said, noting the raised eyebrow on Dreg's face. His clothes were of a kind more favored a century and a half ago, and were kept in excellent condition, but what probably appaled Dreg was that Merius appeared to be fully human at that time. Merius's features were now slowly flowing, melting, reforming…
 
 There was nothing human about him any more, except for the general shape. He now showed full well the trait that marked the Nosferatu. "Don't be too surprised, Dreg," said Merius, ", I like to keep in practice with my disguises, although this particular one was how I used to look when I was still of mortal blood. I occasionally like to use that form, if only because of nostalgia. Now, onwards to more important matters. It is time that you made yourself useful, Dreg, and do a simple task for me. It will not, I assure you, include any unnecessary socialization. Simply go to our good friend Dr. Steiler's abode and see if he is in good health. I have not had word of him for quite some time, and I have a small package for him waiting at a safe deposit box in our city's First Bank. He was supposed to pick it up by now, but I am informed that he has not. You will take that package, deliver it, and make sure our good friend of Malkav's blood is fine. I believe it is simple enough. Now, I would give you the key to the box," said the Primogen, wrinkling his nose at Dreg's smell, ", but I'd prefer you to have a bath first."
 
 * * *
 
 Alexander Stone stood in front of the city morgue, fingering the cross hanging from the slender silver chain on his neck. His orders were quite clear, and he had come ready. It had been some time since Satan's servants in this city had shown themselves. Some of his brethren had left, claiming that the city was cleansed, but Alex knew the truth. They were simply hiding, biding their time, and bolstering their ranks with those tempted to leave His eternal grace. They would not leave such a town, filled with the vice and sin of Man. No, they would remain here, where they were strong. Alex and those that agreed with his view had argued long and hard with those that wished to move to the larger cities. The Society of Leopold did not have much in human resources and, the others argued, they were wasting those precious resources here. They were wrong. Alex and the three with him were sent here, to the city morgue, to confirm the information they had received. A bloodless corpse could mean only one thing, but those higher in the Society wanted confirmation. They were not certain, they did not know, but Alex knew. He also knew that those with him, while good brothers in their Crusade, did not have the true belief in the Almighty Lord, and in His will and guidance. Alex knew what was expected of him, and he knew that his faith was his shield in all that could come to pass. The others, including those that were here, were less certain, less focused, but perhaps it would come with time, thought Alex.
 
 The Society had prepared some false papers for him, and Alex was now, at least as far as his papers claimed, a relative of the unfortunate youth who had been murdered by the vile beasts of the Devil. The others would have to wait for him outside, as getting fake papers for them would have been a problem. Best to use a single man as a relative, coming in to identify the body. They would be ready, of course, just in case things went wrong. The Beasts of the Devil would like more than anything to keep themselves a secret, and without tangible evidence of their renewed activity in the city, the Society of Leopold would simply continue to trickle out of the city. Alex could not allow that.
 
 Nodding to his brethren as he passed them, he entered the morgue.                        

 

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           Roman K
 
 "This isn't life in the fast lane, it's life in the oncoming traffic."
 (Terry Pratchett)    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Grendel8101

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #40 on: March 31, 2005, 02:18:00 PM »
                Looks like I've officially joined the ranks of the Cammarilla.  I could just puke.  Dusty thought.
 
 Loco.  Son of a bitch.  He should have realized this would happen.  He'd been hoping Bugsy would have the marbles to step up and take command.  Nothing to do about it now.
 
 Fluffy was raging deep in Dusty's belly.  He was going to let her out if this stack of cards fell.  He kept his eyes on Loco.  When it happened, it would happen quick.  They would start shooting, and Dusty would clear the table and hit Loco.  Dusty would die, but he would take Loco with him.  He was going to claw and chew through the Brujah until he tasted ash.  The shotguns were going to hurt like a bitch, but when his beast took over, Dusty didn't feel pain.  He hoped his natural resistance would keep him whole for the few minutes it would take.  Loco would hit hard, but Dusty would latch on with his claws and rip deep.
 
 But he would wait.  Reasoning with Loco was like reasoning with a bull, but he had to try.  He hoped the others had some vampire mojo they could use in this situation.
 
 Loco was still waiting for a response.  "Because, Loco, if the Cam wanted to start a fight, they would have sent ghouls in the daytime to torch the place.  We aren't here for a fight, we're here to stop one from happening."  You stupid frenzied sack of shit. he added mentally.
 
 Dusty wasn't good with words.  He hoped someone could ease the tension in the room.
 
                       

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Lauren35297354

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #41 on: March 31, 2005, 02:52:00 PM »
                Taking care of the actual body of the young man had been a fairly simple matter.  The wallet he carried contained his driver’s license with an address in the poorer part of town.  Looking up his name in the phone book, she found the number and dialed it.  The woman who answered turned out to be his mother, and knowing that they had very little money made this part even easier. The body had been identified earlier as Michael Langston, by a photograph taken in the morgue.  The police had felt it would be too traumatic for his mother to see his body in person.  Lauren offered to have her son’s body cremated herself, and the city would pay for it.  She also gave the grieving mother the name of a very nice minister to perform the funeral.  The boy’s mother agreed to the arrangement, relieved to not have to worry about the financial burden of a funeral.  A relative would pick up the remains later.   Humming to herself, Lauren pulled the body out of the cold storage, and wheeled it down the hall to the crematorium.  She chose a nice urn from the several kept in the room, they didn’t use it often, mostly only for those families, like the boy’s,  who couldn’t afford to do it themselves.
     
     Once the body had been reduced to ashes, she let the giant oven sit for several minutes, letting it cool, before carefully brushing the remains into the urn.  Wrapping the toe tag around one of the little arms on the urn, she heading back into her office, placing the container along with the bag of items to be returned to the family on her desk.   Lauren sat back in her chair rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand, it had been a long night.
 
     She had been sitting for only a few minutes when the there was a knock on her door.  Lauren got up reluctantly, opening her office door for the man standing behind it.  She smiled politely, “Hello, how can I help you?â€?
                       

 

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           The good thing about working mostly in a morgue.  You can talk as much as you want, about whatever you want, and the bodies won't ever complain.    
                                                  

Offline [archive] archy_bold

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #42 on: March 31, 2005, 03:20:00 PM »
                Location: The Mental Institute, Outskirts
 
 The man in front of Prodigy was reading him like a book, he knew everything about all of those within Jake’s head, but Prodigy would not give the doctor the pleasure of getting confirmation of what he thought to be true. Prodigy knew he was here to be used, he was going to be a tool of the elders, but having dodged it for several years now, it was inevitable that it would happen, that he would become a part of vampire society, a part of the Jyhad. After all, his monotonous afterlife was getting quite boring. The move to Ravenmill was a chance to start afresh, a chance for a new slate, to prove his worth in the world.
 
 Jake quietly observed the encounter, not truly knowing what was being said, but occasionally hearing snippets of information, enough for him not to be alarmed at not actually being fully conscious.
 
 Dr. Steiler spoke Prodigy’s name, he did not like others knowing the names of those in Jake’s head, knowing his human name was enough. Enough for the minds to have power over others, but enough to deceive others into thinking they had power over Jake.
 
 Many of the minds stirred, those that knew they were not alone in Jake’s head realised that Prodigy was becoming power-hungry, that this power would eventually be their undoing. They had to somehow stop it, but for now they would let him think he was in control. Those who were unaware of the others saw Prodigy’s thoughts as their own; they were growing uneasy with their apparent new thoughts.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“So, I may be interested.â€? Prodigy was beginning to feel in control, but knew that no-one could ever maintain control over this man. “I would need some specific details on what you want me to do, but more importantly what my reward would be, what is it that you could teach me?â€? The others were getting worried, Prodigy was talking completely in the first person, something that non-one could achieve completely, they knew that he was definitely gaining too much control. Lieutenant stepped in place.
 
 Lieutenant was not, as his name would suggest, a man who was always in control, he had barely ever been to the front of Jake, although he was still more experienced than Prodigy. He was a man who could take the heat, and would always volunteer to step up when things begun to get out of hand.
 
 The only thing Lieutenant saw, that Prodigy was doing right, was the exclusion of Jake from the conversation, he would keep it that way. Jake’s features began to change back, for Lieutenant was of a similar appearance to Jake, albeit without the constant smile, he was serious after all, but not so much so that he was unapproachable, his name had always been misleading. “I apologise for my…â€? Lieutenant paused for a moment. “…Colleague’s forwardness.â€?
 
 Dr. Steiler again noticed the change, but continued to delve into Jake’s fractured psyche. He stared into Lieutenant’s eyes. Dr. Steiler knew that Lieutenant was feeling uncomfortable and returned to his seat. “It’s not a problem, as long as you still agree to help me?â€? “Oh, of course, doctor, just let us know what needs to be done, we’ll get right to it.â€? Lieutenant was speaking in a very different way to Prodigy and all in the room could tell.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #43 on: March 31, 2005, 06:13:00 PM »
                A saying goes: „You could cut the tension with a knife“. At this particular moment in the Hole, a regular knife wouldn’t suffice. From the moment they’ve entered the bar Lars could feel the aggression and anticipation of violence clouding the air, the use of supernatural means to read the gathered Kindred’s auras wasn’t even necessary. And the man now in front of them practically glowed like a beacon of barely surpressed bloodlust. Dusty’s words hadn’t calmed the brute, but they stalled him for now. Something needed to be done, and done fast.
 
 It was written in the Hagakure that all decisions were to be taken in the space of seven breaths. Now, it could be argued those words held no meaning for a walking, talking, unbreathing corpse, but - as his sire and sensei had told him a century ago - they held wisdom nonetheless, whether the breaths were taken or simply imagined.
 
 An angry, and possibly final, response was on it’s way to the Kindred’s lips, but Lars spoke first.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å¾The Camarilla hasn’t displayed any ill will towards the Anarch community, and our presence here – in stead of the aforementioned torchbearers – is to soldify that. Were there any bad blood between us, we wouldn’t meet here, on your terms.“
 
 The words were hollow, a mere rephrasing of what Dusty said a few seconds ago, but it was calculated risk. Lars had to draw the attention of the large Anarch, and tread carefully while attempting to get a glimpse into his mind, so as not to let the Kindred notice anything. This was never a simple process, and the results varied, but then again the large man wasn’t a born thinker, and was fairly transparent to a cautious observer.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Somebody is trying to play us all, whether Camarilla or Anarch, for fools. We don’t know who would gain anything from playing both sides against the middle and starting an open war between the factions of the city, but most likely a fight here and now would play nicely into the plans of this persona“ – Lars continued, simultaneously planting a question in the Anarch’s mind, as if it had been his own: „An elder?“.
 
 The mere thought about a mysterious elder pulling at the strings of the city was quite absurd, but Lars knew it would gnaw at the Anarch’s paranoia. They so loathed the thought of being manipulated into doing their elders dirty work.
 
 While the man called „Loco“ looked at him, Lars scanned his mind further, only to confirm what he already noticed – the Kindred was a simple minded ruffian, equally likely to a violent outburst as to laugh it off. He needed to be pushed in the direction of the second option. Lars cast a brief look to the side, where Miyo was sitting. He knew for a fact that those of Malkav’s blood had the ability to affect others‘ emotions, he could only hope the girl knew how to work the gifts of her blood. There wasn’t enough time to clue her in on what he was trying to do, so he only sent a single thought to her: „Let him get the joke.“
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å¾And besides“ he lowered himself to a level of humour the Anarch would grasp „You’ve got a too nice tapestry in here to blow anything on it really.“
 
 If his heart was still beating, it would quicken it’s pace now. He played va banque, possibly overestimating her - and his own - ability by a longshot.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Miyo34949332

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Re: Raven's Call
« Reply #44 on: March 31, 2005, 07:16:00 PM »
                Miyo took a seat in the small dimly lit room.  She looked at one guard to the other tracing the shapes of their guns.  One had smiled at her.  She had smiled back.  Then the large black man Loco started talking to them.  Miyo didn't really pay attention to what the conversation was all about.  She was too busy listening to someone else.
 
 "A boar..  tusks too large for its own head."
 
 "Robin Hood has left and the fat bear cannot lead."
 
 Miyo shifted her focus back to the black man just in time to get a nice whiff of the awkward silence.  Miyo decided, someone has to break the tension.
 
 "So.. .." Miyo was just about to say something when a new voice entered her head. "Make him get the joke."
 
 "You've got a too nice tapestry in here to blow anything on it really."  Lars said.  
 
 Miyo sat dumbstruck for a second.  The Toreador had said a joke!  She waited a second for people to start laughing.  But no one did.  Everyone in here was too damn serious.  She smiled wide and started giggling.
 
 "Everyone should laugh." Miyo said.  She opened her mind filling the room with hysteria.  
 
 The guards and people around slowly started giggling, then the giggling started turning into laughter, then the laughter turned into uncontrollable bursts of sound.  The black man wasn't the hard one to get to laugh.  He had the brain the size of..  ..  a normal brain, but with the capacity of a peanut.  The person Miyo really wanted to get to laugh was..  Khalid.  He was too serious.  Everyone should laugh and become a big happy bunch of kindred.