[b:9e9d77ba82]Porter[/b:9e9d77ba82]

Porter grew increasingly morose. The trappings of mortal society lost on him many years previous. He watched with growing disinterest as Gabriel and Kathy’s fondlings became ever more insistent. Sighing he made his restlessness even more blatant.

“What’s wrong, Porter? Not embarrassing you are we?” Kathy smiled cheekily, her face flushed with excitement as Gabriel projected his intentions into her mind. The two youngsters turned their attentions to the irritable feral.

“Embarrassed? No. Bored? Yes.” Porter feigned sleepiness, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. If you’ll excuse me?” He stood, smiling at the two Kindred before heading towards the door.

“Wait! Porter?” Gabriel trotted after him as Kathy sipped from her glass.

“We’re staying at the Sheraton Heliopolis Hotel. Meet us there tomorrow evening if you could. Oh and Porter?”

Porter had nodded to the affirm at the Hotel’s mention. He merely grunted however as Gabriel spoke again.

“Thanks again for agreeing to come.”

Gabriel’s warmth irritated him. He had grown used to the younger Ventrue deriding him during his brief stint as Security Chief. He curled his lips in a surly sneer and nodded.

Gabriel watched as the Gangrel walked to the river’s edge. Disrobing, thankfully under cover of darkness Gabriel noted. He watched as the Gangrel’s body seemed to collapse on itself. Becoming smaller, losing the clumsy limbs of a man, as it adopted a form more fitted to flight.

Hopping onto the railing that guarded the Nile’s banks, the tiny Shrike screeched before lifting off. Soaring over the river as it elected to take in the sights.

Gabriel watched with amazed eyes.

He had seen Protean used countless times, but it still filled his undead heart with wonder.

For all his riches, his countless travels across the globe, reclining in the luxurious belly of a plane. He would never experience the simple, majesty and pleasure in flying under his own steam, on his own wings. He watched the bird disappear before returning to his waiting lover’s side.

[b:169ee2d44f]Gabriel[/b:169ee2d44f]

As Gabriel slid into the chair, a final liberated cry echoed through the city streets. It was ridiculous for him to have thought the Gangrel would stay planted for long. Still, the old dog was one of the few Kindred he still enjoyed socializing with.

"Gabriel...." the call brought his attention back to the situation at hand. Across the tiny circular table, Kathy sat on the edge of her seat. The tight blue dress she wore accentuated every muscle and curve, giving her an almost liquid appearance. "...what shall we do now?"

A smile pursed the young Ventrue's lips, and for a moment his brilliant smile flashed in the coffee shop's dim lighting. He leaned over the table towards Kathy, biting his lips as he did so. She smelled of fine perfume and lust, an intoxicating blend that sent Gabriel's head spinning.

"I can think of a few things personally." he whispered. It was Kathy's turn to bite her lip now, as she undoubtably envisioned the pair of them in the rows of passion. Shards of light danced from her eyes as she locked gaze with the Ventrue who had so many times proven her savior, and yet had so many times caused her heart ache.

At that very moment, he stood from the table and grasped her by the hand. Masquerade thrown to the wind, the pair were lucky to not be spotted as they dashed from the cafe at a blinding speed, enraptured in one another's presence and for at least once, truly appreciated the beauty the night had to offer.

The portion of town the small barista inhabited lay silent save for a pair of giddy vampires. Tiny shops and restaurants lined the streets, nearly packed one atop the other. For the most part they sat closed and silent, the few that were open contained a final few customers.

The aroma of exotic foods and teas teased their noses as they dashed through the roughly paved streets towards the edge of town. Gabriel clung tightly to Kathy as he ran, his open suit jacket whipping wildly behind him and for the most part obscurring the confused Toreador's view.

"Gabriel!" she cried, halfway between laughter and worry, "I should like to know where we're going!"

"You'll see Kay!" He laughed and merely ran on, allowing his blood to quicken his muscles. The awkward clack of high heels on pavement followed him at a rapid speed, and though he dare not look behind him he could picture Kathy struggling to keep from tumbling over.

Abrubtly, he moved to the far right side of the street, running alongside an old guardrail that seperated the mighty Nile from the city's population. The infamous river sparkled brilliantly, reflecting a dancing image of the moon so vivid and animated that it rivaled it's celestial sister in beauty.

His body jerked upward as he launched himself up and over the guardrail, bringing a shrieking Toreador with him. As he pulled her close to his body, the two landed to her surprise on pavement. Gently, Gabriel set her down and the two examined their surroundings.

They stood in the center of a small garden, apparently put in place by the city as a charming spot for tourists and joggers to stop off. It sat directly by the Nile, and the reflections of starlight illuminated the plot of land nicely. Even in the darkness, the flora was majestic to say the least. Different species were present and almost every color in the spectrum could be accounted for.

"Gabriel," Kathy smiled, "it's beautiful. How did you know it was here?"

"I saw it earlier today from the other side of the river." He motioned across the water, where a road was barely visible. The two sat for some time on the grass, content in one another's company. For one night Gabriel needn't fear the opinions and views of his peers. With what could well be his final days approaching, he soaked in Kathy's radiance, and as the two made love among the soft scent of lilacs, Gabriel forgot his troubles...

[b:dc5c255aaa]Morathi[/b:dc5c255aaa]

[b:dc5c255aaa]The Black Sea bed...[/b:dc5c255aaa]

Anoxia, the sterile heart of darkness. The anoxic bottom of the Black Sea, an environment that whilst anathema to life, was a boon for the survival of its remains. In an environment without wood-boring mollusks or indeed most means of decomposition, there was great potential. The possibility that every ship and flooded structure that had ever fallen victim to the Black Sea and its formation, from humankind’s earliest wanderings to the present, perhaps over 50,000 separate wrecks and countless settlements, lies preserved in poison. Waiting to be rediscovered in almost the same state they were lost....

Darkness, Then a faint glow of lights replaced the darkness as a hulking approximately humanoid shaped divesuit glided downwards through the water. It hovered briefly to slow its decent then cut its waterfans, dropping to the bottom, kicking up a cloud of loose material, hydrulics maintaining the figure's balance automatically as the figure surveyed the location it had touched down in...

"The Eagle has landed.... The dial reads three hundred and twenty metres...."

Morathi's voice crackled over the speaker in the main lab of the 'Akademik Ekaterina', contact supplied through the dual purpose lifeline and fiberoptic audio/video feed cable attached to the US-built HARDSUIT 2000 that she was learning to use.

Two of the massive suits had been brought on board before they had sailed, and only Dr Mooreland was actually officially qualified to use them. A tense Dr Mooreland let out a sigh of relief as his concerns about letting Lucilla Troy train to become his dive partner and make her first dive in such a advanced level suit were starting to lessen. She was clearly a fast learner and had listened to him in the pre-dive briefings. The depth of her first dive was well within the suit's operational limits. The greatest risk he had envisioned was that the singer would have been too wrapped up in the new experiences of the dive and forget to slow her decent, crashdiving too fast onto the sea bed, an impact that may well have fatally compromised the suit.

The hardsuit Morathi was using was an Atmospheric Diving Suit usually refered to as an ADS, an anthropomorphic, single-person articulated submersible that allowed the "pilot" to remain at one atmosphere of pressure regardless of depth. Consequently thanks to its structural design it could safely dive to depths of six hundred metres (approx 2000 feet) for many hours without any of the physiological hazards of depth, such as the "bends" or nitrogen narcosis, or the need to decompress upon return to the surface as the internal pressure of the suit never changed from that found at the surface, a significant factor in speeding the time needed to survey areas. A general rule of thumb for normal saturation diving was to allow a day of decompression for every 100 feet (or 30.5 meters) plus one day. Therefore a dive to only 300 metres (1000 feet) the type of dive depth Morathi was curently at, would require approximately 11 days of decompression using more conventional diving methods. The hardsuits could go double that depth if need be and bypass the whole decompression period. Admittedly Morathi being a vampire was immune to many of the dangers of diving but the illusion of human frailty needed to be preserved for Dr Mooreland and the Russian crew's benefit.

Although the suit was capable of walking on the sea bed, Morathi used the suit's waterfans to make quick hovers to her intended destinations to save time, as she suspected the area was void of anything of interest, the absence of any object she may have crashed or snagged upon being the very reason it had been selected for her first dive. It may have been an uneventful trip, but there would be plenty of time to become more practiced on later dives as they searched...

"Ok... I think I've got the basics worked out now Dr Mooreland.... You can winch me up now..."

The hardsuit was quite capable of returning to the surface under its own power but the lifeline cable provided a swifter and less complicated return to the surface, Morathi simply needed to use the suit's waterfans to hold position under the research ship and prevent the suit drifting in the water currents on the way up.

It was rather tranquil down in these dark depths compared to events in the surface world Morathi mused as she rose from the anoxic depths. The wraith within remained silent to its host. The 3000 year old chinese spirit had been interested in the experience of the dive, but felt the enclosing nature of the hardsuit that isolated its user from the environment about it was too much like its own limited escape from within its crystalline prison to experience the world of the living through its vampire host for comfort...

____________________________
(( For those curious in such things, details and pictures on the divesuit can be found here:-
http://www.onr.navy.mil/focus/blowballast/people/submersibles3.htm ))

[b:3682f25ad8]Julius[/b:3682f25ad8]

"So it begins." Said Julius quietly. He lifted the limp, ragdoll form of his lover and placed her gently back into bed, drawing the sheets to cover her nakedness. His first acts were to heal the wound in his shoulder, then to dust the room with magic, cleaning it to remove evidence of the short, but messy struggle. There came a knock at the door...

...Julius pulled on one of the dressing gowns provided by the hotel and answered the door. The duty manager for the hotel's night shift stood outside, "Excuse me sir." He began in heavily accented English, "You are disturbing the other guests." Julius cocked an eyebrow as the manager managed to look suitably embarrassed, "The noise, sir." Julius nodded and sighed matching his gaze into manager's eyes.

It was well for Julius that he had recently partaken of blood as potent as Eveshka's for even with the assistance of a thoroughly dominated manager, altering so many memories was taxing. Guests would remember an undisturbed night's sleep and staff remember nothing of any complaints. The night manager himself would report that nothing had happened all night, only that the couple in the suite had checked out, some family emergency. Getting on board his jet, without anyone becoming suspicious of the comatose form of Eveshka had taxed the last of his reserves.

Julius laid Eveshka onto the bed in the cramped but comfortable sleeping quarters in the rear half of the aircraft. With face that spoke of untold pain and desperate sadness he kissed her once, then whispered an apology into her ear as with a sharp move he filled her passionate heart with rough wood. His spell would last only until sunrise, a stake was the only way to be sure.

Julius returned to the leather upholstered luxury of the forward cabin and began to meditate. As he concentrated, clearing his mind, surrounding himself with abstract magical currents that ebbed and flowed in imitation of waves upon a seashore, his mind began to drift. As he entered the trance, his mind prepared to explore the primary question: What to do next?

[b:f387b7f796]Kathy[/b:f387b7f796]

Kathy lay next to Gabriel on the soft scented grass, her head rested on his chest as he held her in his arm.
The moon was starting to lower in the sky and the air had began to warm up as if heralding the beginning of a new day.

"Gabriel...have you ever wished you could take one moment and make it last forever, that nothing could invade on it and it would become eternal.....because I do....this very moment"

He smiled as he picked a crushed lilly our of her hair, their love making had been somewhat frantic and he dreaded to think what kathy would say if she could see the grass stains on her dress.

"I sometimes do kay...especially when Im with you"

Kathy sat up and straddled him, her legs wrapped around his back and trailed her fingers over his face.

"well Mr. Gabriel O' Brien, thats my grand plan you see, totally enchant you that you never look at another and fall utterly in love with me" she smiled softly as she ran her finger along his lips.

"Is that so Miss kathy Belvadere, well your grand plan seems to have worked doesn't it?"

he grinned as he looked at her, his eyes taking her whole being in....the way her hair fell in soft ringlets when it was loose, how her eyes revealed exactly how she was feeling, her very essence.

"Gabriel.....when do you have to go see the Inner council? is it soon? please dont just go and not tell me will you....promise me that you wont do that"

Gabriel bit his lip at her words, it wasn't her fight but his alone, but here she was willing to accompany him to see what fate held for him.

"I dont know kay....I really dont know, but I promise you I wont just disappear"

Kathy wiped a tear from his face and held him close, her arms wrapping around his back.

"Ive heard from Asram, the Assamite that works for the Inner Council, he thinks he knows where Sorenti is, Just say the word and I'll get the full details"

Gabriel nodded "shhh not not kay....just lets hold each other, it will soon be dawn and we will have to flee the sun.....but lets just have another few precious moments"

[b:4c78b2aab5]Julius[/b:4c78b2aab5]

A question with so many answers, so many courses takes time to think upon. Time to examine all the possibilities and settle upon the best, or mayhap least bad, choices. Thus by the time Julius emerged from his trance, night had grown into day and cycled once more into a tenebrous evening. In the dark surroundings of the Gulfstream cabin, the only light were the two pin prick starpoints of Julius' eyes. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and headed to the cockpit.

What Julius had planned would require secrecy. It would also require the use of some unusual magic. Raw power would not be sufficient this time. A large degree of skill and not a small amount of finesse would be just as important as the ability to channel magic. The place would also be of prime importance. Julius needed a place with a strong magical aura, an aura to which he was closely attuned. Very few such places existed and Julius had considered each on it's merits. The chantry in Chicago where he had served his apprenticeship, he could not use. His presence would attract too many questions. The [i:4c78b2aab5]Domus Magnus[/i:4c78b2aab5] in Vienna would work, but imagine trying to spirit Eveshka in and out of there with no questions asked.

Of all the places, the only one he could think of using was the old mansion in York. If he could hole up in there for a couple of days without being noticed, that would be perfect. Ironically he probably wouldn't be recognised. Despite it having been his seat of power the incident with Kemintiri had effectively removed a lot of people who knew him, either directly or by them drifting away. He was just glad he hadn't sold the old place.

He flew in to Leeds/Bradford airport in the small hours of the morning, chartering a helicopter to drop him off at the manor. Once again, getting the unconscious form of a staked Toreador past wondering eyes taxed his resources in vitae and in magic. The manor itself was much as he had left it. Still containing memories he had long since tried to leave behind. Beneath the dust sheets lay furniture from a happier time. He remembered a flourishing city, a well appointed chantry and a pretty, if scatterbrained, young Tremere who shared this house and his unlife. Then he remembered what he had come here to do and what had happened last time he had performed this ritual. He grimaced, then set himself to the task ahead.

Julius checked his watch. Just enough time before sunrise to complete the rite, then Eve could sleep it off during the day. He lit the fire, then laid Eve out on a couch before it and went to prepare the ritual room.

The stone walls of the ritual room were barely visible in the darkness, until Julius lit the first candle, it's flickering light playing moving shadows across the granite slabs. The first thing to do would be to bring the magical currents flowing back, as once they had. Julius opened his bag, the one that rarely left his side and drew forth his skull. He placed the skull on it's stand, next to the candle, tapping it once with the sigil he wore on a chain about his neck. "Online" Spake the skull, in it's death ridden leaden tones.

"Activate ritual room and defence system." Commanded Julius.

The other candles on the alchemical bench flickered into light. The books on the shelf and the pentagram on the floor now clearly visible. At each point on the pentagram a wisp of purple balefire flamed into life, adding a colder more mystical element to the warm light shed by the multitude of candles. Walking carefully around the summoning circle thus created, Julius opened the door to the sun room. A marble altar stood beneath a skylight. Upon it had rituals been performed and upon it had kindred died in screaming agony, turned to ash by a harsh and unrelenting sun.

This night it would be ritual. Julius stood before the altar and bowed to the four cardinal points, then held his hands toward the altar and whispering "Creo Vim". At each corner of the marble slab points of turquoise balefire now curled and writhed it's way towards the ceiling. This ritual required few, but specific components. Most were in bottles, conveniently situated on a shelf. The hammer and anvil were still at their place next to the altar. Nails he had, but a magically created coffin would have to suffice.

The ritual he would perform he had developed himself many years ago. It was inspired by a Sabbat ritual he had once witnessed. There had been an open grave for him, that night, had he wished to avail himself of the invitation. One choice he had never regretted, was the turning down of that particular offer.

To the dread business then. Julius returned to Eveshka, supine upon the couch. "[i:4c78b2aab5]Rego Mentem"[/i:4c78b2aab5] he whispered gently passing his hands over her head. Gently he pulled the stake from her breast, looking at it's bloodstained length for a moment, before casting it away in anger and disgust. It flew into the fire, which flared up as it consumed the morsel then dying back to it's former slow pace.

Eveshka blinked, once, twice then shook her head as though befuddled. "Heal your wound." Julius instructed. Eveshka gave no reply, save the closing of the hole in her chest. Julius nodded sadly, before continuing. "Now follow me." The pair headed for the ritual room, one purposeful, one mindless.

"Stand there." Julius pointed to a spot directly in front of the marble block, he himself went to stand opposite. He lit a brazier of charcoal and placed it carefully next to the anvil. "[i:4c78b2aab5]Creo Ignem[/i:4c78b2aab5]" he muttered, pointing at it. The flames flew high to the ceiling, before being sucked back down into the brazier, which now glowed with a white heat in it's centre.

Julius turned back to the altar, closing his eyes for a moment and preparing himself for the coming ordeal. This ritual was an exacting and tiring one, which would leave him practically defenceless against the barrage Eveshka could throw at him if things went bad. As they often did. This time there was no charge of a life boon, however. He did this for himself, as much as he did it for her.

Julius took a goblet and a dagger, tapping the goblet with it. A chime filled the room, a perfect, clear tone that faded so slowly that it was impossible to know the point where the sound finished and the silence resumed. He offered the dagger blade first to Eveshka, saying "Grip this firmly." Eve took the dagger and Julius pulled away, cutting deeply into her hand. As the blood began to flow, Julius took the goblet and caught the drops. "Heal yourself" He commanded again, taking the goblet and placing it on the altar.

Numerous ingredients did Julius now add to the goblet, stirring with the dagger as each one was added. The nails he then heated to white heat in the brazier, reforging their points upon the iron anvil, before quenching each in the potion he had mixed. As each nail entered the thick dark liquid, a greasy smoke rose toward the ceiling and by the time the last was prepared, the liquid bubbled sickly from their heat.

Julius gave the goblet to Eveshka. "Drink this. All of it." He commanded. Numbly Eve complied. "Now lay in the coffin." He continued. Like an automaton, Eveshka did as Julius instructed. Julius took the coffin lid and nailed it shut.

Julius liked to think he learned from previous mistakes and what was about to happen would not be pretty. He left the sun room, closing the door behind him. "Seal sun-room and raise shields." He instructed the skull. "Complying." It answered coldly. Julius nodded and released his hold upon Eveshka's mind. He walked back to the bench and placed a looking glass next to the skull. "Display sun-room" he instructed.

The glass was suddenly covered with mists, which cleared to reveal that the coffin was already rocking. Seconds later it flew apart, wooden shards flying about the sun room as something feral, bestial and barely recognizeable as Eveshka flew from her bondage, snarling and banging on the door.

The items upon the marble slab were the first to be destroyed. If it was metal, Eveshka bent it, if it was pottery, it was smashed upon the wall, whilst all the time she roared and howled, her beast unleashed and having it's way, utterly beyond her control. The only place she avoided was the brazier and it's white hot fires. What she wanted was out of this room, to hunt and slay and slake her undying thirst for blood, an animal of instinct only, the purest of frenzy. Finally when her frustration had brought her to destroy all that she could, she sat on her haunches in a corner of the room, growling and moaning her anger.

Julius checked his watch. Nearly sunrise. He couldn't afford to wait. "Open sun-room door" He ordered. The door swung open and Eve launched from the room, jumping at Julius, her fangs aimed at his jugular. Julius engaged his celerity and sidestepped her, catching her mid-air and working with her own speed, threw her against the wall. The top of her head impacted with a sickening thump. As she fell to the floor unconscious, Julius mused on the usefulness of having a hard head.

The following evening Eveshka awoke with a massive headache and a concerned Julius hovering over her like a fretful mother. She blinked twice, slowly. "I feel terrible." She said. "Lie still, love." Answered Julius. "Everything is going to be ok."

[b:ab8225cad5]Porter[/b:ab8225cad5]

The tiny avian predator sailed over the cityscape, it’s orb-like eyes scanning the various shapes and depths below in wide sweeping arcs. It uttered a shrill cry before drifting down on a staircase of thermals, landing with a graceful tap. It’s talon-less feet scraped over the ancient masonry. It watched a small beetle scramble over the edge of the roof before tumbling clumsily into empty air on tiny wings.

As it’s body shuddered and expanded, the rooftop sighed as the weight it bore increased. Porter crouched on the edge of the roof, looking out across the city, his eyes shimmering in the low light. He closed his eyes and answered the roof’s sigh with one of his own, sitting bird-like as the night moved forward.

He didn’t realise the significance of the building he rested on, silently mouthing out a few words that were of some importance to him.

[i:ab8225cad5]“Lady Eveshka...Eve...old woman...”[/i:ab8225cad5]

He ran a weathered finger to his neck, tracing the long forgotten line of a pendant given away years previous. The building sat empty like a corpse. Porter’s mind drifted as assuredly as he had on tiny wings.

The Hanging Church had stood for centuries. Built originally in the Basilican style in the 3rd Century, before it’s more recent renovation in the 11th Century. Becoming the seat of the Coptic Patriarchate. It resembled the architecture of the Babylonian Gardens, hence the name. The silent predator that now roosted and remembered upon it had no knowledge of it’s origins. The Gangrel had little interest in the history of buildings. They were a means to find shelter or rest, not objects of significance.

[i:ab8225cad5]Porter had entered the Salon De La Rose dressed as always in his tattered, blue cavalry dustcoat. He stalked past the various clubbers, ignoring the disapproving glances of some of the younger Kindred drawn there by the club owner’s “aura”. He shrugged off the foolish aggression the young, aristocratic Toreador herd, threw his way and made his way to Eve’s side.

She stood in nature’s full regalia. Barely clothed, her porcelain-like skin shone in the club’s lighting. She resembled Luna herself he mused, coughing as he approached to attract her attention. As she turned to face him, he saw her eyes were raw, burning as tears threatened to flood saline-starved ducts with blood.

“Eve?” His voice rasped, leather on glass as he spoke. The expression and softness of his tone made his affection for the white statue obvious.

“Leave me, Porter! I am in no mood for your hillside proverbs.”

Porter grumbled at the slight, but chose to continue.

“I can see the mood you’re in. But it won’t drive me away. Not tonight.”

“Don’t presume to know me Gangrel! I’m tired of the games your sex play. You think me so easy that you can seduce me also?”

He shook his head sadly.

“That is how you see me? As another obstacle, another threat? I thought you knew me better, old woman.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head as her tears flooded the tiny, alabaster dams in her eyes. Crimson, paint slashes standing out in stark contrast on her skin.

“Aren’t you? You all see me as something to be conquered. A weak woman in need of a man’s firm hand. In bed and in society.”

“You couldn’t be further from the truth, Eve.” [/i:ab8225cad5]

He murmured on the rooftop as the conversation grew darker, then lighter. The memory of a crude gift being the lightest.

[i:ab8225cad5]“It was my mother’s. I’d like you to have it. And if you ever need of me, just whisper upon it and I’ll hear you.” He smiled, running a leathery, battle weathered hand gently over her cheek, stemming the flow of her tears.

Eve placed the crude leather band around her neck, the little inscribed stone resting inches above her tumescent breasts. The sight should have aroused a man almost to death. But Porter merely smiled, kissing her hand and left.[/i:ab8225cad5]

He dropped cat-like onto the balcony outside the hotel suite Gabriel and Kathy slept in. Finding the glass doors open, he crept inside. He saw the two Kindred wrapped around each other, the rising dawn made him close the drapes as he stepped past their sleeping bodies. Curling up on a sofa he yawned before drifting into Lethe’s balmy embrace. His voice whispering across the room as consciousness left him.

[i:ab8225cad5]“Eve...Eveshka...old woman...”[/i:ab8225cad5]

[b:c30c19f055]Eveshka[/b:c30c19f055]

[i:c30c19f055][b:c30c19f055]DATE LINE: SEPTEMBER 22, 2002 CNN HEADLINE NEWS: SHOWDOWN IN THE GULF[/b:c30c19f055]

At 6:20 pm a massive explosion in south central Baghdad killed thousands of Iraqi civilians and hundreds of coalition Soldiers. Independent sources report that a chemical agent was used in the attack. Further reports indicate an almondy scent in the air around the edges of the effected area. The Pentagon has admitted to a "Surprise attack using violent force," but has declined to comment upon the use of a weapon of mass destruction. Hussein is still at large, whereabouts unknown.[/i:c30c19f055]

[b:d6cc2e7e67]Michelle[/b:d6cc2e7e67]

Michelle awoke in a torrent of near scalding water. Where was she? She was naked, in a bathtub, water pouring down upon her from the showerhead. At her feet, hot water swirled with the blood she had been washing off of her body.

She remembered now. She had been cleaning herself following her most recent feeding. Where was she? Oh yes, the house of the kindly middle aged gentleman who was so infatuated with her. He was around somewhere, she could sense it.

What had happened? She knew she had collapsed while showering but why?

She remembered – a bond, a thrall. Someone had broken the blood tie she had with one of her servants – or had they? She could sense….something. The feelings were familiar. The bond had been assaulted by a sorcerous ceremony, one that she herself had been through before.

When? Recently. Only a few years ago, just before she had gone back to sleep. Why? Oh yes….the alchemist Goratrix had tricked her. Another alchemist, that Darrant person, had broken the fledgling bond Goratrix had forged.

Now it seemed someone had used the same ceremony to break Michelle’s bond with one of her thralls. Who was the thrall? She could sense an essence at the other end of that bond, a female presence, and a burning passion. Eve? Eveshka? There was that name again, and a picture in her minds’ eye of a bird wreathed in flame.

Was this Eveshka Michelle’s thrall? It seemed unlikely.

A door in her mind slowly swung open, a black door, a door which should never have existed. A door created by the fear and misunderstanding of others, a self-fulfilling prophecy that would return to haunt those that inadvertently had created it. Behind that black door was darkness, deception, murder and purest evil. It was the door to Kementiri, the anathema, Kemintiri the arch-criminal, Kemintiri the fiend.

Eveshka had been her minion – but not her as Michelle - Eveshka had been bonded to Kementiri in her aspect as the anathema of the Camarilla: the murderer of the Justicar Michaelis, the lover and arch enemy of Lucinde and perhaps the most wanted criminal in all of the vampiric world.

Beyond the black door her mind’s eye could see a purpose, a wicked calling. It was what everyone thought she was, so was it not true? Was this not the creature she was supposed to be? Was she not a murderer? A deceiver? A villain of the highest order? Did she not wish to bring about the end of the world for no other reason than to see others suffer while ending her own misery? Was she not evil incarnate?

Everyone said so. It must be true.

In her mind, Kemintiri yielded to the wicked call and stepped through that portal to madness. She would retain her surface identity as Michelle St. Claire, for that was what the evil Kemintiri had been doing all along. But now she knew. She knew her purpose and that purpose was the destruction of everything.

As she rose from the shower she also knew what her next step would be – she would go see who dared challenge her dominion over one of her servants. Stepping from the shower, she passed the bathroom mirror but failed to notice that her eyes had changed from deep blue to black – the black of the abyss, of a soulless evil, of Kemintiri the destroyer….

[b:e9234397ed]Gabriel[/b:e9234397ed]

[i:e9234397ed]"Lucinde!"[/i:e9234397ed] Gabriel awoke with a start, the now familiar sensation of blood soaked sheets clinging to his body hitting him almost immediately. As he peeled the sticky fabric from his body and emerged from the covers, he could feel the chain and crucifix that hung around his neck draw a snake-like design across his wet, reddened chest.

The nightmares were becoming inreasingly vivid, and everynight Gabriel was forced to relive his own death at the Justicars hands. He tiptoed across the room, being silent to avoid waking Tyler and Kathy. The evening had just set in, and the vampiric powers that beckoned sleep would be waning by now.

[i:e9234397ed]"Evening Porter...[/i:e9234397ed]" Gabriel whispered as he made his way past the couch towards the bathroom. The huddled figure, a mass of hair and muscles, merely grunted. His canine hearing could be a blessing and curse, as Gabriel's whisper had effectively reanimated the sleeping Gangrel.

As the final vestiges of the vision began to seep from his concious to his subconcious, Gabriel concerned himself with more immediate matters. Noshad had received the pictures of the sword they had discovered at the digsite. The curved sabre's markings were not familiar to Noshad, they apparently had no noticeable resemblance to farsi. His meager resources exhausted, he had contacted Julius.

The playboy Tremere had been quick and efficient in a plan of action, immediately having the latest security programs transfered to Gabriel's phone to secure the line. After being informed of the sword's existance, Darrant had insisted that Gabriel and Kathy bring it to him in York, even offering to provide dependable transportation and accomodations for the two of them.

Tyler would stay behind to keep an eye out for Lucinde. Should any notice of her arrival be delivered, Gabriel would have to rush back as quick as possible. It was a VERY dangerous risk to take, considering that the Justicar could come at anytime, and the letter commanded him to stay put until further notice. But, as the recent nights had effectively proven, a young Kindred's desires cannot be tamed...not even by their owner.

As the steam from the shower encompassed Gabriel's lithe frame, he could feel the sticky vitae cascade over his sinewy form. When he finally emerged back into the main room, Tyler and Kathy sat at the main table, wiping the sleep from their eyes.

Tyler was his typical self, shirtless and well built. He wore a thick set of sweat pants with obviously nothing underneath, he certainly hadn't acquired Gabriel's fashion sense with his blood. A five o'clock shadow had sprouted over the duration of the night, giving him a James Dean quality. His hair jutted out in peculiar angles, a result of the apparent tossing and turning he did all night.

Kathy however, remained immaculate as ever. Her rich brunette hair was drawn up into an elegant French plait, and the soft terry cloth robe she wore revealed her milky white skin. Smiling softly, she glanced up at Gabriel, who stood wrapped in a towel, hair plastered to his head and shoulders. Although she was seemingly spotless from the bloody sleeping arrangements, Gabriel noted a small speck of red on the inside of one of her wrists.

[i:e9234397ed]"Gabriel,"[/i:e9234397ed] Tyler's voice sounded raspy and worn, [i:e9234397ed]"these sheets are getting expensive."[/i:e9234397ed] Gabriel glanced over at the now balled up, crimson sheets and shrugged, a slight embarrassment coming over him. He made his way over to the wardrobe and began to select the night's outfit. Darrant had sent him flight times and there was little time to waste.

[i:e9234397ed]"What was it about Gabriel?"[/i:e9234397ed] Kathy had a note of concern in her voice, [i:e9234397ed]"Was it about Luc..."[/i:e9234397ed]


[i:e9234397ed]"Mr. Darrant has invited us to join him in York,"[/i:e9234397ed] Gabriel cut her off, trying to sound pleasant. [i:e9234397ed]"we should probably hurry if we don't want to miss the plane."[/i:e9234397ed]

[i:e9234397ed]"Am I accompanying you Gabriel?"[/i:e9234397ed] Tyler asked tentatively. He was feeling stifled in the hotel room, undoubtably he wanted a change of scenery.

[i:e9234397ed]"No Tyler, I've a much more important task for you. I need you to stay here and keep an eye out from any word from Lucinde. Should ANYTHING appear contact me immediately."[/i:e9234397ed] Tyler nodded somewhat dejectedly.

[i:e9234397ed]"And what about me?"[/i:e9234397ed] Porter emerged from the porch, bathed in moonlight. Resembling a Greek God, the perfectly structured Gangrel moved into the room, his naked form powerful and intimidating.

[i:e9234397ed]"Well, Mr. Darrant specifically asked for only the two of us...but I can't see the harm in having you nearby Porter."[/i:e9234397ed] Gabriel said as he slid on his suit slacks. [i:e9234397ed]"But you're going to need a change of attire. If we're to present ourselves in front of Julius in his own territory, we've all got to look presentable." [/i:e9234397ed]

[i:e9234397ed]"By Caine's Blood, not another makeover!"[/i:e9234397ed] The Gangrel groaned, having memories of their trip to Las Angeles and the decidedly feminine stylist Gabriel had provided him. The remnants of the Armani Suit Gabriel had purchased him still clung to his manhood in the form of a loincloth, Porter effectively destroying the rest of it long ago.

[i:e9234397ed]"A makeover..."[/i:e9234397ed] Kay chimed, her voice excited at the prospect.

[b:cd331e2765]Kathy[/b:cd331e2765]

"Do I have to go through with this ....again?" porter growled as kathy stood up her face beaming.

"Im sorry porter old man but needs must" Gabriel said trying to keep amusement from his voice.

"you may think youve distracted me...but I will get out of you what you were dreaming about....so dont think I will forget.....I showered very early this morning, I had to" kathy whispered into Gabriels ear as she pecked him on his cheek as she passed him, turning her attention to Porter.

Gabriel watched her and sighed silently.

"now porter, what to do with you ?"

Kathy circled him like a hunter seeking its prey, her eyes scanning him closely.

"the hair is passable....if its washed well and scraped back like so into a ponytail" kathy pulled his hair back tightly in her hand and gabriel winced as he thought of what porter could do to her.

porter let out a growl.

"clothes....I think I can guess your size so I'll have Tyler.....when he gets decently dressed" raising her eyebrows at tyler.

"go get a suit, but first .....shower....now"

[b:1831df86cf]Eveshka[/b:1831df86cf]

Eveshka sat dressed only in a plain cotton robe. She looked about the room. This was the parlor in which she had spent countless hours with Julius, Michelle, Annabelle, and others. She had also spent countless hours alone with Tromador when he lived here. She wondered what he was up to. She wondered what SHE was up to. She felt Kemintiri awaken, and instantly after she felt the strong desires of lust and devotion well up within her. Then all went black. Now she was here... in York. What short circles she moved in. She got up and wandered over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a 1938 Muscadet.

She knew that Julius had supposedly exorcised the demon out of her, yet she still felt Kemintiri, she was fuzzy though. She felt something, but couldn't figure out what. She wondered if the "wedding" ceremony in Warwick with the Wiccan Priest had fused them together somehow. Fused them in a way that Tremere magic could not separate. She still felt Keminitiri inside of her, but it was not an obsession now. The emotions that came from her were confusion, fear, and a depth of anger Eveshka had never felt before.

She looked at the clock. It was only 10:45 pm. Julius was in the lab doing something. Eveshka walked upstairs into the room that Julius had stashed all of her belongings.... at one time it belonged to a scatter brained tremere apprentice with whom Julius was toying. She pulled her hair back into a tight bun, dressed in her skin tight black spandex jumper, put on her Night Vision Goggles, and then strapped on her Dread Rapier and Main Gauche. Over the whole thing she fastened her Cloak of Shadows.

She slinked out of the mansion and made her way to her old Mansion that she shared with Prince Michelle St. Clair. Eveshka entered the buildign from the secret door that only she and Michelle knew about. The place was much as she had left it over three years before. Paintings and artefacts still hung on their appointed places. Eve headed upstairs to the bedroom they had shared. The bed was still there of course, as was the jacuzzi, which had been used recently. Her eyes darted about the place but saw nothing amiss. Dried blood ringed the empty jacuzzi. Whose she had no idea. Maybe Michelle had been here, maybe someone else. She didn't feel anything nearby. She looked around with Heightened Senses activated and saw nothing unsual.

Thirty minutes later she was running along at max speed to the empty church that used to be Club Purgatory. She hoped maybe there she could find some answers.

[b:77dda6dea6]Kathy[/b:77dda6dea6]

Porter looked warily to the bathroom where kathys slim fingers pointed, a stern look on her face.
"Gabriel...."
Gabriel shook his head, knowing that kathy would win" I dont think there's any point fighting her porter, just go with the flow as they say"

Porter stepped reluctantly to the bathroom his muscles rippling as he did.

"you act as if I smell kathy, but to appease you I will do as you wish"

he said as he shut the bathroom door.

Kathy smiled widely and walked to the bathroom door and nodded pleased as she heard the shower spurting to life, but then frowned.

"he's cheating Gabriel, the showers on but the flow of water is unbroken, he must think Im stupid"

"kay Im not getting involved with this" he grinned as he turned to tyler and sat down to discuss the flight arrangements and where exactly they would be in york.

Kathy opened the door slowly and frowned as she saw porter sat on the floor, the steam from the shower filling the room.

"porter! that is no way to get showered!"

Porter growled and he looked animalistic at kathy.

"In now!!" kathy demanded her arms crossed over her breasts.

kathy stood and passed him the shower gel, then the shampoo and conditioner and grumbling at him.

"we only have so much time you know porter, this is really not good enough and so tedious to watch" she muttered , as porter stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel she held.

"you saitisfied now kathy, do I smell like a ventrue to you ? will I be able to travel in your company?"

[b:6eb87622d8]Eveshka[/b:6eb87622d8]

[i:6eb87622d8]Several hours after Eveshka visited her mansion[/i:6eb87622d8]

Purgatory used to be the most happening club of its kind in Europe. Patrons from Scandanavia, the Continent as far away as Eastern Europe, and down into North Africa came to this hedonistic pleasure palace. It had the most oppulent decor, the best music, the sexiest clientelle, the best and priciest drinks, any manner of chemical substances, the brightest lights, and now... it was empty. Eve walked into the center of the old cathedral and surveyed the scene. Where the young and beautiful used to dance, press their bodies together, and destroy their minds now only rats and the occasional vagabond came. She could remember the nights here.

She walked around to the stairs that led to the VIP section. The erotic paintings still graced the walls. She DID still own this place. She heard the noise of a refrigeration unit turning on down in the bar. Hmm, apparently she still paid for power as well. Should she reopen the place and rebuild her empire? It wouldn't take much. The files were still there. She knew that if she built it... they would come. And then they would cum, and cum, and cum. Just like the old days. Sex offerings at her Altar of Flesh and Lust. The smile drifted away from her face at that thought.

She went back downstairs and went down the transept and into the the concert hall. So much money she had made here. So much she had wasted. Was SHE the Biblical Harlot of Babylon? The thought chilled her to her very core. She stood on the stage for a few moments, looking out where throngs of Europe's youth thrashed about in a sea of pleasure, anger, and adolescent hormones. She punched in the combination at the door and passed into her private office. It was completely untouched. A bit dusty to be sure, but untouched. All of the Egyptian regalia still stood among the fountains and pools. And there she was. The portrait of Michelle St. Claire hanging behind her Louis XV desk. Her heart nearly beat as she gazed at the French beauty. The beauty was a mere facade for the perfection that was the TRUE image of Keminitiri. What would she do if she came face to face with her here? Would she run from her? Would she run TO her? There was a connection still. That much was certain. A connection that transcended mere regnancy. It was similar to what she had had with Rhiannon. Rhiannon, who had used her to catapult herself into power. Rhiannon, who had used her to gain a strangle hold on her minions. Rhiannon, who had blamed all that went wrong with Cascadia on her just before the Garou attack.

Was that what Kemintiri was doing as well? Was she just a more powerful and radiant version of Rhiannon? Was this the constant pattern of her existence? To be used as a tool for those more savy than she?
God knows that were the Firebird not on a leash, she would whirl out of control and destroy everything she touched.

So who held her leash now? Was she without one for the first time in her existence? Was it held by Renee? Julius? Madame Guil? Or in some twisted way could it even be Lucinde? Or was she still in bondage to Rhiannon, or someone like her? That was an interesting question she thought as she pressed the secret button and entered her private room. What would she do if Rhiannon ever entered into her existence again? Would she slice her pretty red head off with one sweep of her rapier? It wouldn't be hard. For all Rhiannon's pomp and circumstance, she was not very powerful. Measha could probably destroy her given the right circumstances. Yet, she had an Iron Will to glorify herself. Was it that Iron Will that so beguiled Eveshka? Inner strength as an artform? Now there was a thought. But what of Kemintiri. She knew she was awakened. Somehow. She hadn't intended to diablerize her. It just sort of happened. She just wanted to feed a little bit. But then she kept going.... and going... Kemintiri's vitae burned as she consumed it. It made her feel alive. High. It was almost as if Kemintiri herself was egging her on. As if Kemintiri KNEW that Eveshka could not completely diablerize her but wanted her to have the appearance of a diablerist. So that when Kemintiri awoke, she would be.... free? Free. FREE!!! That was it wasn't it. She knew that she would be free from the hounds of the Cammarilla.

So in the end, even in slumber, even in death, from across that astral void that she sent Kemintiri when she drank her dry, she was still being manipulated. But it hadn't quite worked. The bond was still there when Kemintiri awoke. The bond of mutual Regnancy was broken by Julius, yet there was still something there. What would she do if faced with this new and infinately more powerful Rhiannon? Run from her? Run to her? Or try to destroy her.... That thought drifted through her mind like a thunderclap. She doubted it. She couldn't destroy Kemintiri even if she wanted to. She was too powerful. Eveshka, possessing nearly devine powers to modern fly by night vampiric standards, was yet a babe compared to Kemintiri.

She touched her hands to the handle of her rapier slung across her back and felt completely inadequate. Cold steel, even MAGIC steel, was no match for the power of darkness. But was Kemintiri really dark? She was once ONE with Kemintiri. Although she felt the insanity in her, it almost felt like insanity derived from a morbidly over developed identity crisis. She did not know what to do about it. She wished she could speak to Tromador. He was the only one with whom she ever REALLY communicated. Well there was also Euryon, and on occasion Porter when he was around. But God knew where those two were, if anywhere at all.

She decided what to do about Club Purgatory at least. She just had to contact the right people so that it could be done quietly. With that she slipped back out into the Yorkshire night and wandered up towards Clifford's Tower. She would like to stay there till nearly the break of dawn. She liked doing that. The night was clear and would most likely present a beautiful sunrise. Too bad she couldn't see that. She would have to be satisfied with the purples and pinks of the early early dawn.
With that she was satisfied.

[b:7c60d97bd4]Euryon[/b:7c60d97bd4]

Mere hours had passed since Irish blood had been spilt and supped; and it pulsed fervntly through the Vampire as he descended down onto one his past abodes. Absently he watched the scurrying of mortals below him, some were giving up to the pressures of the night and seeking sleep, others were rising to begin their days of toil; and probably some were being used as food for something, somewhere.

Euryon circled gently down; not really having much reason to come here, other than that he was pretty much in the area, and familiarty beckons even the wanderer. It was not his home, but for a while, it had been a safe place of respite. His time for solitude had passed, now it was time to meet others againg; Gangrel or otherwise... The old often desired company of others - the young to feel important and wise, and the old to feel safe in the knowledge that there were others who had seen more moons than was truly necessary.

Euryon had never particularly bothered mastering his mental powers; there had been a time one of the Toreador had tried to teach him - which one had it been? He couldn't remember... There had been a lot of them in the last few centuries. Some were berable - others had not been. Even so, most Cainites possessed at least a peripharal strength of perception. It was now that it pushed into fruition; his vampiric eye, uncommonly powerful, even for a powerful Gangrel, had locked onto something - something illuminated by a curious aura.

It was a particular shade that echoed familiarity in him. An insane swirl of colours hinting at its mood - but that was irrelevant to his deduction; there was always a unique presence to any Vampire; and the one he watched was especially so. Curious.

He allowed his descent to take him to a vantage point close by the bearer of this visage, and perched himself on top of a large stone tower close by. He watched as the creature - a woman - stood, gazing into the night. His slight reception of her aura now suggested she was deep in thought; almost lost in it, in fact.

He reformed himself to his natural physique, and sat on the crenalation, his legs hanging over the edge - in some perverted way, his stance resembled a boy without cares of fear, sitting on such a high vantage without a care in the world. In perhaps a way, it was not an unfair description; he had recently shed the asphyxiating beast that had held him almost dormant for his unlife; and felt a peculiar sense of rejuvanation.

He watched as the woman continued her epilogue of thoughts, and wrestled with his mind to remember her... She was certainly from his recent history... This was York... He felt no need to kill her, so she was not a known enemy...

Slowly, even more memories swam back...

Then he had it; [i:7c60d97bd4]Eveshka[/i:7c60d97bd4]

A grin crept onto his face. Yes, this was a safe memory... And it would be nothing more than chance that she had been here at the same time as he. By the looks of her, possibly she was experiencing something similar to he.

He knew to continue the watch would be contemptuous now he recalled her as friend. His experience had taught him that it was wise to hail or flee, but never watch something you do not hunt. A hail would suffice here. He pushed himself from the edge of the turret, and fell the distance to the ground, landing easily on his bastardized feet.

It was nightime, and it was empty here apart from the Lady; yet caution was an admirable quality in the aged. Fresh with blood-power, he reverted his form to what he had been before death had swallowed him. Instead of the hunched, gnarled monster; now, standing some fifty yards behind Eveshka, stood a not grotesquely muscular, scarred young man. The large tribal tattoo now visible covering half his torso; the rest adorned in wounds of battles barely survived. He balled his fists, and arched his back; the sensation of freedom was incredible... Something he had never noticed before in his regressions back to human form... A state he was quickly becoming to fondly remember.

He strolled without stealth towards Eveshka; his attempt at hiding his undead nature was somewhat achieved; but he was still a bizzare site. Uncommonly built was one thing, but the fact that he was stark naked suggested other deviances oblivious to his vitality problem. Fortune was with him, whether he believed in such a nuance or not, as yet, he - they - were still unobserved.

He felt her sense him as he closed, and expected no reaction - and was greeted by such. His lack of stealth would tell her he was either no enemy, a very poor one, or one overly confident; any of which, he recalled, she would be confident against. He walked beside her, and looked out to the clear night...

[i:7c60d97bd4]"No' bad view from 'ere is it?"[/i:7c60d97bd4]