"AAAHHH HAHAHAHA! Look who it is!!! WILLARD!!" the punk screamed, a huge dirty smile across his face. He wrapped his arms around Willard's lanky frame and squeezed. Willard smiled slightly as he was lifted off the ground and swung back and forth through the air.

"Yeah, get off me man." he said neutrally. When Raz finally set him down Willard took a moment to fix his thinning hair. Well actually it wasn't thinning anymore, it had been thinning forty years earlier however. Raz smiled a fanged smile at him.

"So," he said, bringing his voice down to a whisper. "what'd you find out?" With the last syllable Raz raised his eyebrow and added a sly smile. Willard glanced around.

The Rack was full tonight, the misfits of Cascadian society packing into the strip clubs and bars in overwhelming numbers. ((P.S. the Rack is Kindred slang for the Prime feeding grounds in a city, just in case you didn't know)) Everywhere he looked, Willard could smell the substances mixed with blood, sweet blood.

They had been meeting her rather frequently, him and his crew of Kindred misfits. They were neonates, no older than 40 or 50 years of age. In a large city like Cascadia that meant you didn't amount to squat. The Camarilla was nightly seeming less like a protective hand and more like a slap in his undead face.

He looked back to Raz, who stood sheepishly waiting for an answer. He had met Raz about 15 years previous, in a local bar. The two newly embraced Kindred had attempted to feed on each other. It was a good thing they hadn't, wouldn't been a one way ticket to a Blood Hunt.

Raz was a thicker man than Willard by far, his bulky arms protruding from his tattered leather jacket. He wore the same shaggy hairstyle that he had worn when he was embraced in the 70's.

"Well?" he asked again, his smile fading. Willard glanced around at the busy street with it's neon signs and water filled gutters.

"Not here Raz."

++++++++++++++++++++++++


The two Brujah sat in the back of the bar, obscurred by shadows. Raz took another long drag on his cigarette and then turned to Willard.

"So you're sure?" he asked for the third time. Willard ran a hand through his thinning blonde hair.

"Yes, for Christ's sakes Raz, I'm sure." he blurted.

"So you really think Prince Satan is on his way out huh?" Raz said with a smile.

"Yes, look I'm telling you. I know a lic with a friend who works for a Whip." he paused for a dramatic effect.

"What the hell are you stoppin for? Go on!" Willard sighed, Raz was good help, but he was dumb as sh*t.

"Look, the Prince is apparently off doing his Satanic thing. You know, you've heard the stories..."

"Dude, I've done a lot more than heard stories! I've been in the Elysium when he walked in....scary motherfu..."

"Yeah yeah, anyway, like I was saying. Word is his Seneschal is a pushover, too obsessed with God and his Sire to care about anything else. The Sheriff is never around anymore..."

"For REAL?"

"Yeah man! When's the last time you heard about a Thin Blood gettin ashed around here? Sh*t, even the Sabbat run around here like they own the place..." Willard shook his head and sat back on the sticky vinyl seat. The bar flies were beginning to thin now, stumbling out the door one by one. Willard sighed once more. "Listen, there's never gonna be a better oppurtunity...."

"Yeah but we could get in some seriously deep sh*t if we get caught man..."

"Do you want to spend your unlife living under these Elders thumbs??" Raz shook his head.

"Alright....then it's settled."

((alright, a few things....number one, there's scheme goin down in Cascadia. number two, i don't think we RP enough about the nobody Kindred of Cascadia. I've been readin my WoD books lately and you know something? not many Kindred get to meet the Prince of Seneschal or Sheriff or whatnot. also the Prince is supposed to be someone that strikes fear into the hearts of Kindred...no one here seems afraid of Valek, which is odd...who knows...we'll see. :smile: muwahahaha

((who are you? this all sounds Great, im also doing a little plotting. :lol:

A disgruntled punk chick trudged down the street, her eyes the only give away to others of her kind. Her red hair spiked now 10 inches high, colored red and orange.

She licked her lips for a moment. Seeing two of her kind, both male, one hugging the other tightly. She passed by them, surely unnoticed.

She leaned against the wall of the allyway. She soon peeked around the corner, her senses so hightened that she could sense a pinprick 5 miles away if she was listening for it. Then, grinning as she watched the two kindred she clambered up between the two walls of the narrow ally. She popped up on top of the roof and followed the two men to a grimmy bar. She muttered something about how only Brujah would come to a place like this. She knew that her curiousity would probably get her in trouble... yet again.

She moved into the bar silently, sliding into the back corner. A waitress asked if she wanted a drink...

She nodded, "Beer."

"What kind miss?"

"The cold kind."

The girl promptly brought her a cold can of beer, she popped it open staring at the table as she drank, sunglasses hiding her brilliant blue eyes. Her piercings glinting casually in the dim bar.

Then she listened. Interested deeply by what she heard.