{SoC} Survivors of Cascadia
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Jyhad City
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Author:  Arcane [ Wed Apr 27, 2005 8:02 am ]
Post subject:  Jyhad City
~Sunset- Cascadia

/-\
The blazing sun slowly dropped below the horizon which cast a foreboding twilight on the city, only to be replaced by an onslaught of rolling grey clouds that seemed to stretch for eternity. The moon was already high in the darkening sky, but the waning crescent was difficult to spot against the backdrop of blanketing overcast. Atmospheric conditions were perfect for a spectacular night of supernatural endeavors, which the local underground population sensed even before the sun could completely disappear to the other side of the earth. A certain feeling of dread touched the dark city as the last pieces of natural light fled the scene to safer ground, giving the impression that fear would be the only ruler of the streets tonight, and possibly a number of consecutive nights to come. One thing was certain in the ever-changing aura and air of this once semi-quiet metropolis of Cascadia: a war was coming, the Jyhad was coming. Nothing would escape from the backlash of this approaching conflict, nothing with or without a pulse for that matter.
/-\

Opportunity and luck were a rare occurance in someone's unlife, and James was all too familiar with misfortune and the hazards of fate. He couldn't complain with how things had turned out for him, the free plane ride in the cargo bay and undisturbed rest amongst other people's luggage, but his cramped sleeping quarters still gave him a mild headache and sore muscles. The security he came across in leaving the airport gave him little trouble, but thoughts of what he'd be doing later that night continued to bother him beyond reason. It wasn't every day James had to repeat a murder, especially one he was already certain was behind him. The only comfort he'd receive by taking his enemy's unlife this time, would be the fact that he'd have the chance to bare witness to the Giovanni's demise. Regardless, it left an empty feeling in his stomach.

Out on the streets of the city, the big man decided to begin his chores and set up the night for what had to be done. He hunted down a taxi, eventually, and headed for an open pawnshop closer to the dock district. Gold n' Gunz stood out like a sore thumb on the corner lot of a nearly blacked out block, which was plagued with lower life forms and broken businesses, with the near-exception of the Adult Toy Store and Quickie Mart on the other corner. James had seen worse, but his priorities were focused on getting his hands on the items he needed immiediately. 'The sooner I can get this message up, the sooner this ends,' he thought as he tossed the fare to the driver and slid out of the back seat, 'they better have alot of ammo, too'. The big man closed the distance quickly, making sure to extend his concealment to cover his appearance in security cameras before stepping onto the first step, and headed inside the well-lit building. The fenced and caged interior greeted the cainite with a low sigh, followed by the toothy grin of a middle-aged Brazilian man behind the transparent glass and sound box.

"What'll it be, Senhor?" the thick accent was only noticeable when he combined the two languages, and his newest customer could only look on in hopes of being able to ignore it.

"I need a couple flare guns, and I need them now." James reached into his pocket as he spoke, and began tossing bills into the receiving tray. "I also need a good stack of flares for them, too." The toothy grin was replaced by a look of bliss, and the transaction proceeded and concluded without flaw. Back out on the streets, James made his way through the lifeless hordes in the direction of water, carrying his equipment without fear. Moments later, the big man found himself standing before a dilapidated warehouse a few mere feet from the watery edge; his first objective in sight. Up the shear side of the building and across the roof to the waterside threw violent sounds into the air, though mixed with the overwhelming decay of disuse, his racket drew little attention. Then, with the flat horizon before him, and the grey 'touch' to everything above it, the feeling in his stomach shifted to motivation.

The view of the water brought back haunting memories to the cainite, and the need for victory pumped his burning blood through his body. "This time our Jyhad will finalize." James raised both the loaded 'fire-spewers' and launched their ammunition into the dull sky. Without missing a beat, he reloaded and fired again, then again, then from out in the dark sea a couple flares blazed into the air. The message had been sent and received, and the big man knew the game had begun. Though he didn't know how many nights of hit and runs it'd take till one of them fell, he was more than certain that at the end of this conflict, one of them would meet The Final Death. James was there to make sure the inbred little son of a bitch was ash this time around, and that he wouldn't be coming back for yet another encore to crucify his existance again.

The night was young, and the big man still had much to do, so he descended down to the ground with his flare guns pocketed away and their ammo safely stored about his person. James left the gloomy area for more active streets to hail a cab, and once inside one he consulted the informaion his Master had given him less than half a day before. The means of contacting the Elder Assamite made little sense to him, but he assumed it was simply ignorance on his behalf on the relevance of the building to use as the message. Once he stood outside his destination, James drove a nail through the door with his finger to pin the cryptic note to the front door. He assumed, and hoped, whom ever was supposed to be watching the building was baring witness at that moment. As he walked away from the establishment, the big man's thoughts turned back to his true purpose, and hunting down his prey was next on the agenda.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Alex Troop smugly looked over the corpse he had just reanimated, allowing satisfaction to flood into his tainted features. His 'workspace' was full of cadavers in various forms of decay and animation, though the corpse laying on the gurney before him was obviously a much better working model. The tormented being was wrapped head to toe in heavy chains and black tight leather, bulging the creature's already overly enlarged set of arms through the fabric. The Giovanni's taste in cannon fodder was of the most extreme and dangerous kind: the kind that doesn't die easily. Like an innovator creating his perfect piece of work, the depraved vampire cradled and favored his abominable creation to the court of the other atrocious beings in the room.

The display of self-assurance brought a devious smile from the Necromancer's mortal sister and vampiric sire, whom stood back to enjoy the show he was putting on. "If you're going to make love to it, you better loosen some of those chains."

The interruption spurred a glare and fanged hiss from the craving cainite, only to soften and lessen in intensity when the owner of the words made her presence known. "No, not this one. He's too flawless to taint with my own pleasure. He will be my partner in this war, my Lieutenant-at-arms."

His sire gave a vicious smile and moved closer to the anathema and its creator while having to step around the pieces of the bodies before. "I have a message for you," she said as she wrapped an arm around his waist and slid her body against his, "you'll enjoy it more than the completion of your zombu."

The two made eye contact, and a quiver started in the male's lip. "I'm expecting good news from two sources. Make me a happy little vampire, mother. I beg to be pleased."

A dark red tongue flicked out from the woman's mouth to slide across her filmy yellowed fangs, then made its way to the ear of her imploring childe to whisper. "The kraken has entered the sea."

Blood tears mixed with the fluids from the bodies he had been 'playing' with began to flow down Alex Troop's deathly pale cheeks as the news hit home, and he grabbed his sire up in an overly aggressive and passionate embrace. "Oh sweet sister, now our dreams can come true." The two helped the leather corpse to its feet and headed to the garage above their heads, beginning their search for their fun out on the town. Their vehicle moved through the streets to the less liked areas of Cascadia, with a conspiracy of like-minded Giovanni in a horde of other vehicles surrounding their own. War was rolling towards the docks, ready to overflow into the neighboring areas to find their target of opportunity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(OOC: The Free-Form Thread is finally up, let's get it rollin')
Author:  Poe [ Wed Apr 27, 2005 12:40 pm ]
Post subject: 
((D-yamn!
Author:  Lady Cyrilynn [ Thu Apr 28, 2005 9:32 am ]
Post subject: 
YUM!! Nice tasty appetizer!! Now........... what's for dinner? :shock:
Author:  Pace [ Thu Apr 28, 2005 11:35 am ]
Post subject: 
[i:91de95958b]Philadelphia, Ramsey’s Gymnasium. 2AM.[/i:91de95958b]

Stillman watched as his younger friend put himself through his....paces.

The young Kindred was recovering admirably. His pride had quickly repaired itself, just as his flesh knitted together. But he still lacked the power he’d become infamous for using. He leapt over the horsebox, spinning on one outstretched leg to bring his raised leg up and tuck it in to slam the knee into a hanging kickbag. Dropping and rolling away he ran to the ropes, pulling himself up rapidly before swinging from a second rope to land without ceremony by Stillman’s ragged coat-heels.

[i:91de95958b]“You’re looking good, kid.”[/i:91de95958b]

Pace’s look could have sunk a battleship as he stretched tired muscles, warming down after his exercise. He grabbed a towel from benches, and dabbed expended blood from his brow.

[i:91de95958b]“I’m thirsty, you want one?” [/i:91de95958b] He motioned to the bloodbags being warmed in a pan of gently heated water.”

[i:91de95958b]“No thanks, I ate already. Besides you could probably finish it without my help.”[/i:91de95958b]

Pace nodded before walking to the pot, pouring the contents into a tall glass. Steam rising from the vessel as he walked back to the hunched Nosferatu’s side.

[i:91de95958b]“You ok, Pace?”

“All things considered, I’m not bad. Just got thing on my mind.”

“K being “things”?”

“Yeah, that’d be one.”[/i:91de95958b]

Stillman nodded.

[i:91de95958b]“I never thanked you, Stillman. For getting me out of there I mean.”[/i:91de95958b] The young Kindred looked visibly moved by his gratitude. In all the years they had known each other, Stillman rarely saw this side of Pace. Sure he was a great friend, hilarious at times, and fiercely loyal. But he was almost never this fragile looking. It concerned the old Nosferatu who peeled a layer of onion-layer-like skin from his forehead before piping up.

[i:91de95958b]“Don’t sweat it. That’s what friends are for. And you are my good friend.”[/i:91de95958b]

Pace nodded silently.

[i:91de95958b]“Any news?”

“K is on the move. Got an old friend coming to see you too. She’s been keeping tabs on our mutual “friend”. Well that and she wanted to come see her favourite “Brujah”.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see.”[/i:91de95958b] Stillman grinned a rictus grin. The expression on the Nosferatu’s face would have terrified anyone else with sense enough. But Pace had grown accustomed to his visage. It didn’t bother him to see a crumbling, torn white skull of a face peering at him from beneath a wide brimmed hat.

Pace simply groaned.

[i:91de95958b]“This a private party or what?”[/i:91de95958b]

The voice was definitively feminine. It carried everything that entailed. Edge. Seduction. Cruelty. Lust. And a blessing of softness. The package in its whole was undeniably....

[i:91de95958b]“Namaria?”

“Who else could it be?”[/i:91de95958b] The swan-like figure swept into the room like she had stepped off the stage and forgotten the show was over.

Pace rolled his eyes. [i:91de95958b]“Thanks, Still.”[/i:91de95958b]
Author:  Namaria [ Thu Apr 28, 2005 12:20 pm ]
Post subject: 
[i:0e74713d14]"Hmm.....,"[/i:0e74713d14] the singer eye'd Pace up and down, [i:0e74713d14]"you know, for someone who's been through the meat grinder, you look almost life-like!"[/i:0e74713d14] The grin that curved the soft lips was decidedly impish. She noticed the beverage the young Kindred was in the act of swallowing and gestured, [i:0e74713d14]"Any more of that to be had? I'm a tad thirsty after my gig tonight. Came straight over from the Club."[/i:0e74713d14]

Stillman flicked a glance at the young Cainites and then got up to do the honors. He walked back and held out a mug which was taken by a slender, graceful hand bedecked by rings. On anyone else it would have looked over done, but on her, merely managed to look expensive. With poise that bespoke class and breeding, she thank the trainer.

[i:0e74713d14]"So, Pace, how are you, really?"[/i:0e74713d14] Once again the eyes traveled over the body, lingering at the waist, before continuing a slow leisurely journey to the eyes, with a raised-eyebrow stop at the bulging muscles and a soft sigh at the breadth of those rippling shoulders. Namaria liked looking at Pace, but the truth was, she liked her men submissive to her whims. And that powerhouse in front of her was anything but!

[i:0e74713d14]"I'll live."[/i:0e74713d14] came the short reply as he set down his own drink and wandered away toward the mirror attached to the wall with a wide shelf below it. He picked up another, fresh towel on his way and slung it around his neck. Staring with focused concentration, he turned his head this way and that, then ran the palm of his hand over his scalp, smoothing non-existent strands. Picking up a lethal looking razor, he began to scrap at emerging hairs. At the same time, watching the reflection of Aria in the mirror.

She was watching him watching her and her eyes began to smolder with unspoken thoughts. That heart shaped face, blond hair, green eyes and pert, freckled nose spoke of rolls in the hay, roasting chicken, smoked hams and moonlit rides but rile her up and the scene could take on an entirely different camera angle. An angry Daughter was a woman who could bore a drill through your brain and smile with that emerald gaze gone to chilled glass.

The young woman licked her lips, lapping up escaping droplets like she was savoring candy, before she drew in breath to say something else. The phone jangled it's demand and Pace drew the coarse cloth across his pate as he put the receiver to his ear. There was a brief silence before lightning rolled across his visage and the storm gathered. 'Maria let out the air she'd sucked up as the thunder exploded out of Pace's mouth in the form of curses she'd only dreamed of. She'd never seen him so furious in all the time she'd known him.
Author:  Arcane [ Sat Apr 30, 2005 5:42 pm ]
Post subject: 
~Early Evening- Dock District

Being full on blood brought confidence to the big man's demeanor, and he became anxious in finding his target. Returning to the docks after feeding seemed like the basic place to start, but what was waiting for him there changed his outlook on how the night was going to progress all together. Dozens of cainites crawled along the blackened streets, some sitting in automobiles of varying sizes with the rest hanging off the exteriors brandishing weapons and hungry fangs, all shared that look in their eyes that Alex Troop had patented half a century ago. For the first time in James's unlife, he regretted his need to settle personal matters alone.

The numbers he was up against were staggering, but he refused to let that fact sway his opinion of his capabilities. Wrapping himself up in his obfuscate, James headed out to get a closer look at one stationary and secluded group of cainites, but only made it a few steps closer before the air in front of him began to ripple like water. The big man held back the need to panic as the first thoughts of confusion flooded through his mind, but as the disembodied form of a spectral figure materialized into view, the feeling of dread passed through him. The wraith before him let loose an unholy howl that both displayed the dead thing's pleasure of its finding and alerted the nearby kindred of what it had found, which pulled the big man's obfuscate away from his presence. A score of cold undead eyes settled on James in an instant, followed by the ravenous roar of wailing Giovanni that would've put any Blood Hunt or Wild Hunt cry to shame.

His blunder would normally bring a slap to his forehead had the situation been a tad less hostile, but at the moment James could only clench his fists and hope he wouldn't lose control of his beast from the coming assault. In unison, the opposing force exited their vehicles and formed a barrier surrounding the lone cainite, with the wraith still hovering directly in front of him. James was used to being in situations that required a witty remark or foul insult that exhibited his lack of fear for his unlife, but at the moment the anticipation and the rage he felt from the decades he spent tracking his enemy down sent him straight into combat. Without so much as a warning, the thick vampire crouched to hurl himself into the air with all his undead strength, sending him above his adversaries in a menacing pose of defiance.

As James fell back to earth and the imminent slaughter flashed through his mind, a moment of clarity sent a wave of peace into his heart. His usual need to take down as many opponents as possible before falling was replaced by an undeniable desire to succeed in a flawless performance of martial skill. The feeling wasn't alien to him, but it was an unexpected reaction for his undead condition, going back instead to his mortal days where honor was always more important than causing as much damage as he was physically capable. His stance shifted as he fell, with his left foot tucking up under his backside, his arms clenching into defensive and balanced positions, and his right leg straightening into a pinnacle of destruction. Martyrs never have much of a sense of self-preservation, but at the moment, the only sense James could feel was the flow of combat, and not even his stalwart conviction held sway over his actions.

Like a black blur, James landed on the first Giovanni to step up to the plate, and his weight and force pushed the big man's foot through the Necromancer's face, neck, and torso. Before the vampire could turn to ash, James tore his leg free from the twice-dead thing and spun with a hook kick with the other to take the head off the Giovanni next to him. His enemies began to react, taking aim with their weapons or stepping closer to throw their own style of hand-to-hand into the mix, but their determined enemy paled their efforts in comparison. In the same instance his balance recovered from his last assault, the big man crouched to dodge a barrage of bullets from two uzi-wielding mother fuckers and turned the posture into a leg sweep that threw one Aikido student to his back. Before his enemies could adjust their aim, James launched a double strike to his downed opponent that cracked his skull inward and out the other side, ashing him before the impacts could send his limp body hurtling across the street.

As James shifted his weight to balance himself out, a new sensation took over him, a near-frenzy-like feeling that guided him to bring death to those present. A quick hop to his feet positioned him to plunge his body into the furthest opponent away from him, and used the momentum of the maneuver to tear the head off one of the uzi bastards along his aerial path. The sword-handling Giovanni at the end of his flight lashed out at the big man with all his might to take him down, but the sword snapped in half as James backhanded it out of his way and drove his other fist through his adversary's chest, which propelled the Necromancer's severed heart through his back and a few blocks down the road. Without turning to face his surely approaching enemies, James launched himself once again into the air, using the time it'd take to land to spin and readjust his course for the next opponent.

Bullets and shotgun pellets sped all about the aired kindred, but none hit home and the chaos only strengthened their target's resolve, resolve which tripled as he landed again with a snap kick that spun another head off into the distance. As James made a new thrust towards his next opponent, fiery balls of hate sprang up into the wraith's spectral hands and began bombarding the cainite with relentless fury. The big man decided to change his course, and hopped through the intangible being while dodging its flaming attacks and undecipherable insults. On the other side of the ethereal enemy a shotgun blast caught James in the chest, but the kindred's fortitude and momentum shrugged the onslaught off without showing a sign of slowing. The owner of the weapon regretted his lack of alacrity to recock the shotgun and fire again, as his target closed the distance and splintered the scattergun with a punch that shattered the arm holding it. Another punch cracked ribs and dented the Giovanni's chest inward, before the body turned to ash from the spinning back kick to the neck which followed.

A jagged volley of bullets sped towards the big man's back as he dashed to the side of the remains of his last opponent, followed by the howling warcries of the last two melee combatants whom were rushing their way through the ashed carnage littering the battlefield to their most hated enemy. Fists were thrown, blocked, then repelled as the last uzi Giovanni desperately hastened to load another clip into his smoking weapon, with the wraith watching helplessly as its only adversary faught without so much as a shred of emotion to feed the dead thing's passion pool. One wrong step by the bald Necromancer in his Tae Kwon Do stance positioned James just right to send his fist into the tactless corpse fucker's lower flank, crippling the cainite by liquifying his kidney and splintering his ribs up into his torso. The fighter wailed in pain as he hit the concrete ground while his brother backed away from the fray for fear of his unlife, despite their match of vampiric strength upon one another.

"You win man! You fuckin' win, just let us go!" The display sickened James, but he could taste bile in the back of his mouth and knew it was a lie. As the big man altered his next plan of action, the 'click' sound of a refreshly prepared uzi softly sounded in the near distance, alerting his attention to the only remaining threat. In an instant, James grabbed his downed foe to use him as a shield as he charged the automatic firearm head-on, ignoring the fleeing Giovanni whom was sprinting towards one of the vehicles they had arrived in. The uzi opened fire with a stream of bullets at the big man without regard of its comrade, which, unbeknownst to James, were deadly dragonbreath rounds. The burning ammo disintegrated the screaming Giovanni before he could acknowledge the true severity of his wounds, and a single shot lodged into the big man's left shoulder through his useless undead shield.

Before another round could find the big man to punch into, James rolled to the side and sought cover behind a Volkswagon, which was then torn to shreds by the barrage of ammunition. Finally, the satisfying 'click' of an empty clip rang clear, and the overconfident Giovanni knelt to reload his next dangerous magazine of vampiric death for his enemy of the hour. To the Necromancer's dismay, and vehicle he had just pelted to ruin suddenly jiggled from the other side, then was lifted up into the air with the angry glare of his massive adversary peering out from underneath. The uzi clicked again to symbolize the new cartridge was accepted just in time for James to hurl the vehicle at his target, though James had better aim than the panicking cainite, and the shear weight of the chunk of metal seperated the Necromancer's head from his shoulders and his torso from his waist.

A car door slammed shut and the big man sprang into action, hurtling himself towards the automatic weapon of the cainite he had just sent to hell and took aim at the fleeing enemy. His sights lined up and his vampiric strength kept the recoil from ruining his shots, and emptied the new clip into the vehicle. James could hear the sizzle of melting undead flesh even before a round made its way into something critical and turned the war party's ride into a permanent coffin for one, launching the metalic fireball several yards into the air. One opponent remained, which propelled the last vampire left unalive to his feet in a second, and twirled on his steel-toed boots to face the ghastly image of the wraith. The two stared at each for a moment, both allowing the scene around them to calm a little before their business would conclude.

"What's binding you here, wraith? Your masters are dead, go on. Get the fuck outa here." James held all his feelings in check as he spoke, aware of atleast a few of the things he knew never to do around one of the Restless Dead.

The dead thing looked on with passionless translucent eyes, choosing its words carefully. "Ieee waaant myyy itemmmmm!"

"Alright then, ugly." James held his stance, but didn't approach. "Just tell me what your fetter is so we can both part ways peacefully."

His choice of words brought a spark of interest into the wraith's facade, though only for a moment. "Ieee waaant myyy Mommmma!"

'Oh shit' James thought, 'I hope this thing is just being cryptic, or I'm fucked.' Quickly, the big man scattered out to all the bodies of ash strewn about the area, hoping to get lucky in finding something so this confrontation could end without the need of another Necromancer or, even worse, a Thaumaturgist. Several minutes passed, James was no more closer to what he was looking for, and the roaring sounds of other war parties started moving closer to his location. He had never regretted blowing something before, until that night, anyway. Finally, when the sounds of peeling tires and automatic weapons being fired into the air were but around the corner and down the block, James stuck his hand into an ashy pant pocket and pulled free the photograph of a slightly overweight mortal woman. As the picture was brought into the plain view, the wraith began franticly crawling its way towards the big man with the dreadful sound of shackled wailing pouring from its intangible mouth.

James seized the moment, and took grasp of the situation with the picture held out in front of him towards the wraith. "I give you this, you leave me the fuck alone and disappear from me. Permanently, got it?"

"Annnythiiinggg forrr Mmmommma!" With that, the big man tossed the photograph at the shade and turned to escape the area. The joy of hearing the wraith behind him howl in pleasure and fade away into the underworld sped his retreat from the battlefield, and safely took him several blocks away from the waves of enemies now hording the streets. Breaking into a warehouse, James made his way to the roof, to burst out into the open air of freedom. The comfort of wrapping himself up with his own obfuscate without necessity brought a smile to his face, and he knew if he was going to succeed in this fight against his Giovanni adversaries, he'd need more than just luck and a burst of martial inspiration. The burning sensation in his shoulder hadn't left him, and he knew it'd take atleast a night to heal the wound, but at the moment his physical condition wasn't as important as the need for a plan to solve his dilemma.

James was alone against an army, but the need for an ally never crossed his mind as he thought to himself. 'I'll need to pull some recon on these sons-a-bitches before I can execute a means of offense, but I need to remain out of sight for fear of any more chained wraiths. Damn I wish that Toreador taught me some extra sensory shit back in the day instead of extra speed, I already had that City Gangrel contact to go to at the time. Ahhh hell.... I better stay up top. I'm sure they got a spook for each vehicle, and I ain't gonna go looking for their damn fetters every fucking time.' James rubbed his chin at the last thought he had, wondering if he had in fact already came up with a solution. 'Maybe I don't have to....' The big man hopped to the next rooftop and quickly made his way out the area. An idea had given him motivation to investigate a plausible lead.
Author:  Isabella Garrett [ Sun May 08, 2005 2:25 am ]
Post subject: 
Isabella didn't know whether to smile or frown as she flicked through the papers that had spewed out of her fax machine all day. The downfall of her kind would be a sort off cleansing for her but what would it mean to the life that she clung to desperately.

Either way she would not be a winner.....that is unless she decided to take sides.......a thin malicious smile spread across her face and she decided that that was the only way to get back at her own kind.......to turn against them.

Revolt against what they were.....reveal them for their true characters...vampires.....killers....ah if only....did she dare?
bodies had gone missing from the mortuaries, even newly buried dead had being reported unearthed from their final resting places.......it would mean a sure breach of what she was meant to uphold but then maybe........... life's for a life........a trade off.......a cure for the disease that ran through her body for the annihalition of her kind...... was that a fair trade...... was it one she could get away with ? was it one she could live with ? live.....now there was a word .......did she want life more than she yearned existence?
Author:  Tyler [ Sun May 29, 2005 8:34 pm ]
Post subject: 
[i:233fd620bf]"We're nearly there Tyler."[/i:233fd620bf] the driver's warning was barely audible from the front seat of the ebon limousine that coasted through Cascadia's financial district. Behind the tinted windows, and the special kevlar steel plating Gabriel had installed the previous year, Tyler entertained yet another in what seemed like an endless procession of "guests".

And when Tyler entertained, he did so in the grandest fashion he could imagine...

[i:233fd620bf]"Oh my GOD Tyler..."[/i:233fd620bf] came the sultry voice made almost gutteral by lust.

The young Ventrue felt the absurd pang of jealousy strike once more. There were plenty of factors at work here, but God certainly wasn't one of them.

The limousine rendevouz had become part of his nightly routine, and had aided the youth in getting to know the ins-and-outs of the bachlorettes of upper tier Cascadian society. Some accused him of being crass and having no depth, but from his perspective behind one of the city's most promising young debutantes, he had plenty of depth.

The evokation of the almighty continued to repeat much to Tyler's chagrin and had reached nearly a fevered pitch by the time they arrived at the Tower Hotel, one of Gabriel's more neglected assets.

[i:233fd620bf]"Sorry,"[/i:233fd620bf] Tyler said coyly, reclaiming his belongings and slipping his Perry Ellis dress slacks back over his sculpted thighs, [i:233fd620bf]"but I have a meeting I absolutely can't miss..."[/i:233fd620bf]

[i:233fd620bf]"What? Oh Tyler please...please stay!"[/i:233fd620bf] the young nameless body begged, her eyes filled with a desire and passion that the young Cainite hadn't felt in years.

[i:233fd620bf]"Would I leave if it was anything but crucial? Besides...you have George here,"[/i:233fd620bf] he said motioning to the driver. [i:233fd620bf]"and he'll take you anywhere you'd like. I'll meet you here in an hour."[/i:233fd620bf]

He left her with a final kiss and stepped into the opulance of the hotel. The nights were seemingly shorter and his schedule was far too frantic, he thought to himself as he watched the elevator indicator creep higher and higher towards his office. Master or not, Gabriel had no bloody right to take an extended holiday with that scruffy little Gangrel hybrid Poe. He had even left Kay behind to pester Tyler endlessly about his Master's whereabouts!!

Maybe the old bugger was gay?

And now the young Kindred, still technically a fledgling, was left to oversee the maddeningly detailed business ventures of Mississippi Trading Co. It was more than a vampire could stand.

The elevator chimed cheerfully and the doors opened to a plush hallway with a single set of double doors at the end. Tyler shook his head in resignation to his fate and exited the elevator.

He slipped through the doors quietly, creating just enough of a opening to slide his lithe figure through. Instantly the lights flipped on and the Master Suite was illuminated.

[i:233fd620bf]"Tyler! Where've you been?"[/i:233fd620bf] another nameless cried, her face streaked by mascara. Over her shoulder, on the balcony a lonely table for two sat unattended. The cold lambchops untouched, the candles burnt to the bottoms of their wics. A bottle of wine sat conspicuously empty.

[i:233fd620bf]"I'm so sorry babe,"[/i:233fd620bf] he sighed, slumping his shoulders and moving forward to embrace her. [i:233fd620bf]"it's this damned work schedule...I couldn't get away."[/i:233fd620bf]

[i:233fd620bf]"Yeah...I know. You work yourself to death while your boss vacations? Hardly seems fair."[/i:233fd620bf]

A smile flashed across his face and he slid his hands over her shoulders and down the width of her back, slipping the straps from her silken nightgown from her shoulders. He could feel the heat from her body intensify just as a knock came at the door.

He opened it, the annoyance barely containable. The concierge stood sheepishly in the hall.

[i:233fd620bf]"You have a visitor sir."[/i:233fd620bf]
Author:  Arcane [ Thu Feb 16, 2006 2:37 pm ]
Post subject: 
[Dialing Number.... Awaiting Other Line]
[Connection Started at 8:34.12 P.M.]

"What the fuck, James? You just got there a couple of hours ago."

"I know, Haqim. Just put Abdul on the line."
--------
"Don't tell me you need our help already."

"I need your knowledge. There's been an unexpected developement, and I'm poorly equip for the situation."

"Tell me your dilemma."

"My adversary has cashed in his boons and resources to have support from his family, despite the reputation he's earned for himself in the last century. They've gathered a force of wraiths to help combat me back, and I can only imagine what they have waiting for me if that doesn't work."

"Tell me what you need."

"Tell me how I can get these relentless dead off my back, I can't kill all these corpse fuckers if they're using allies that are immune to physical attacks."

"You'll have to call a wraith to assist you, it's the only way someone who's inept at the Necromantic Arts can fight against incorporeal beings."

"And how am I suppose to do that?"

"You're good at finding places where a great tragedy has occured. Hunt down such a location and speak directly to the ghost that haunts there, your bartering skills will be most useful."

"How am I going to convince something that's more dead than myself? I can't offer the bitch a fucking donut for its services."

"No, but you can offer to help put it to absolute rest."
::silence for fifteen seconds::
"I'll pass. What other means are there for accomplishing my goals?"

"None, James. You have no choice but to haggle with it."

"I'm not running around a city like this collecting artifacts for some misguided soul with a grudge and a horrible sense of humor. I've done that shit before, and I refuse to go through that bullshit again."

"The abuse that one wraith will put you through is nothing compared to what you'll have to put up with if you don't seek an ethereal ally. Quit your bitching, James. Unless you think you're capable of learning Blood Magic over the phone to combat your foes, than you'll have to do what I say."

"Give me a better bargaining tool, I need something more than a promise of release if I want to come out on top."

"::sigh:: Just mention the fact that you're going against Giovanni. If the ghost you encounter has been dead for more than a couple decades, it'll no doubt know who they are, and be more lenient on the tasks it sets you up with after it's completed its end of the bargain."

"Alright, fine. Before I go, what's the deal with Fury? Have you contacted him?"

"Fury won't be able to make it. He told us on the phone he was too busy and asked that we call early this evening. Unfortunately, one of his friends answered his phone to tell us he's gone missing within the last six hours."

"Oh fucking wonderful! I'm assuming that's another way of saying 'The War is heating up, and it's time to get back home', eh?"

"Looks that way, let's just hope the combat doesn't spill out onto Orlando streets."

"You'll have to rally up with Fury's brood if things get out of hand, I have a feeling I'll be stuck in Cascadia for a while."

"Our hands are being called sooner than anticipated, I'll begin the processes."

"Be sure that you do, and don't get yourself killed."

"That goes quintuple for you, Relic."

"Caution isn't my specialty."

[Transmission Ended at 8:37.02 P.M.]
Author:  Arcane [ Thu Feb 16, 2006 2:44 pm ]
Post subject: 
~8:37 P.M.- Downtown

The gas station parking lot James chose to make his call from was dead, except for the drug dealer in front of the store and the two prostitutes by the corner. In anticipation of what his next move would be, the big man decided it best to move to a less hostile and more depressing part of the city. James pressed the End button on his cell phone just as three police cruisers zoomed passed him with their lights flashing but their sirens silent, their destination undoubtedly towards the docks. He knew that the resourceful Giovanni would ward the local agencies away, so they could continue their hunt. That was fine by him, he'd prefer as few mortals present as possible.

It was time for James to find the best place to uncover a wraith, and if his stomach were a working organ, it would've been turning over as he approached the local whores. Bills in hand, the big man put on a stern face. "I pay, you give me info on what I want. Deal?"

Toothless grins answered his question, followed by slight nods. In unison, "Whatcha need, hun?"

Under his mask, James was gritting. "Don't laugh, just tell me if there are any 'haunted' buildings that've been in the city for a while."

One raised a crusty eyebrow while the other took a taken aback stance. Both regained their miserable postures, and one replied to his request. "There's an abandoned theatre about ten blocks south of here, been vacant since before I was born. The stiffs think some actor that died there is still roaming the stage."

As he handed the bills over, James commented, "Business with you wasn't as painful as I thought it would be," and left the area as quickly as possible. The big man found the location within the general area that he was directed to, biting his tongue for only a moment as he approached the decimated entrance. The front of the building was that of either a generic dilapidated threatre or the secret haven or the night club of a Cainite. As James tore through the boarded-up doors, the spiteful insides made their impressions known. Like a less flamboyant 'Theater des Vampires', the interior stabbed out at the intruder with passive displays of dread and uncertainty, coupled with disarray and disrepair.

James stepped through the ruin towards the stage, all the while admiring the atmosphere and solitude his surroundings offered from the outside world. Strife clung to everything; even to the heavily saturated air, a sense of feeling seemed to 'drip' decay. This helped erase any doubt in the interloper's mind on whether or not he had chosen the right place to search, but the stillness of the open room continued to play on his nerves and anxiety. The Dead and the Undead both made their homes in darkness, though for entirely different reasons.

"Hello, housekeeping! Your average leech looking for your usual bowl of ectoplasm, any takers?" The fading tone in the man's voice barely echoed in the cluttered spacing, though his activity did stir up the first few layers of dust. A moment passed, and through the settling filth, James could see a slow-moving patch of darkness. The image bled into the surrounding environment, but the big man knew what he was looking at; it was that sort of scene you don't forget about. He stood his ground until the atmosphere once again settled to its previous gothic dullness, but kept an eye on the shade skulking in the corner. Sternly, James began a conversation he knew he'd live to regret. "I don't want to have anything to do with the intangible dead like yourself, but I need your help. Surely you've felt an influx of your kind of dead in the area...."

James flinched as a deep whisper shot into his ear. "What do you want from a tortured being?"

Anticipation replaced dread. "Some graverobbers are hording someone I hate, someone I need to kill. They've chained a bunch of dead to their collective to keep me at bay, and I'm no sorcerer."

"You are a brute." The whisper rose in pinch slightly. "Your undead strength-dependency is apparent through all layers of the curtain."

Some crimson rage began to run in with the vampire's usual dose of vengeance, though he didn't make that known. "I also use my wits, but neither are going to help me against your kind. I'm willing to help you towards eternal rest."

Spite flooded into the hushed voice. "I have many goals, but rest is not one of them."

James narrowed his eyes and flittered through a number of thoughts before responding. "What can I do to compensate for your services."

The response came faster than James expected or wanted. "I'll disable the Giovanni wraiths for you, if you destroy this cursed building and find my fetter."

Just what the big man didn't want to hear. "And where is this fetter, exactly?"

A moment of cold silence filled the room, shattered by the whisper. "My....beautiful mask, was taken from me by my mortal partner. In death, I have learned my partner shortly met her demise soon after I did, and my mask was passed on to her murderer."

James made a comfortable interjection. "And her murderer was?"

The whisper began with a stutter, but quickly recovered. "A leech, like you."

The big man innocently raised his hands. "You'll have to be more specific."

A low rumble emitted through the room, and then the patch of darkness floated closer to James. "A jealous actor by the name of Mark Earlwood. His night performances couldn't match up to ours..... foolish Toreador."

A sigh of relief emitted through the room. "Just a Torrie? Great. I happen to have an extensive list of that Clan."

The spirit rippled the air in front of the big man to manifest its incorporal form. "Then you are of more use to me than first thought."

James retorted. "Let's just hope you can help me out, as well. Now what would you suggest would be the best way to destroy your home?"

"Follow me into the basement." The ghost led the leech down a dusty set of stairs into the dank underbelly of the threatre. The dark room was uninteresting save for one relevant detail: four thick support beams. "Bring it down into itself, it would cost you so much less energy than me."

"Consider it done." James went to work on the building's substructure, tearing through the supports with little difficulty. The stability of the building weakened after each support was torn down, but stood its ground even with the basement in ruin. After the big man tore through the ground level floor and through the side wall into the nearby alley, however, the destruction finally brought the old threatre to its knees. With a final sighing breath the remaining walls caved in, sending a blast of dust throughout the neighborhood. The collaspe, though noisy, still seemed add a sense of peace to the surrounding area; a burden lifted.

James made his way through the alley, his companion hovering beside him yet out of sight. As the leech and the ghost made their way back towards the Docks to pick a fair fight, the vampire sparked up a conversation. "Call me James, what should I call you?"

The spirit paused before answering. "I am Isic."

The two continued towards the battlefield of blood and ether, both filled with their conviction and needs to satisfy.
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