She turned with an impish smile on her face.

"I never thought to see you again my old friend," she said.

Euryon was her oldest acquaintance. They had met on her third night as a Cainite, back in Pskov. The Teutons had just slashed their way through to meet their destiny at the hands of Aleksandr Nevsky. He and a young Sorenti had happened across one another by chance in the port town of Riga. They had followed the advancing Teutons. An advancing army providesvery easy feeding. After Pskov had been burned, they went in to have a look around. They found the fledgling Toreador weeping over her fallen subjects. Someone or something had arranged them in a horrid travesty of a crucifix and set them ablaze. They later found it was the Tzimisce. But that was another tale.

Eveshka gazed upon Euryon and reached out to touch his face with her gentle hands. He didn't react in any way. He was much older than she, perhaps he no longer felt anything human.

"I had hoped to see you though," she said with a smile.

Porter scowled as Kathy pulled his hair back. She seemed oblivious to his discomfort as she massaged his hair with treatments she’d ordered brought to the suite. Bundling his long tresses into a damp towel, she turned her attentions to his nails.

They weren’t chipped, or broken as she expected. But they were incredibly dirty. She groaned before ordering the irksome feral to rest both hands in a basin of warm water.

[i:f281e86be5]“It’ll soften the edges. And loosen some of that grime. Grimy nails just will not do, Porter.”[/i:f281e86be5] She smirked, knowing this was as bad a torment as any he would have experienced in his long years. He snarled, all ten fingers bathing in a warm solution. His hair bundled up on his head like a beehive. And a Toreador taking great pleasure in selecting cologne, and scents for him to wear. She lifted his hands from the basin, and taking a nail file she began to smoothen the edges, occasionally trimming and clipping with small nail scissors. He grumbled at Gabriel, as the Ventrue walked in carrying two suits.

[i:f281e86be5]“This is the best I could do at such short notice, but they are fine enough.”[/i:f281e86be5] He smiled, trying with limited success, not to snigger at the clearly upset Gangrel. Tyler walked in behind him, bearing a selection of shirts and ties, and placing a pair of polished leather soled shoes by the bed.

[i:f281e86be5]“The things I do for you, Gabriel.”[/i:f281e86be5] Porter tried to maintain his good humour.

Kathy tugged at his hands as he tried to turn away, squeezing pea sized blobs of a sweet smelling cream onto each nail before massaging it in. Taking great care to cover the cuticles, she hummed some indeterminate melody before showing her handiwork to the now beleaguered Gangrel.

[i:f281e86be5]“See? Now that wasn’t so bad, now was it?”[/i:f281e86be5] She gave Gabriel a teasing look before returning to his hair.

[i:4a8cfc6871]"I never thought to see you again, my old friend...
I had hoped to see you though."[/i:4a8cfc6871]

She touched his cheek as she spoke, and Euryon could do nothing but smile back at her; not one to rival the entrancing shape her lips made as [i:4a8cfc6871]she[/i:4a8cfc6871] smiled; but nevertheless, an honest and open display of the limited emotion that he felt.

[i:4a8cfc6871]"Aye; ah can say the same, lass."[/i:4a8cfc6871]

He took her hand from his face, gently squeezing it between both his own. The plague of thought was evident in her face; his memories of her had flooded back, and he recalled he had known her for most of his own unlife, and pretty much all of hers; amongst all other Vampires, he was one of the few he could call a friend.

True, she was a Toreador, and possessed all the fragrant abhorances of that clan which he tended to despise; yet, he could not despise her - whilst most Toreador proved to be nothing more than wimpish gluttons, or star struck wretches; Eveshka had proved to him more than sufficiently that she was more than the typical.

Of course, she had incessantly tried to convey the beauty of the arts, and the wonder of music, and the importance of literature to him; but, had not grown despondent and bored at his neglect to show much interest. They had fought side by side, killed side by side, and shared secrets greater and darker than should be shared outside of the deepest mortal love.

Though they rarely spent more than hours together; and sporadically over the centuries, there were few who could claim to know Euryons true name; or the story of his creation, or indeed various particles of information he kept nominally secret. Still, they had formed [i:4a8cfc6871]some[/i:4a8cfc6871] bond, and whilst never more than a friendship, it possessed many strengths of something more; perhaps, in a way, they knew each other far deeper than either was particularly comfortable with.

Truly, any sensible Vampire should keep itself sheltered and secure fromt he prying claws of the dead; even so, a gamble of such trust had perhaps paid off. They knew each other well; and now Euryon could see she was troubled... No, maybe not troubled, but concerned.

It was not his place to pry, but maybe it was his place to listen. He remembered a phrase that had become a motto of a Clan gather he had attended some years past;

[i:4a8cfc6871]Listen to the wind, it has blown through many more troubles than you...[/i:4a8cfc6871]

Something of an enigma, but Euryon gathered from it that it was always good to listen.

[i:4a8cfc6871]"Wha' ye doin' in this place anyway, lass? Ah did no' expect ta see any familiar face 'ere..."[/i:4a8cfc6871]

He released her hand, and sat down on the grass, looking out to the clear English nightsky; the rhyhtmic lapping of the Ouse in the background.

((awwww schnookums! :) :P

Just after dusk a silver Mercedes sedan left its comfortable garage in the outskirts of London and began a northward journey through the verdant English countryside. Its driver was an unremarkable man in his early 50s. It was his car, but not his journey.

Kemintiri lay in the back seat of the car, watching the stars. They were different now than when she had first learned them as a child. A different place in the world, a different time, a different sky. She tried to read the future from the sparkling points of light above her but she could glean no insight. There were no astrologers now, she knew. No real ones. Not like when she was mortal. The oracles then had a truer understanding of the stars. Ironically, in this strange time, mortals had actually reached up and touched the sky. Indeed, they had reached the moon and walked upon it. How mystifying that as mankind drew closer to the heavens men could no longer read the portents it contained.

As the car droned northward her mind wandered on a far grander scale. She remembered Lucinde, the angelic blond of Frankish descent. She remembered her as a student, but also as a mentor, a lover and an enemy. As far as she could count, she had at least three different memory perspectives of the same person. It made no sense.

There were others: D’Arcson, the Noserferatu, a lover, a blackmailer, a friend and the victim of her condemnation. And what of the one she went to see now, Eveshka. The firebird. As Michelle St. Claire, she remembered Eveshka fondly, as fondly as kindred could. Eve had been her lover; a jealous one perhaps, but still her lover.

A flash of memory: Eve burning her for loving another. Who? D’arcson? Perhaps. Others? Possible. Kemintiri could remember many things but faithfulness was not among them. That theme had played out long ago and her mind now bore the scars of her punishment. For a brief moment she remembered the red bearded man. She remembered when she was courted by those were as like gods. She remembered betraying one of them, but which? And she remembered punishment….

As that barred door in her mind began to open she tried desperately to kick it shut, close that portal. Anything was better than remembering that, even the destructive madness of Kemintiri the Anathema and certainly the life of Michelle St. Claire. There. That was what she would grab. She reached out and latched onto Michelle’s memory of Eveshka, of their bonding, of their play. The memory was fused with that of Kemintiri the Anathema, but she would accept it to hold on to her sanity for another day.

As the pair continued their journey north, she began to wonder what it was she really wanted – or more importantly, what did she fear? What would she find? What did she want to find? Each of her lovers betrayed her eventually. If she found them, and they her, she would likely be hunted again. In her state, could they destroy her? It seemed ridiculous, that after more than 3000 years she might face destruction. Still, it could come. And she realized she was afraid, but not of finding her enemies and being destroyed.

She was afraid of finding nothing. Loneliness it seemed, was a worse fate than final death...

With that realization taking shape in her head, Kemintiri entered York....

Kathy finished polishing the now slightly irate gangrels nails and stood up, stretching as she did.

"now if you gentlemen will excuse me , I have my own attire to attend to"

Gabriel smiled as she walked across the room, her long lean legs parting the robe she wore allowing them a glimpse of her pale creamy thighs.

He bit his lip as he felt an almost animalistic moan building inside him.

Kathy grinned as she walked, knowing the effect she was having on him.

Tyler looked away, almost disgustingly, but kathy caught his look and paused.
"you young man ....need to lighten up somewhat" she ruffled his now immaculate hair into something more like when he had first arisen.

" Gabriel, come tell me about where we are going while tyler helps porter and I get ready" she grinned at him her green eyes sparkling as she walked in the dressing room.

Kathy ducked as a cushion of the sofa was thrown at her.

"now ...now porter not very.."

"gentlemanly, I know kathy, I know" porter growled.

Eveshka sat down, and pulled off her blades. She lay them next to her in the grass.

"I've come back here to face a demon or two," she said.

Eury just blinked.

"Michelle St. Clair is back, and I must face her. I don't know what is going to happen when I do. We had a bit of a falling out," Eveshka lay back in the grass and looked up at the stars. She remembered a night sort of like this centuries ago, when Euryon looked more human. He was actually quite handsome then. She had actually asked him to make love to her. He said he could not as his heart was given to another: Jade, the Seneschal of that inept bastard Tybalt Capulet. That ended any chance of a relationship moving in that direction.

"Ah'm sure tha' you will handle yarself well," said Euryon.

Eve smiled slightly at him even though she could feel Kemintiri drawing closer. Perhaps all would be well. Perhaps she would be destroyed. Either way, it would be over.

They spoke for a bit longer before they parted again. She did not know when she would see Euryon again, she just knew that she would. She went back to Purgatory to wait for Kemintiri. She somehow knew that she would come there. Maybe she had been there already. Maybe she had been there all along.

[b:42e365451d]The Black Sea...[/b:42e365451d]

Having just typed up her latest report on her mission's progress, or more precisely the lack of it, to Julius on a laptop and sent it via her Satphone uplink. Morathi left her cabin to go up to the main deck of the 'Akademik Ekaterina'. The sky was cloudy and there was a hint of a distant storm in the air, fortunately according to the satellite images the storm would pass them by without impairing the surveys, but it was worth keeping an eye on. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind drift, feeling the turblent distant energies but contenting herself solely to observe for the timebeing. Sometimes the key to the art of magically controling the weather about a specific location was knowing when not to needlessly interfere...

[i:42e365451d]"You look far away... Hope I did not get your mixture messed up on that last dive...."[/i:42e365451d]

An amused voice broke through into her focus, satisfied her influence was unrequired on the future weather, Morathi returned her thoughts to the present and Dr Mooreland...

[i:42e365451d]"Ah Sheridan...."[/i:42e365451d]

She smiled warmly as she acknowledged the approach of the underwater archaeologist she had entranced with presence.

[i:42e365451d]"Oh I'm just enjoying the night air.... Bit of a breeze picking up in fact.... Any joy with setting up the ROVs for our really deep survey point?..."[/i:42e365451d]

She asked, having covered most of the more shallow dive locations they were starting to move onto the deeper ones, the ones that would test the Hardsuits to their limits, thus these were to be checked out first with remote sensing equipment. The greatest advantage to the ROVs was the ability of the tools to collect large amounts of information quickly and with minimum of risk. This allowed the search patterns to be much more widely spaced and cover more ground than could ever be achieved by solely relying on that covered in the dives Morathi and Mooreland had been involved in.

That said, there were still benefits to direct surveys and thus the ROVs combined with the Ekaterina's side-scan sonar, allowed the optimum locations to risk diving with the Hardsuits to be selected...

[i:42e365451d]"They should be all set to go... Those friends you brought onboard really seem to work wonders with them. Infact they even seem to have helped the crew of the Ekaterina patch this old lady into better shape than when we boarded her..... Truth be told I'm more worried about you doing these dives Lucilla... I've never met someone prepared to literally dive into the deep end so quickly after getting their feet wet before...."[/i:42e365451d]

Morathi smiled, her emerald eyes glinting playfully in the moonlight as she recognised the concern that the entranced mortal was feeling for what it was, she would have to keep an eye on that incase it impaired his willingness to teach her all the tricks of his specialised occupation...

[i:42e365451d]"Oh I'm a quick learner.... Besides its no less dangerous than some of my other hobbies... If a parachute failed to open on a jump I'd be in just as much trouble as I'd be facing in a failed Hardsuit.... Danger adds to the fun..."[/i:42e365451d]

It would be hard to argue against that, Lucilla Troy had on more than one occasion been sighted at motorcycle racing events and various extreme sports venues, this adreneline junkie image aspect to Morathi's mortal identity allowing her to hone skills for her Astor duties withot drawing too much attention, there were benefits to seeming eccentric after all...

[i:42e365451d]"Still... We wont be out here much longer... Once the deep water surveys of our potential locations for that ship are done we will be returning to port..."[/i:42e365451d]

****************************

[b:42e365451d]London[/b:42e365451d]

Willow was settling into her new surroundings well, her english cousins being of great help with her work, she checked the specs on the latest design one more time to ensure it was correct and sent the file to the off-location production department of Darrant Industries R&D with the delivery location data for when it was finished...

One final piece to join the many already assembled since she had arrived to head up this project on behalf of Mr Darrant and her mistress she mused, hoping her mistress was faring well with the inferior grade of equipment she had been able to provide at the time...

[i:42e365451d]"Paul... Have you managed to obtain an updated schedule on when that refit is going to be completed... I've just sent the data for the last of the special components for manufacture and delivery..."[/i:42e365451d]

She asked her english cousin as he passed her work area...

As the trio stepped out from underneath the overhang that stretched along the airport's main curb, the suppressive mauve night sky pressed down upon them. The last signature of a cloudy day only darkened Gabriel's mood as the three moved about the flood of cars and Kine who bustled and hustled about. Something definately wasn't right here. Gabriel had only experienced such a feeling once before in what seemed like eons ago.

[i:83a00c4bbc]"Oh look Gabriel, there he is!"[/i:83a00c4bbc] Kathy chirped, motioning for the boys to follow. She rushed a bit further down the curb, where a smartly dressed chaffeur stood holding a small white plaque reading "O'Brien Party". He stood next to an elegant machine, which seemed to set itself apart from the surrounding assortment of mini's. The 1964 Silver Cloud Rolls Royce shimmered like a bullet even in the starless, moonless English night.

As Gabriel and Porter loaded the luggage into the trunk, Gabriel couldn't help but wonder what this city held in store for them. Increasingly alarming was his sense of trepidation and fear. The conflict was so intense he could almost taste it, he could only pray that it wasn't directed towards the three of him.

At least he had possessed the sense to bring Porter along, he would provide some security, assuming that Mr. Darrant didn't have their best interests in mind. But as the sleek silvery car roared away from the airport, it's 220 horsepower grumbling softly, Gabriel dismissed such thoughts. He had every intention on placing his faith in Mr. Darrant, who in spite of Gabriel's dishonest approach, seemed perfectly cooperative and willing to assist.

Whether the Tremere Pontifex had plans for revenge or not, Gabriel was placing his trust in him.

[i:83a00c4bbc]"These Tremere are almost as posh as you blue bloods."[/i:83a00c4bbc] Porter growled, clearly uneasy at the delicate surroundings the interior of the Rolls had to offer. Even when clothed in designer suits, the Gangrel remained an impressive and slightly ferocious sight.

In Gabriel's lifespan, he had met few Kindred that made the type of lasting impression that the Scottish Gangrel had. Even though they had only known one another for a little over a year, the miniscule timeframe had proved enough for the Ventrue to grow a significant amount of respect for his companion. There was something to be said about a body that was unhindered by the trappings of social opinion. Despite his nomadic persona and unorthidox approach to problem solving, Porter had proved if nothing else highly effective.

If anyone else short of Gabriel's mentor Sorenti could hold claim to such a close relationship, undoubtably it was Kathy. Gabriel had long considered himself somewhat of a rock before she entered his life. The courtship had been brief, and in truth the Ventrue could not even recall all the details, simply a myriad of emotions washing over him. She encompassed everything he desired from his mortal life, and he wished nothing more than to spend eternity with her, exulting in her presence.

As the labyrinth of streets and structures gave way to more natural surroundings, the stark realization of the situation he was placing them both in returned to him. He felt fairly confident that Julius was no longer his enemy, and was even growing to be somewhat fond of Eveshka, but this was a dangerous pursuit.

With the lights of the city far out of view, even the lush greenery of the York countryside was cast an foreboding tint. As the gigantic maul of the forest enveloped them, the road grew increasingly rugged. Gabriel shut his eyes and wished he had never gotten involved in this ridiculous scroll business in the first place. He thought of Sorenti and of Drain, and of a much more secure time in his unlife. A time when he had firm allies of power, allies that protected him and paved the way for his success.

Finally the car cruised to a stop in front of a rather expansive manor, from out of which Julius Darrant emerged.

Eveshka had left, and Euryon was alone. He remained sat, on the grassy slope; lost in his own void. A special sort of thought the dead often mastered after so long; one could act, and one could think, but after the rise and fall of thirty genrations of men, there was always another way to pass time.

The perfection of nothingness. The art of allowing waking sleep without dreams, without memory, without any level of consciousness. An almost complete shutdown of the faculties; of course, being old and Gangrel, he could never truly allow himself to be vulnerable, but the inner ear would only hear threats, of which there appeared to be none.

As the minutes died into hours, the first blades of sun began pushing through the air, travelling their vast distances with the sole purpose of ending the watch of the dead, it seemed. The sun had lost some of its threat to Euryon; an enemy so immense to the new-dead, one that was the biggest murderer of his kind; but after so long, it had become something akin to an old friend... One that was always reliable, always there, always on time.

In its early, pathetic assault, it scratched and irritated the Gangrels skin, slight clouds of smoke beginning to rise from his leathery hide. Still, it would be a while before pain began, and then, if he chose, he could always push it back even further with his blood powers. It was a quiet victory he enjoyed; a sunrise was not a sight lost on Euryon, it was a lusted pleasure... A thing that few Cainites could witness.

He would watch this one, then he would awaken from his void, and rest.

And so he did, and was pleased with the sanguine light spreading its talons over the land. He rose from his position and walked into the shade of a nearby tree. The irritation subsided somewhat as the Sun continued its ascent, it was perhaps seven in the morning, and Euryon delved into the earth, and there he slept out the day.

The drive from the airport left Porter filled with a curious half-heartedness.

It wasn’t the fact that this was his first visit to Britain in over three hundred years. Nor was it the fact that the journey was over so quickly as to strip him of any chances of appreciating the scenery. The city itself was the exact opposite of those back “home”. He grumbled and sat back, deciding to focus on the coming reunion with Lady Eveshka. His grumbles brought looks of distaste from Kathy coupled by expressions of concern from his “ward”. Gabriel tried to appease him, making comments on the rolling landscape. Exactly the topic the Gangrel was trying to avoid.

As the car rolled to a halt he sat sulking in the rear passenger seat. Kathy practically falling over herself as she spotted Julius standing waiting for their arrival. She regained some composure as she left the steely confines of the Rolls, simply smiling as she waved to him.

Gabriel hid his unease well, Porter thought. He simply helped the driver with the luggage in the trunk, before joining Kathy at Julius’ side.

[i:dfea4b7c94]“How was the trip?”[/i:dfea4b7c94]

Julius smiled almost peevishly as he noticed the third member of the party step from the car.

[i:dfea4b7c94]“It was quite pleasant, Julius”[/i:dfea4b7c94] Kathy followed the line of his gaze, finding her eyes on Porter as the Gangrel fought with the suit.

[i:dfea4b7c94]“Oh forgive us. This is Porter. Porter? This is Mr Darrant.”[/i:dfea4b7c94]

Porter stepped up pawing at the collar of his shirt. Julius smiled broadly extending a hand.

[i:dfea4b7c94]“Pleased to meet you, Porter. Please, call me Julius.”[/i:dfea4b7c94]

Porter momentarily distracted from his attire’s irritations, looked up and gruffly nodded.

[i:dfea4b7c94]“Okay, now that the formalities are done. Can I [b:dfea4b7c94]please[/b:dfea4b7c94] get this thing off!?”[/i:dfea4b7c94] He growled insistently as Julius lowered his hand. Non-plussed at the strangers standoffishness .

[i:dfea4b7c94]“Please excuse our companion, Julius. He [b:dfea4b7c94]is[/b:dfea4b7c94] Gangrel after all.”[/i:dfea4b7c94] Gabriel risked being swatted across the gravel with his comment. But it seemed to ease the growing atmosphere within the gathering.

Kathy took his arm as Julius led the trio indoors. The driver struggling in behind them with their luggage.

As the oppressive doorway closed, the [i:dfea4b7c94]“civilised”[/i:dfea4b7c94] Kindred heard a curious sound echoing at their rear. Tearing cloth?

Kathy turned, her jaw agape as she saw the source. The two men turned as she let out a horrified gasp.

[i:dfea4b7c94]“Porter! No!”[/i:dfea4b7c94]

Porter stood, the suit hanging in tatters from his lithe frame. Barely covering his modesty, if he had any. He looked up grinning mischievously as Gabriel rubbed his temples. Kathy looked shell-shocked.

[i:dfea4b7c94]“Yes...very well done, Porter. You almost lasted a day this time.”[/i:dfea4b7c94] He sighed, leading Kathy away, trying to console the Toreador as she mouthed her disgust in whispers.

((This is my last IC post for a bit. Didn't want to describe the manor in case I got it wrong. And I wasn't sure how to "play" Julius so I kept it simple :) Take care everyone :D And keep up the good work!

Julius wished Eve were here. It would make things easier. She had gone out some time earlier, to stalk the city. Perhaps she wanted to visit the old places, to exorcise old demons, or for some kind of closure. Julius did know she wasn't happy here, to speak the truth neither was he. Forced once again in his unlife to follow necessity rather than preferred choice, he had brought her here. In this city they had both held court. The Toreador goddess looking down from her throne into a sex crazed palace of debauchery. In that maybe the ancient Setite had achieved some level of corruption. Club Purgatory had been not a haven of art, or music, but rather a hedonistic whirlpool of over indulged pleasures. Pleasures of which he himself had partaken and in overly large measure. He himself, the Merlin of Britain, as his former position was known, was in some ways equally guilty of self-indulgence. The great magician who granted whimsical wishes to anyone who would catch him in the right mood. This city had brought out best and the worst in each of them. Yet, here they were, once again, back in York and there was business which must be taken care of before they left.

Now though, he had a difficult choice to make. What to do about Gabriel, who had just arrived, accompanied by a scruffy gangrel, when Julius had specifically told him to come alone, barring Kathy. Was he now expected to reveal the secrets of Shal-Ka Mense to further kindred. Perhaps he should write up the entirety of his research, all the things that had happened and bind the whole in fine, gold embossed leather before presenting the thing to the Inner Council. It was clear that Gabriel thought this some kind of game, that he had no idea of the stakes involved. That simply knowing of the scroll's existance created a vibrant and immediate danger of death. He had brought himself into that danger, he had brought his lover, Kathy, into that danger and here was another friend, blindly following him.

Well, it was time. Time for Gabriel to learn the truth. Time for him to know the oceans of spilled blood, time for him to understand that death followed the scroll in it's wake. Whatever the scroll led to, the aim of finding it was to lay this all to rest. Personal gain of any kind was a secondary motivation, if indeed it was a motivation at all. Julius had suffered for the scroll, Eveshka had suffered for the scroll and now Gabriel would learn exactly who he was trifling with and be given the low down on why they sought to solve the mystery.

Julius led the group past the grand stair and into the large ballroom. The Italian marble floor had lost none of it's lustre during his absence and reflected the figures as they moved across the room. It was interesting to watch the reactions of the three guests. Gabriel, of Clan Ventrue acting nonchalant, as though such grandeur were a normal part of life. Kathy, of Clan Toreador, gasping in delight at the finely carved stone, the shimmering chandeliers and practically in awe of the great picture which graced the far wall. Finally, Porter, of Clan Gangrel, utterly unimpressed with such useless pomp. Then of course, was Julius. Julius of Clan Tremere, a mage of enormous power. Indeed, the picture which so enthralled Kathy depicted the sword of blood. The blade forged by Clan Tremere in antiquity, a dark blade, which would drain blood as it delivered wounds, passing the vitae to it's wielder. Indeed, this was the house of a mage and now that mage would be revealed in his full power.

Julius stopped. Standing at about the centre of the ballroom floor, he stopped and turned to Gabriel. For one in his position, the discipline of presence was a necessity and now he used it to it's fullest extent. The light from the chandelier above seemed to reflect from Julius' brow as his majesty captivated the three visting kindred. With a few whispered words a magical barrier appeared, enclosing both Julius and Gabriel in a circle of force, which glowed a dim yellow, bright sparks moving about it's surface. "Now, Gabriel." Began Julius, "It is time for you to learn... and learn you shall!" Julius eyes turned to meet Gabriel's and they were no longer the eyes of a vampire, but empty glowing orbs of fire.

Porter was the first to shake off the effects of Julius' majesty, but it was too late. He sprang at the magical barrier, his protean claws raking down the side. Where they touched, the yellow force shield glowed brightly and hummed, throwing sparks which pricked at his skin. Impotent, he sat back on his haunches, like a coiled spring, ready to lunge for Julius at the first opportunity. Kathy looked on in fear, fear for Gabriel and in turn, fear for herself. Gabriel himself was entranced by the flickering fires that filled Julius' eye sockets, entranced and ensorcelled as the lesson began.

In Gabriel's mind, the scene changed. The first thing to learn was the true nature of those with whom he trifled.

Gabriel, of the Assamite clan, crept through the underground car park. Darrant and that Toreador had been seen together once more, so he had been sent to investigate. The first thing would be to search Darrant's car. For such an important mission, with such a dangerous foe he, a skilled elder of the clan, secure in his power, had been sent. He picked the lock and used his quietus to deaden the sound of the alarm and searched the car, taking note of the little things which may be useful to his master's aims. It was a beautiful car and a shame to destroy it, yet fire would erase the evidence of his tampering and it would annoy Darrant. Gabriel lit the molotov and threw it toward the car. "Boy!" Came a voice from across the garage, "You in big trouble." It was Darrant and he could see through Gabriel's elder strength quietus and obfuscate as though he were a newly embraced fledgling. Gabriel flew through the air to impact upon the wall with a sickening thump, feeling bones breaking inside his body. Shackles of flame burnt into his arms and legs. Gabriel began to scream in pain, as a stake speared his heart and he fell to the floor.

Gabriel awoke in a room, upon a flat metal table. The air smelled vaguely of disinfectant, like a hospital perhaps. There was a bright light shining in his eyes, yes, a lamp for an operating table. He tried to move, but firm straps held him in place. He tried to use vitae to increase his strength, but felt drained, like all the blood had been poured out of him. It was then that the voices filtered into his consciousness.

"I'm very pleased to have this opportunity to demonstrate some of the aspects of kindred anatomy." Darrant's voice, thought Gabriel. "It's important to know that kindred, whilst sharing some mortal traits do go through a much wider change after their embrace than is often realised. The subject is a male Assamite Elder of an indeterminate, but good age. We shall start with the changes to the bone structure."

The bright light moved. Gabriel could now see around him. This was indeed an operating theatre. Darrant was in the position of the surgeon and surrounding him, as an enthralled audience were other kindred. Tremere apprentices, by the look of them. He could just about see as Darrant took up a scalpel and began to cut into his lower leg, drawing the knife in a straight line between ankle and knee, cutting through the flesh, the metal dragging along the hard surface of his shin bone. Gabriel began, once again to scream.

With the expertise of a surgeon, Darrant skillfully filleted Gabriel's lower leg, drawing the wet flesh away from the bone with exacting cadences of the flickering knife. He withdrew the bone, holding it in a gloved hand, leaving Gabriel's shin a limp mass of wet, red meat, lying impotent upon the table. "Observe now..." Darrant stopped, looking at the agonized screaming form of Gabriel writhing in pain upon the table. "Oh do shut up!" Darrant commanded. "I'm trying to give a lecture, I thought you Assamites knew how to be silent." With a gesture Gabriel's screams were silenced. His head continued to roll and his mouth continued to move, but now his screams were soundless. Polite laughter rolled around the room at Darrant's little joke. "As you can see," Darrant went on, "the bone structure is significantly reinforced, gaining strength without an increase in size. Who can tell me why this is?"

One of the apprentices said something about how mortal bones would break under the strain of blood strength maneuvers. Darrant congratulated his student and moved back to the subject under discussion. "Now we'll move on to the internal organs." He announced. Darrant looked at the shaking form of Gabriel on the table, casting a small spell to immobilize the torso. New definitions of pain were given to Gabriel as Julius opened up his chest and guts, vivisecting each organ, displaying and discussing with the Apprentices as though nothing more than a dead body lay for autopsy in a morgue. It seemed to go on for hours. Hours of excrutiation. Hours of untellable agony. All Gabriel could wish for was unconsciousness or death, both of which were denied him until finally, "And now we shall examine the brain." Gabriel heard the words with gladness, wishing for the swift knife to give him blessed release.

The scene changed back to the ballroom. Gabriel's body twitch with remembered pain and he fought to take his eyes from the burning flames which were Julius'. There was no release. Julius' glowing orbs burned into Gabriel's eyes and another scene flickered into the Ventrue's mind. The next lesson would be of the consequences to those who sought to meddle with the scroll and it's secrets.

Gabriel, a Toreador ghoul had been with his mistress for uncounted years. Like his mistress he was a Russian by birth and could scarcely remember a time when he had not served her. He was secure and happy, loving and loved by his mistress and today, the Boyarina was giving him a fencing lesson.

“A good fencer will be thinking at least three or four combinations ahead. This time…. Well didn’t get that far into it. You attacked like a Gangrel would Little One. The essence of the Toreador is finesse, grace, and above all, beauty. Think of it as a dance. Yes it is survival, but it is still an art.”

Eveshka stood up and held her hand out for Gabriel to grasp. “Let us try that again.”

Again they put on their masks and went to opposite ends of the strip. They saluted and assumed their en garde positions. Eveshka saw something move over Gabe’s right shoulder.

“DUCK!!!!,” she screamed.

Gabriel ducked and rolled, backflipping away from the assassin who now resisted all Eveshka's attempts to quell him with Majesty. Speaking in Russian, Eveshka told Gabriel what he should do. The assassin turned upon Gabriel with all of his speed and power. Gabriel felt a hot burning in the back of his leg as a curved blade hamstrung him and he fell to the floor. He looked up in time to see Eveshka summoning souls. All too late for Gabriel though, as the assassin's second blade bit deeply into his neck, severing head from body. The last thing Gabriel knew was the sight of the tears on the cheeks of his beloved mistress.

Once again the scene returned to the ballroom. Tears were now on Gabriel's cheeks as he felt Eveshka's loss of her beloved Maryushka. His thoughts turned to Kathy, whom he had involved in this thing. To lose her would be... But again, Julius' eyes burned into him and again the scene changed. The next lesson would perhaps be the most important of all.

And now Gabriel of Clan Toreador felt the weight of his years upon his shoulders. His soul in jeapoardy for all the sins of his long unlife. He was as a god of desire, handsome beyond compare, his visage enspelling hearts, taking and breaking them not out of spite or malice, but simply because of his nature. His charm and looks, coupled with his ephemeral nature made him what he was and sometimes he hated himself for it. Yet, in spite of all, there were a few who had seen past the outer beauty and within to the man that he was. One such was Julius. Throughout all they had been through together, Julius had always been fair with him, and he with Julius. Their relationship was built on mutual respect and now he knew that neither could imagine a world without the other in it. Even when they were apart, each knew they could call upon the other at need. There were no lies, no dishonesty, no half truths and no whispered rumours. That two from such violently different backgrounds could work so well together was a testament to the way they chose to treat each other. Without such, these two souls could scarcely have been in the same room, lest one destroy the other.

As the scene changed once again, to return to the ballroom in which the four kindred stood, the last lesson clear to Gabriel. The need for respect and that at times such respect must go beyond bounds of clan or the never ending jyhad so often spoken of.

Julius closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they had returned to normal. Gabriel stared at the floor, trying to gain some composure, trembling with remembered pain, both physical and mental.

"So what is it to be, Gabriel? Will you still play your silly games, or do you now see what you are playing with? Shall you come into our confidences, stop telling us your transparent lies and deal respectfully with us? Or shall I remove from your mind all memory of the events leading to this meeting? Or shall I simply turn you to ash where you stand? What will you have of me, Gabriel of Clan Ventrue? What shall it be?"

It had been over a day now since Eveshka had entered the ruins of Club Purgatory. Without sleeping or feeding she had haunted the darkened hallways hoping against hope for a sign of Kemintiri. This early evening she sat in a chair in the VIP balcony. She sat hunched over with her Dread Rapier drawn. With her left hand holding up her chin, she held the blade in her right hand and spun the point of the blade on the ground. An eerie [i:6d18bcb571] shing-shing-shing-shing [/i:6d18bcb571] echoed throughout the empty club as the blade spun. Suddenly she heard a door open down below. Could this be Kemintiri at last?

She reached out with her emotions and felt nothing. It was not Kemintiri, but who was it? She closed her eyes and sent out a psychic projection to have a look. It was an elder vampire. Dressed in black Special-Ops attire. Probably an assamite from the looks of the aura. He carried a sub-machine gun in a ready position. He moved fluidly. He looked almost like a dancer moving across the floor. Eveshka actually started to go into a bit of a rapture watching him move. She shook her head and cleared her thoughts. She stood up in the darkness and watched him walk along the side of the old cathedral walls. There were many reasons he could be here, but at this point, she really didn't care. She stood on the railing of the balcony and simply jumped off with a flip and landed silently on the floor below. She closed her eyes and, using max Majesty, simply walked out in the middle of the club.

"Why are you here?" her voice rang out like the thunderous voice of a goddess.

"Why do you disturb my quiet contemplation," the voice echoed, chilling the assamite to the core. Eveshka then activated Awe with all the potency that her methuselah vitae could grant.

The Assamite turned and walked towards her as docile as a puppy.

"Forgive the intrusion," he said, bowing deeply. "I was not aware that I would be disturbing one such as you."

Eveshka did not let up with her powers of presence. To this elder assamite, she appeared to be a glowing white angel, resplendant in all the perfection granted by Allah's beneficence.

"I was sent here to find a Ventrue named Michelle St. Claire."

"For what purpose," rang Eveshka's supernatural voice.

"To bring her before my master, Ali. To what end, i do not know."

Ali? That name again. The momentary perplexity on Eve's part caused a dip in her concentration. The Assamite freed himself of her power. He started to move with blinding speed, but not fast enough. Eveshka was already in motion. Spinning around, she ripped the sub machine gun out of his hand with one motion and severed his right arm with the follow through. The Assamite screamed in pain for a moment and then recovered himself. He started to draw a scimitar with his left hand. He only got it drawn part way before the Toreador Methuselah's rapier severed his left arm as well. He looked at her in open astonishment. With a back swing she plunged her rapier into his unbeating heart and sent him into Torpor.

Eveshka was shaking as was usual when she engaged in combat. However well she could handle herself in a melee did not detract from the fact that at heart she was a Toreador and loved things of beauty and sensuality. She phoned Julius who informed her that Gabriel, Kathy, and Porter were at the manor. She asked that a car be sent to Club Purgatory for her.

Twenty minutes later Eveshka walked into the midst of the four vampires dragging a torpored and armless Assamite. Gabriel looked completely shocked and involuntarily impressed. With his auspex he could tell that this was a very powerful Assamite that the helpless looking Toreador had trounced. She simply stalked past the group and headed towards Julius' lab. Julius excused himself and followed her. He said the incantations which rendered safe the security measures guarding the room. They lay the Assamite on the examining slab. They briefly spoke about what happened as Julius rammed a stake in the Assamite's heart.

"He mentioned his Master. Ali," said Eve.

Julius looked up at that name. "Ali?"

Eveshka nodded. "He sent this man to find Michelle."

It was Julius' turn to nod.

"I need a drink Julius," said Eveshka who walked out of the room looking straight down at her feet. Julius watched her go feeling a pang of anxiety. She was deep in thought again he saw. Bad things usually happened when she was deep in thought.

Eveshka walked back down into the room where Julius' guests sat. She was still dressed in her black spandex and was still armed with her rapier and main gauche slung to her back. Porter watched her move and took special care to notice the blades which he had seen her use on a few occasions back in Cascadia. "I see the kitten has even sharper claws," said Porter as he stood up and walked over to her. Gabe and Kathy watched with unease as the two embraced like old friends. First Julius does a major magic show with Gabriel, then this Toreador Prince saunters in dragging an Assamite elder much like a cat would carry in a mouse to show off. On top of this, Porter, his muscle, has just embraced her like a long lost sister. This was not going as he had hoped.

(( i think i need a creative writiing class even to compete at this level guys.. this is very good stuff..I even read the long ones...(( ok,, i only read the last 3 pages and the first 2 but i am very entertained.))

The throbbing only intensified in the silence, and for that Gabriel was thankful. Thankful for its' service as a distraction from the painful and intense images he had experienced. The ache in his knees that he had received as he dropped to the floor only added in the diversion. Small favors, he supposed.

[i:2fb6d8376c]"What will it be?"[/i:2fb6d8376c] the question filled the Ventrue with dread. Julius had grown tired of games that Gabriel was unaware of playing. Behind the Pontifex's shimmering eyes laid unbridled rage, and undoubtably he had the ability to back it up.

The bloody, painful history of the scroll, and more interestingly, Eveshka had been revealed to him in a most abrupt manor. Whatever resentments or ill feelings Gabriel might have normally harbored against Julius for such a brutish display were temporarily washed away in the agonizing pain of stark truth.

At first he only groaned in response to the question. He wavered for a moment, swaying back and forth from his knees, his blood soaked face drawn back in a sickened scowl. Darrant stood waiting, tenticles of energy leaping from his eyes.

[i:2fb6d8376c]"I see now..."[/i:2fb6d8376c] his voice was broken and strained, it sounded his years. As if two centuries of pride and arrogance had at last been shattered, and Gabriel had lost part of himself. Faintly he heard Kathy's sob amidst the crackle of the orb. Even had she been by his side, Gabriel could not have faced her. Out of shame...out of humiliation.

His answer seemed sufficient as Darrant allowed the energy field to drop and he found himself pressed against the cold floor of the ballroom. Muscles cried out as he made his way shakily to his knees. His head was foggy, and his surroundings blurred together.

[i:2fb6d8376c]"Perhaps now,"[/i:2fb6d8376c] Julius said, approaching him, [i:2fb6d8376c]"we will be able to make some type of progress."[/i:2fb6d8376c] He helped the weakened Ventrue to his feet before taking his place in front of the trio.

Little was said in the brief span of time that elapsed before Eveshka arrived, a beaten Assamite in tow. Gabriel was genuinly shocked, as he could sense the Assamite's strength immediately. The Toreador must've truly been potent. As Julius and Eveshka retreated to the backroom, Gabriel turned to Porter and Kathy.

[i:2fb6d8376c]"You have to leave."[/i:2fb6d8376c] he said dryly, still trying to conquer the pain that tore his cerebellum to shreds. Kathy opened her mouth to protest, but Gabriel motioned for her silence. [i:2fb6d8376c]"If you stay, I'll die."[/i:2fb6d8376c]

It was perhaps a slight exaggeration, but her safety was certainly at risk. Porter growled softly, a bit reserved for once.

[i:2fb6d8376c]"You too Porter...I can't explain now...but please take Kathy back to Cascadia and watch over her until I can join you."[/i:2fb6d8376c]

He took a moment to quell their fears before wishing them well. As the two took their leave, somewhat perplexed, Gabriel leaned against one of the ballroom's chairs, exhausted.

((sorry, i'm a bit drunk, and it's difficult to write.