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Choices (AJ)

Jeremy — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 17:41:21 GMT

The heat of the night was intense with the added moisture in the air. Everywhere he looked he could see mortals walking with their heads hanging low and breathing heavier than normal because of the sweltering heat of the night. A.J. had remained unaffected though he had to fake being just as miserable as the rest of the mortals.

It had proven to be a bit difficult for him to do so due to having so much on his mind.
In one night he had found out what exactly was Roland�s problem with him and been visited by a former Justicar that was now on the Red List. It was a lot to take in. It all had his mind swimming. Part of him was conflicted by the opportunity to learn from a Gangrel that had achieved so much and another part of him wanted to go off and kill Marzanna for letting loose a hit man on him. The truth was though, if he did go and kill her, it would be the end of his opportunity and the end of his existence.

Xavier had said that A.J. would have to make right any unchivalrous acts he had done before they could begin his teachings. He wondered if the hug he had given Marzanna was an unchivalrous act though. Was it so bad? After all it was just a hug, nothing malicious meant by it. He frowned as he thought about it. He knew at the end of the day, no matter how innocent it was supposed to be, she didn�t want the hug and that was what made it out to be a problem.

The more he thought about the situation he couldn�t even remain mad at Marzanna. She had told him she didn�t like being touched. It was him that forgot that fact and hugged her. In the end, he knew he was going to have to make amends with her. He pulled out his phone and brought up the notepad on it. He put Marzanna�s name on the list and added, apologize to her.

He looked at the list: Kendov, Mackenzie, Corin, Marzanna, and the family of the woman he�d killed, Emma. The list was short, but it was important. He couldn�t think of anyone else that he�d wronged in an unchivalrous way. He knew the majority of the list was his family and friends, and those would be the hardest to make amends with.

What a month

Luke H — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 16:03:58 GMT

He set the quill down, his final notes for the month set in history. *It had been a busy month and August was shaping up to be even more...adventurous. *He pulled out his phone, taking down a number on a piece of paper, time to update the contact list for when everything hits the fan. *He pulls out a little red book, filling in some informations.

Nikki (wolf) choice maker, no number
Donavan (beta wolf) *555-7890
Tala (Tainted wolf) 555-7890
Claudia (Follower hunting wolf) 555-7890
Samara (uptight wolf) 555-7890
Tom (true Mage) no number
Girl (frying pan master) no number, listen to the bells
Egyptian lady. (unknown as of yet) No number

Closing the address book, he pulls out a small square box. *Carefully opening it he removes the scroll, carefully placing it on the table. *He let's the two tubes role apart, revealing a timeline of events. *The strange dream about the tapestry, the night he just drove because he felt like it and the finding of the tapestry, the meeting and decision by the garou, mages, vampires, changelings and her, the unknown one.
The talk with Claudia that lead to the discussion on the followers of set, the rough location of the local carn, the discovery of a carn in Kansas City, the drive home and discovering of Manny, the death of Laz, by his own hand, the death of Malcolm, the eruption of him from all the Malkavians... *He looked it over, trying to place it all in the proper order, to find the pattern that would lead him the the discovery or what he was doing here.*
Shaking his head, he roles the tubs back up, placing them back in the box, he tucks it away, placing it on it's cubbyhole hole, hidden from most.

Ha gets up and moves into the study. *He pulls out his check ledger and starts paying bills for the last part of the construction. *The crews were working hard and being paid for it as well, and he hoped that everything would be ready by September. *He tossed the sealed envelops down on the table as he passed by, something was coming he could feel it, soon he would have to start taking actions he didn't want to and he knew it. *He grabbed the keys to the truck in his way out the door. *Some in the city had seen a small part of what he was capable of, he wondered what they all though about it. *He backed out of the drive, stopped in the road trying to decide what direction to take now. *North is to much of the past, south is a war brewing, west is apparently the garou nation as well as the other supernaturals people fear,*East looked to be the only safe way at this point.
He smiled as he pointed the truck East. Something was waiting for him out there, and he was going to enjoy every minute he could before the storm hit.

Monkey on my back

Pipeo Fukov — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 10:12:31 GMT

Alden quickly left the meeting with the elders before things got too far out-of-hand with his constant unwanted guest. She always made things more complicated when he was trying to make some connections. Her ranting would often drown out what was being said, causing him to lose track of the conversation.

Knowing he had to leave before anyone really caught on, Alden used the excuse of finding a haven. Pitiful as it was, he had to say something or completely embarrass himself in front of his superiors.

Looking around to insure his corporeal solitude, Alden wheeled on the voice. "Damn you woman! No one can hear either of us here! Will you be silent!" This did little to quell the verbal assault. He could only imagine how he sounded to the others. Crazed as a Madman, they would say. Better to be thought mad than the alternative.

After taking several different passages, Alden found his Haven. Barring the door behind him, he began removing his uniform. He had taken much time in preparing for this meeting and perhaps that was why she decided to lash out. Hopefully no one was terribly offended at his sudden departure.

It took most of the rest of the evening for her to lapse in to moody silence, but silence it was. Alden took advantage of this to review what he learned. Calhoun held the power in the clan, no mistake. The skittish one, Peyton, seemed concerned for Calhoun when he was mentioned.

Peyton reminded him of his sister, Lynn, before she changed. The flood of memories safely tucked away overwhelmed him, and he wept.

Finally Free From You (TOTM Corin)

Lauren Nichol — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 05:55:58 GMT

"I'll come back...I promise."

The words rolled off of Corin's tongue as she spoke to Christina, but she didn't know if she would. She now flew over a new city, looking hard for a specific house. Once she spots it she lands on a tree and watches it carefully...the images of the past week returning to her.

~~~~~

It started with a text from Maharet I need your help. Please meet me at ______ and of course she had to go. She learned from Eamon what was going on, then finally it happened, the fight that changed her life. She was fighting against a man who somehow was able to invade her mind...images of her worst nightmare coming to life before her eyes. She saw a blade moving quickly, and striking down her sire. "HORACIO!" She swings at the man giving her these images but misses. "NO!"

She continues to lunge at the man, finally striking him with her claws, the ear piercing scream of his snapping her back to reality enough that she was able to will herself back. She watches the room, and see's it...Chris torn up. Her instinct telling her to run to his side and to aid him, but she knew that she would have to end the man in front of her first.

Finally the man she continues to claw goes down and she moves to Chris' side. She gives him a flask with blood and watches as he drinks it, begging him to heal. It was then that she realized what had been meant by "those things dear to you". She quickly got up and left.

~~~~~

The next night he meets her at the hotel, she had called him to meet her.

"Chris, I like you...a lot. I won't be able to persue a relationship with you...Maharet is not the only one being blackmailed...I can't think of what could happen to you if someone got mad at me."

He looks at her shocked, but nods "I understand." She leans in and kisses him, for the first time, and very possibly the last. When she pulls away from him a single tear trickles down her cheek. He grabs her in a tight embrace.

"You mean so much to me Chris...I would give my life for yours...but I can't have people hurting you to get to me. As much as I want to be with you...."

He hugs her again, then darts out the door telling her he does not want to cause her any more pain. She falls to her knees and cries into her hands.

~~~~~

She is with Christina teaching her how to use her new powers. They are in the basement of the hotel, a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

"Go over to that bag and punch it."

Christina nods a little and punhes it as hard as she would have as a human not really putting oomf into it.

"Harder."

Christina nods and takes a breath hitting it as hard as she can

"Harder! You see that bag? That's the person who fucked up your life! That is the man who made you run away from home. What are you going to do? Just push him around? Come on now. FUCK HIM UP!"

Christina nods and thinks of the man who ambushed her and things about her life then as she pulls back her hand her mind snaps and she lets her hand fly as hard ad she can "BASTARD" she cries as her claws extend and she tears the bag up.

Corin walks and stands in front of Christina and holds her.

"It's okay. He can't hurt you anymore. He will never touch you again."

Christina says his name over and over again as Corin pulls her closer. After Christina calms Corin starts to teach her how to dumb down her wounds, she balls up her fist.

"I'm going to hit you Christina. Forgive me."

She punches Christina, leaving a little bit of bashing damage.

"It's okay Corin...I'm used to it."

Corin growls.

~~~~~

Corin sits perched on the tree, watching the house, a car pulls up and a man steps out. She narrows her eyes and watches the man, using her powers to look at the name on his name-tag. She watches as he goes into the house and closes the door.

Flying off into an alley way she shifts into her natural form, after she makes sure there is no one around to see her. She walks up to the door, and checks it, it's unlocked so she walks into the house. Once inside she looks around, seeing no one she smiles and obfuscates.

The man comes around the corner and Corin grabs him from behind, squeezing his throat.

"Who else is here?"
"No one...I'm alone."
"Too bad for you."

She shoves him up against the wall, her hand still squeezing his throat, and lifts him about a foot off the ground. She wanted to make him suffer...suffer the way he made Christina suffer. Then something in her snaps as she drops him to the floor, then knocks him out.

She looks at the man laying on the floor, not seeing the man who had beaten Christina, but the man who really caused her all the pain she was feeling...Cocteau.

She thinks back to the nightmare from when she was fighting the anarchs, she realized it was not Walkers blade killing Horacio in her nightmare, but Cocteau's. It was not some random man threatening Chris, but Cocteau. It was not the step-father that had beaten Christina, but Cocteau. He was behind it all...all the pain in her life since Horacio went to Springfield.

"You will never hurt me again! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

She leans over the man and looks at him.

"DIE COCTEAU!"

~~~~~

She's sitting back in the hotel room the next night, looking at the blood on her hands. Christina comes in and runs over to Corin's side. Corin looks up and smiles at her.

"Don't worry. He will never be able to hurt either of us again."

Not what I wanted to learn

Mario — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 05:30:08 GMT

Pius walks into the ritual room of the Chantry to with a jar of blood in his hand. Moving to his table he sets the jar on the table and collects the rest of the items he needs.

"I don't understand how there are so many newly embraced kindred in this city. These sire's are nothing but animals. Embracing these helpless mortals to a life of pain and fear. Then they don't even teach them. No guidence or love given. You have created something, you should care for it and watch it grow."

He shakes his head and begins to chant as he pours the blood out of the jar into a bowl. The runes on the table start to pulse a golden color as the images appear in Pius' head.

"An attractive young hispanic woman with dark hair and a slim figure. her name is Rosa and she is 9 steps removed from Caine."

the next image, "An older man, gray hair and beard, this beard is braided in one string. His face looks like leather. His name is Donald and he is 10 steps removed from Caine."

"24 years old in appearance, a little heavy set women, with wild raven feather hair. Her name is Tyler Jameson. She is 11 steps removed from Caine."

"about 35 years old in appearence, dirty clothes and face. Seems to only live in the wilds. His name is Larry Gould and he is 12 steps removed from Caine."

Pius stops chanting as his eyes open and a sense of shock hits him. A THIN BLOOD. A child of 14th Generation. He looks to his papers and then to his cross.

"And you will know these last time by the Time of Thin Blood, which will mark Vampire that can not beget Vampires. It is another sign. One more step, one more trigger for the end times. This one must be watched and his Sire found. I have questions for him."

Pius closes his eyes, bows his head and begins to pray.

Another Night, Another Problem

juno2k — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 02:49:57 GMT

�amon sits in one of his new libraries, at the desk. He scribbles away in his notebook at remarkable speed, in that same forgotten language as the other pages.

Twenty-eighth July the Year of our Lord Two-Thousand Ten, 28.07.10

Another Night, Another problem surfaces thanks to Ms. De Erros. While she is starting to display remarkable potential it appears that trouble finds her at every turn. She is becoming more of a liability with each passing evening. I find myself wondering if the trouble outweighs the benefits of her existence. Monday evening I was at the mansion double checking to ensure that everything had been moved. As I went to leave Ms. De Erros showed up and mentioned that she had yet another problem.

At this point I have come to expect problems from her and have begun to look for ways to keep the damage that they can cause to the Clan, minimal. This problem however has the potential to cause a problem larger than just the clan. Apparently she was contacted by an Anarch who claims to have photographs of Ms. De Erros in the process of feeding and he is attempting to black mail her with said photographs. That speaks for itself as to why it is a larger problem for us all.

However, it is also a problem for Ms. De Erros specifically as these photographs could potentially expose her rarefied tastes. This poses a larger problem for her directly. If anyone were to find out about her tastes it would give them a very powerful weapon against her. On one hand I am tempted to leave this situation for her to deal with herself as if she fails it could possibly alleviate the headache that she consistently causes. On the other hand, if she fails it could lead the unfortunate end of us all.

I agreed to help her with the issue as she informed me that a meeting had already been set with said Anarch and she was to meet him there at the mansion by herself in just over an hour from that moment. Having known some Anarchs before they were Anarchs and knowing the games played by kindred I advised her that the chances of him appearing alone were slim at best. I asked whom she could contact to assist in containment with the issue was she and I would be hard pressed to take multiple foes.

She proceeded to contact Three individuals, two of whom came to her aid. Ms. O'Rothlain and Mr. Slade came to her aid and we formulated a plan of attack if you will. While the plan was hastily drawn it was effective for the most part. The rest of us hid amongst the first floor rooms of the mansion, with the aid of Corin, while Ms. De Erros answered the door when he arrived. Upon seeing that he failed to come alone Ms. De Erros fled into the mansion. He proceeded to declare that she was dead and then Five anarchs entered the mansion with weapons drawn under the orders of the one they called Mister G, who stayed outside. It appears that the Anarchs sent a small contingent of moderately organized individuals to take Ms. De Erros out of the picture permanently.

As the last of the five entered the trap was sprung. We were to fight for the domain the Anarchs sought to defile. Corin quickly shut and locked the door and pounced on one of the two stragglers, Mr. Slade pistol whipped the second. The other three however followed Ms. De Erros into the parlor where I was waiting just inside the entry way. While Ms. De Erros was safe on the other side of the room for the moment, I sprung from my hiding place and using all the Strength I could muster slashed the closest one with my sword. And Ms. De Erros well, she actually managed to shoot the one with claws which just pushed him into a frenzy of rage.

The one Corin attacked just stared at her then all of a sudden she just collapsed yelling about someone named Horacio. I will have to ask her about that later. The one Mr. Slade attacked turned and began beating him with a chain while the one Ms. De Erros shot let loose upon her. The One I slashed proved to be too slow to even land a hit. Corin Continued to struggle with the one in front of her, Mr. Slade got pummeled by the one he hit and Ms. De Erros continued to try and shoot the clawed one.

As the fight progressed I eliminated the two in the parlor who were not focused on Ms. De Erros. I found myself beginning to lust after combat again, while the others struggled with their current targets. Unfortunatly Mr. Slade was not up to the task and he fell to the ground. The one that he hit then thought it a brilliant idea to attempt to run across the parlor to reach Ms. De Erros only to meet my blade in the process. He too fell like his two companions. As he fell Mr. Slade mustered the strength to stand and take a shot at the clawed one, which proved only to divert his rage from Ms. De Erros to Mr. Slade. Corin continued to struggle with the one by the door who was quite intent on trying to make her do what he said.

As the clawed one attempted to make his way to the gravely injured Mr. Slade he proved to be too slow to make it past myself. I attacked him with all the speed and strength I could muster and he fell just as Corin landed the final blow to the one who insisted on trying to make her do things.

Were there mistakes made most certainly.
1. We were ill prepared.
2. The others proved less combat capable than they would have thought.
3. The Anarchs picked the wrong place to pick a fight.
4. The Anarchs failed to find out who Ms. De Erros knew before they picked her as their mark.
5. The leader of the Anarchs managed to get away, running like a scared child.

What can be learned from this fiasco? Many things, First as I advised the others before we cleaned up the mess. Ms. De Erros and Mr. Slade need more combat training which I will provide if they ask. Corin needs a weapon other than her claws, I will have to contact Droz to check the status of the item I commissioned. I learned�..

That no matter how much one attempts to distance themselves from the far distant past you can never escape it. It had been nearly a millennium since I have chosen to fight with the steel, I had chosen to use words instead, yet it came back to me as if it were only yesterday. As I did all those days past, I began to take pleasure in the fight.

With the assistance of Corin the immobile bodies were moved to the garage and staked so that I could load them at my leisure and relocate them to a safe secluded location until such time as a determination can be made about what we should do with them.
May the Lord have mercy upon my soul and may his eternal light guide me down the path to my destiny.

Note to self: Go purchase Six, One foot One inch Diameter Dowels and sharpen them to a point.

�amon places the quill inside the notebook as he closes it and sets it aside. He sits and reflects on the events at the mansion before grabbing his keys and wallet from the desk.

Behind Enemy Lines Pt 2

WillV — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 23:27:17 GMT

(Graphic Violence, Language)
(Music: YouTube - White Zombie- I am Legend)

Sometime before Midnight, Early 2010, Detroit

He can remember her face- His savior and teacher. Smooth, tanned skin. Long black hair obscuring some of her face. She holds him close. He can feel her body heat- she seems more alive to him than any human he's ever held. He can feel a pulse between them- It feels like a long, slow drumbeat. He wants to say something. Their bodies entangled, skin on skin; all he can do is hold her. He isn't afraid, even though he will be leaving soon. But he can already feel a longing in his heart, even before he says goodbye. She brushes aside enough of her hair so he can see into her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak.

Early Morning, 7/23/10

Jack can hear the cowboy's footsteps on the floor in the hall.

"You're in my territory now, boy." He says, laughing. "And all you got's a scatta-gun." The cowboy calls out. Jack smirks.

"I've got more than that, Cowboy Curtis." He says loud enough for the man to hear. He kicks the door in hard and dashes through, blasting away with the shotgun again. The cowboy spins with the shot, avoiding most of the pellets. The few that strike him seem to do nothing. Jack dashes away in the corridor, but he can feel the Gangrel catching up, quickly. He reaches in his jacket and pulls out a stake. He immediately turns and hurls it. It bounces harmlessly off the man's chest.

'Damn.' Jack thinks, as the man stops, laughing. "What the fuck did you think was gonna happen, you prick?" He says, raising a clawed hand to strike at Jack. His movements are becoming sluggish and predictable. Jack feels his body doing the same, though not as bad. Jack manages a grin, as he easily steps back from the strike. He backpedals slowly. The man advances slowly.

"You think you can kill me before the sun comes up, shithead?" Jack snarls out, grinning. The Cowboy laughs.

"I ain't gotta. Where do you think you are, son? This is my pack's stompin' grounds. I can wait it out, but you ain't gonna walk outta here alive come nightfall." He says in low measured tones. The two men continue to backpedal, before stumbling into a wide open area. It looks to have once been a living room, but it's now fortified and covered. Jack bumps into a wooden pillar and grunts. The Cowboy pulls a large aluminum shutter down behind him.

"You in my house, boy. It's gonna be a long day." He says.

Jack laughs. "What's so funny?" The Cowboy asks.

Jack continues laughing. he feels his way backwards to a wall and slumps. "You think -he- won't find this place? I saw the look on your face when you saw him rip up your little buddy." Jack says, with a grin.

There is no reply from the Cowboy, save for his eyes shining a sickly red.

Mid- Morning, 7/23/10

"We're gonna beat you down, and I'm gonna reclaim the blood what'chore sire gave you, son." The cowboy says from his position across the room. Jack can see the red pinpricks of light from the Gangrel's eyes. He can make out slight details of the room. Jack pulls out a plain looking knife and spins it end over end, staring at the eyes. "You already hurt, son. Just relax and I'll make sure it's quick, Ok?" He continues.

Jack shakes his head again, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. "You gonna do me a favor by offing me quick? You better hope I don't get the chance, cause I'm making it nice and painful for you." Jack says quietly.

The gangrel slowly advances. Jack Lifts his shotgun.

"Think I'll miss with those pretty little eyes glowin' at me?" He says, grinning. "Cause I think it's harder for you to get all the way over here to tickle me, you inbred piece of shit." Jack groans slightly, shifting his weight to one side. The red eyes fade out.

"Now where am I, prettyboy?" The cowboy calls out. Jack lifts the shotgun and fires. The recoil nearly throws it out of his hand. The cowboy screams.

"Right there." Jack says nonchalantly, with a laugh. A moment later, the laugh is echoed by the Cowboy.

Afternoon, 7/23/10

"Why don't I Join the Sabbat?" Jack asks in reply to the cowboy's question. He answers it after a moment. "Because I've seen the way you work. I know I'm close to my beast, but I don't revel in it." He rationalizes, his voice weak.

"Not yet." the cowboy replies, his voice tinged with malice. "You think even if you do kill me, you gonna make it outta town?" He asks.

"Right now I'm not worried about it." Jack responds. He removes the knife from his jacket and sets it down next to him with a quiet thunk.

"What're you doin' over there?" The cowboy asks, irritation apparent in his tone. He moves closer.

"I'm getting my knife out so i can cut you and drain you dry without touching my mouth to you.You know... Growing boy's gotta eat, right?" Jack says. He grins and waits for a response.

The cowboy chuckles quietly. "You can try it. But Caine watches over me. Makes me strong." He responds.

Jack rolls his eyes and speaks, venom filling his words. "Again with that shit? Don't you get it? Caine's not here. He's not giving you anything 'cept the blood you have in your veins. You're not 'blessed', and worshipping a fucking farmer-" He is interrupted as something large and heavy flies his way. It smashes against the wall next to him and shatters. Splinters of wood rain down on him.

"Still think he ain't here? He's in all of us, errand boy." The cowboy responds.

Late Afternoon, 7/23/10

"You know, Maybe we won't drain you. Maybe we'll just keep you staked and let you watch as he drain your friend." The cowboy whispers.

The room is thankfully still pitch black. No sign of sunlight at all. Outside, Jack can hear a car drive by booming bass. He grins, admiring the shutter and walls, barely able to see due to his heightened senses. He decides to speak to the Cowboy again. "Nice place you got here. Maybe after we're done with you and your pack, we'll make it a vacation home."

Early Evening, 7/23/10

"It's almost showtime, boy." The cowboy croaks from somewhere in the room. Jack is feeling the night quickly approaching. In an hour or two it'll be nightfall, he can tell.

Jack sits up, no longer slouching. He sifts through the wooden pile of debris around him, feeling for his knife. "Yup." He responds, quietly.

"You scared yet?" The cowboy asks.

"Yup. Scared i won't be able to get your blood offa my clothes."

They both laugh quietly.

"Christopher." The cowboy says.

"Jack." The Brujah responds.

"Where ya from, Jack?" Christopher asks.

"Detroit." Jack says.

"No shit?" Christopher asks again, surprise obvious in his voice. Jack parrots his question as an answer, deadpan.

"How'd that go?" Christopher follows up.

"How'd you think? I'm here now. You chucklefucks made it kinda hard to live up there. It's all good though. I've seen more here in two months than i did ten years up there. Even though it was a war zone." Jack reminisces. He slides down the wall slightly, slowly as he talks. "Heh... I remember getting chased out of a dive in Detroit because I pissed off another Brujah. Guy threw me a beating with a pool cue." He laughs. "Two days later, we found out he was an infiltrator. They offered me the right to 'do the honors' with a pool cue. I passed on it, too. Wouldn't have dreamed of killing him, you know? Things changed fast." Jack muses, taking in the sight of debris all around him.

"It ain't been all peaches and cream for me neither, Jacky." Christopher says. "I got clanged three years ago in Dallas. They used me for sport, threw me in the pit with ghouls. Not just fresh off the street ghouls, Jacky. Old ones. Real old. And shit howdy they wanted the blood, bad." He continues, clearing his throat briefly. "They'd starve us for a week or two, then throw us in. I ended up bein' the last man standin'." Jack nods, quietly. Christopher continues. "Then she came to me. So fuckin' beautiful. Her eyes were blacker'n oil, you know? And she told me Caine wanted me to become more than i was. She killed every one of 'em. Let me eat one of 'em too. Said they was Sabbat, but they wasn't doin' nothin for the cause. Taught me how i could be somethin' more."

Jack sighs. His story shared parallels for sure. Two sides of a coin. Jack hated him all the more for that similarity.

"Showtime"7/23/10

The haze of daytime snaps clear for Jack. He has a few moments to react. He grasps his knife and tucks it into his sleeve.

"You ready, JACKY?" The Gangrel roars, charging.

Jack hears boots stomping towards him. What little blood he has left awakens his muscles. He flicks his eyes open and shifts his body slightly. Christopher's clawed hand comes into view. It swipes viciously and nearly takes Jack's head off. A massive, brutal swath tears across his face in a jagged diagonal path. He screams, as Christopher descends. The Gangrel is snarling in contempt, in victory.

He gasps and goes silent. Jack's left hand holding a large, jagged sliver of wood as if it were a spear. It holds fast, in the Gangrel's chest.

"I'm getting better at this staking thing, ain't I, Cowboy Curtis?" He asks, his nose hanging by a thread of cartilage.

Jack barely manages to stand, sliding himself back up against the wall. He shifts his weight to let the Gangrel fall against him.

"Caine isn't here for you Christopher. And if he ever was, and he decided to give that blood to you? I'm taking it." He says. He quickly produces the knife and punctures the Gangrel's throat with a neat 'pop'.

There is no indication of any agony- Christopher's face is frozen in a mask of rage, eyes glassy.

Jack squeezes the wound tight, and greedily laps at the blood. Coercing the wound is too slow- he dives in with fangs out; sucking away his life essence. To Jack, this Sabbat Neonate is his sire. He is the man that changed him from partying drug dealing blood doll to an unstable wreck of a murderer. In Jack's mind, he could keep blaming his sire, blaming the 'bad blood'.

He can feel it- his beast is somewhere between the two of them, clawing at the Sabbat soul. Jack exalts in the moment. He wants it. He hesitates, pulling away, screaming in anger. Before he can change his mind, he lifts the shotgun to the Gangrel's chin, pressing steel against soft, cold flesh. Both barrels blaze. The door slides open, lights turn on.

Jack screams at the light, blinding him as he had been adjusted to seeing in the dark.

A teenage girl's voice cuts through the blindness. 'Their packleader.' Jack realizes.

"You cammie SHIT!" He can hear her footsteps approaching.

"Calm down!" Jack says, donning a grin over bloodstained lips. "I can replace the furniture!" He cackles like a madman as the footsteps come closer and closer. She screams at him.

He laughs louder. He has won- He drops the Gangrel's headless corpse along with the shotgun.

He fills his mind with the image of his sire to comfort him as he knows he will die.

"Do what you can. Find your purpose, Jack. Be strong enough to know when to change." She says, their bodies intertwined. Jack silences her with a kiss. Her warmth calls out to his beast, but he staves off the hunger. He holds her close, exalted by pleasure and simultaneously frightened at the prospect of losing her. She makes him feel more than kindred, more than human. She makes him feel like he is something else entirely.

Destroyed (Sunday Night, 7-25-2010)

Banshee — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 12:56:36 GMT

YouTube - Our Farewell - Within Temptation - Lyrics

Marzanna thrashes in the 4 poster bed her broken, battered body lies in. She is covered from head to toe with scratches and cuts, her left arm lies broken across her stomach, her legs both broken and useless. Her face is a mask of fear even though she sleeps, crying out softly, over and over, "No, no, please god, no." In her nightmare, she is reliving the little she remembers.

"She came home, after hanging out with Mackenzie, some girl time. She had just stepped into the living room area, kissed him in greeting when ALL hell broke loose. Furniture exploding around her. She had begun to take a defensive stance when he screamed, "Marzanna run, go, get out, RUN!" The tone of his voice made her turn and use her speed to try to get out of the haven, part way up the shaft, the world went black."

Marzanna sits bolt up right in the bed, a feral scream of fear, panic, escaping her lips, her good arm reaching out for someone who is no longer there. Within seconds of her scream, Jack is there. He talks softly, telling her it's okay and she is safe. Her body trembles violently as pain arcs throughout, from her sudden movement, tears staining her cheeks red as she sobs quietly, afraid to move. He moves to her side, gently laying her back on the pillows, before carefully, taking her into his arms, whispering to her to let it out. She looks up at him, staring into his eyes, hers filled with anguish. She whispers to him, "Oh god, Jack, he's....he...he's gone, isn't he?" He frowns, stroking her hair, whispering yes. Her sobs become louder, her small frame shaking from them. In her mind, "I don't want to live, everything I had is gone, destroyed. Except for a couple close friends, and I could be putting them in danger, just being alive. How am I going to make it through this? And the most important question....Do I even WANT to?

WHEN THE HUNTER BECOME THE HUNTED(premise)

maharet erros — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 08:39:21 GMT

BLACK MAIL ME FUCKER! what does that anarch think he is any way.I`M NOT A PLAY TOY ! she told them as they entered a place that had been her home since comming to lamar.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WcwO0VS9FVo
How dare he think she was even comming out ,she wasnot that stupid,she was tought better than that you never give the enemy the advantage If you can help it .Fuck that he`ll never get me with out a fight she said.

But when push came to shove they had been there for her and that she would never forget even her primy had been there when she neded him .

And corin who was there for her when she was told of her beloved Jaysin`s death by lady Maddalena like that day corin was there to aide her once again , taking a blow that made maharet ferious at herself for puttin corin in harms`sway hearing her screamming HERICIO`s name And seeing her holding her head in her hands only fueled her anger .

And then the crack and thud of seeing Chris her confadant and close alli take such a horid beating made her fume with more anger that she had not resolved how dare that basterd hurt her friends ones that she trusted with her very life the ones she loved almost as much as her Jaysin

How could she be so careless to bring them into this fight her carelessness could be the end of all she held dear.

Then that son of a bitch attacking her was all she could take only when she shot him did her anger explode but the images of Corion and Chris And her primy fighting along side her gave her the strengh she needed to take back or try to take back what was her`s

Eanom you can be sure of this, they are not going to win and i will not breach to achive it
How dare thatMR.G think i was going to come outside with his goons there and HOW DARE THAT SON OF A BITCH HURT MY FRIENDS AND MY PRIMY .
NOT MY CHRIS !
NOT MY CORIN!
AND DIFFANTLY NOT MY PRIMOGEN!
HE`LL BE PAYING ME INSTEAD OF ME PAYING HIM !

NO! YOU DON`T YOU BASTARD!

Venting (7/27)

Nightstripe — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 06:05:33 GMT

((selected song: YouTube - Demon Hunter - One Thousand Apologies))

Chris speeds on his bike through the streets of Lamar, Corin's words from there conversation flash through his mind, "this is not easy for me..., I like you... a lot..., I won't be able to persue a relationship with you..."

As he cleared the city limits, he increases his speed even more, he tries to pull shadows around the bike and himself, but he is distracted by his thoughts. " I can't think of what could happen to you if someone got mad at me...", looking as a demon on wheels, shadows trailing behind him, he speeds toward a grove of trees far outside the city limits.

Chris drives his bike off the road into the trees, jumping off and slowing himself once he's a ways in, he watches as his bike slams into one of the trees, he didn't care about his bike now, he barely cared about anything at the moment, he draws his pistols as he walks farther into the trees. "Your sire already threatened me for you...", the image of a tall, pale man with sunglasses and spiked blond hair appeared by one of the trees, "I'll capture her..." it appears to say.

Splinters fly out as Chris' gun slams into the tree, going almost halfway through and leaving a gapping dent, the image appears again a few feet away, "...I'll hang her from a wall...", Chris shoots relentlesly, three shots, leaving a solid hole in the tree that was behind the image, which appears next to Chris now, "...I'll steal her blood...".

The image fades as his fist impacts on the tree, felling it. As the tree hits the ground, Chris remembers something else that was said, "Maharet is not the only one being blackmailed...", images of the goons from the night at the ventrue mansion appear, "You think you can protect her, you can't even get past my chain." one of them spits at him, "we'll put you in torpor, then use you to make her do what we want." another suggests.

Chris fires wildly at the images, trying to shut them up, but they simply fade and several trees splinter as the bullets hit them, an image appears above him, he shoots at it without waiting to hear what it has to say, but the bullets just sail through it, "Pathetic" it says as it fades.

Chris wails at the moon, continuing to pull the trigger dispite there being no bullets left, bloody tears running down his face as he sends his fanged scream into the night. "I don't want anything to happen to you.."

Investigation of the 2 dead bodies - Part 2

Mario — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 03:41:09 GMT

Entry - 7/27/2010

After a conversation with some "MADE MEN", I have the first names of the men.

Tony and Ralph
they were reported missing on the 5th but they were killed on the 4th.

The police report was unable to give a time of death because of the water.

Going back to the scene, I found a blue jean button. In the area that the police had taped off.

Investigation of the button determined that the it belonged to Taylor Saia and that it was dropped in the evening, early morning.

At 1:00am, I recent model Sedan pulls up in the area taped off. A man gets out and opens the truck. He grabs a trash bag filled with a body. It is heavy and he has a hard time carrying it to the water. He goes for the second bag. When he grabs this bag, he strains and the button pops off his jeans. Both bodies sink and has to walks.

Now to find, Taylor Saia.

Ashes to Ashes

Starshine — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 04:56:19 GMT

Mackenzie sat with tears falling down her cheeks on the car ride back to the house. Her emotions flickering between anger and sadness. She glances at the motionless form in the backseat and remembers Logan's biting words.

"I came to visit...." Mackenzie started.

And dropped a fucking bomb on her?

She wiped off her face and stared out the window. She had known it was all too good to be true. For a brief moment in time, she had had everything she could have every wanted...love...and family. Her love...he was not in a state that he should have even come out, but yet here he was protecting and helping her.

She was scared for her sister. For the time being she was here in body and spirit, but Mackenzie had seen the stubborn, defiant look in her eyes. Once she had heard that he wasn't there...Mackenzie knew if the roles were reversed...if the ring disappeared...she would not be fighting to live.

He had warned them that they would come...but why now? After everything that she had went through...to lose him now was like a cruel twist of fate. She could only wait for the pain to subside...hold on to her faith....they are all connected...ashes to ashes...dust to dust.

Can't unlive with them, can't unlive without them...

loki_098 — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 04:30:58 GMT

Lenore is walking home from the Kitty Kat, Bjorn in tow. Although by now she is calm outwardly, within she is anything but. Over and over, her mind's eye sees Corin.
Corin being treated like a cheap whore.
Corin allowing it.
Corin laughing at it.
And that bastard, whoever he is, keeping on keeping on.
She walks with an emotionless face, and it isn't until she leaves Bjorn in her living room to sleep through the day that she can ensconce herself in her room and really get in touch with her inner animal.
She has hung a punching-bag in one corner of the room she shares with her husband, and it is standard in every manner but one; instead of sand, the bag is filled with rough, cheap gravel. She doesn't bother with gloves, or with the removal of any clothing, except for her jacket. It restricts her movements, and she doesn't need the warmth.
She swings at the air a few times, feeling the muscle memory guide her fists. She turns to face the gravel-filled bag, and unloads some anxiety. No sound escapes her in between the crunch-crunch-crunch of her workout. Her jaw is still clenched in a manner that her mother would frown on, and she scowls to match it. If we look, you and I, we will see the barest glimmer of ruby-hued tears in the corners of her eyes...but, then, we're wraiths, you and I, and we can look wherever we please.
Lenore, intent on her bludgeoning of the bag, doesn't seem to notice when her knuckles eventually flay themselves open to the bone on the bag's canvas, and on the gravel beneath.
Finally, the inevitable happens, and with a sharp cry, Lenore jumps back as the bag tears open, and the now-smaller bits of gravel come pouring out onto the mat. She finally seems to notice the ruination of her fists, and pushes blood to heal the wounds.
She wishes that they would scar. Scars would help. Scar tissue, my friend, has both more strength and more density than normal tissue, you see, and is designed to defend. Normal flesh, all a well-fed Kindred really has, though, is designed for less strenuous tasks.
Lenore flexes her hands for a moment, and then begins rolling up the corners of the mat, and the gravel with it. She is as unemotional in this task as in the previous exertion, and is soon finished.
As the sun, unobserved, creeps over the horizon, Lenore collapses into her bed, crawling into her husband's arms, and consigns herself to oblivion.

From the Hanging Gardens of Babylon

Mario — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 03:25:10 GMT

Entry 1 7/26/2010

In the singing, shattered midnight
By the cool sands of time
Through the bloody gates of heaven
Past the sentries in my mind

Bring about the change so quickly
Bring about the terror's night
Bring about the blood of lovers
Bring about the smell of fright

I see you watching where I walk
Through the moonlit jasmine fields
Listen closesly as I talk
About the stars and their lovers past

Past fields of poppies, burning bright
Into towers of Blackened Bone
Follow me, Bastard of Caine,
Come with me. I have no home.

As I drain your life's blood sweetly
As you sigh into my warm hands
As I suck your madness sweetly
Streaming down like crimson hands

I dance the dance of the fool
And pray you find me mad
For if you lay hands upon the root
You'll know me, without illusion
And find me guilty of the truth.

There was some talk among researchers that there was no way of knowing whether this was authentic or even translated correctly.

Pius shakes his head trying to clear the image from his mind. Says in a low voice..."The Words cause Blood to flow."

I believe that I have a truthful answer to those questions. In speaking a enlightened and gifted member of this clan, truth was shown in this poem.

So the search grows and continues. I have made a promise that I will show this poem to no others of that family and after what I saw it did, I will not show this again to anyone. For the words of the Father and not for all to see, hear and understand.

The Lonely Road?....((vamp))

Shawn Mc — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 05:07:16 GMT

Domino winces as he puts on his seatbelt. The humor of the situation had not been lost on him. The big brave warrior, wincing at a piece of nylon. He let's out a small chuckle and forces a smile at the gorgeous woman in the passenger seat next to him.

The night had been full of suprises for Domino. He had originally planned on helping Corin move then just going on patrol. It definately didn't go as planned. Before he knew it he had been forced to show his true image to Sophia, then she had, unknowingly, become his first kiss. If that wasn't enough of a suprise to his usually methodic and analytical mind he then found himself running into a burning building to save innocents.

Domino takes a left turn at the intersection and the seatbelt drags a bit on the burn on his left shoulder, making him growl slightly from the pain. "Sorry. I shouldn't be complaining about the pain. Especially pain from wounds I choose to receive." He glances at Sophia. "Wounds that were worth it."

Domino's mind continues its own little tangent even as he talks and drives. The wounds wouldn't have been quite so bad if it wasn't for 'running into the burning building to save innocents' turning into 'running THROUGH THE WALL of a burning building to save innocents'. He never would have done that before, but SHE was never there before. For the first time ever it wasn't his brain that was calling the shots in that building. He knew he had the beast at bay, so that left only one thing. Something he had never really made decisions with alone, his heart. It was an alien feeling to him. All he had known his life was his work. Even in unlife he only had his work. He never had anything like Sophia in his life before.

"I hope you don't mind me taking you to my house. I don't know where else to go and something tells me you won't leave me alone while I heal."

Domino knew his excuse probably sounded weak, but he had nothing else. He wasn't the type to come out and say 'Why don't we go back to my place and see if we can make me feel again' but ,in a way, that's exactly what he was wanting. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't walk the long road alone. It was a gamble. He wasn't the type to gamble but hey, the night was full of suprises.