Hello again.
This is part 5a of my BGC/WoD:VTM fanfic, Night Sabers. Thanks for all
the feedback I have been given. Hopefully, this chapter comes out as well
as I hope it will. Please be aware that this is a rough draft; feedback
(positive or negative) will only make it better.
I apologize this took so long to come out; school and work are now taking
more of my time. Please be aware this is part _5A_; part 5b will be out
as soon as I can finish it. I had originally intended to post the
complete part 5, however delays have prompted me to post what I have done.
Enjoy.
There was a brief series of cameos after Mackie and the Knight Sabers
leave the airport. They were: Koenma, Botan and Yuusuke (YuYuHakusho),
Ferio, Umi, Fuu, Hikaru and Mokona-Oh (Magic Knights RayEarth), Armitage
and Ross (Armitage III), Ranma and ? (Ranma 1/2), and Bean Bandit and
Rally (Gunsmith Cats and Riding Bean; hey, at least now we know how Rally
went from dark skinned brunnete to fair skinned blonde, eh?). Actually,
they were rather obscure and pathetic cameos. I will try harder.
Lexicon (Glossary):
A brief note on the use of the terms Clan and Bloodline: When the word
Clan is used, it refers to a bloodline whose founder is 3rd generation,
through diablerie or the embrace. A Bloodline is similar to a Clan,
however, the founder is 4th generation or of weaker blood. Clans are
afforded greater respect and equality. With Methusalahs and even
Antedulivians awakening, being a clan offers much prestige and power.
The Thirteen Clans of the Book of Nod:
Assamite: The Assamite clan is the clan of the unseen, unheard, and
lethal strike. It is a clan of assassins and fanatics. Their disciplines
reflect this, being Celerity (superhuman speed to kill swiftly), Obfuscate
(the ability to cloud and deceive minds to approach targets unsensed), and
Quietus (the ability to invoke silence and use blood as a poison; the art
of silent death). The Assamite philosophy and beliefs hold that hold that
diablerizing to gain more power and lower generation is to become closer
to Caine, vengenance, and therefore heaven. The Assamites originate from
the Middle East, and as a result incorporate many Arabic and Islamic
values. The Assamites are a very close knit clan, carefully selecting
neonates, training them for seven years before the Embrace, then seven
years after. The Assamite Antediluvian is Haquim, a being so skilled, he
nearly bested Caine. The Assamites were cursed by Caine to be forever
marked as killers, their auras black as demons. Assamite skin grows
darker the older they become. At the end of the Anarch Revolt, the newly
formed Camarilla forced the Assamites to accept being cursed by the
Tremere, so they could not drink Kindred vitae, and thus diablerize. The
Assamites still took contracts, using blood as payment, which they used to
artificially lower their generation through magic. In 2035, many things
have happened to the Assamites. In 2008, the curse placed on them by the
Tremere has been mostly lifted by the founder of the unnamed Clan of
Power of the Five. As a result, the vengeful Assamites fell upon the
Tremere. In 2013, a Middle East conflict escalated, which resulted in a
nuclear weapon 'accidently' being used; one which incidently destroyed
the Assamite headquarters of Almut and much of their clan. Few doubted
who was truly responsible. The Assamites continue their vengeance,
though most of their elders and knowledge is now gone. The concept of the
Assamites is Assassination, and their most defining discipline is Quietus.
The Sabbat has an Assamite anti-clan, the Assamite antitribu, who were
never cursed by the Tremere.
Brujah: The Brujah are a clan of scholar-warriors, a clan forever divided
and at war with itself, caught between Order and Chaos. The Brujah were
among the first ever of all the clans to advocate what would later become
known as equal rights and scholarship, both of which they were willing to
fight for. The Brujah dream was a civilization where humans and vampires
co-exist in harmony, which resulted in Carthage; a dream denied them when
Rome crushed Carthage. Brujah was the epitome of the conflict between
Order and Chaos that plague the Brujah even today. A truly legendary
Antedulivian, Brujah was both a member of Caine's Inner Council and one
those most beloved by Caine. Brujah possesed a number of legendary
powers, including the ability to walk through the very fabric of time at
will, and know the future. Both the other clans and Brujah's own clan
became dissatisfied with Brujah, a being whose power and dizzying
intellect confused and awed jealous vampires. One of Brujah's childer,
Troile, came forth and challenged Brujah, and in a fit of anger over
Brujah's indecisiveness and aloofness, diablerizing Brujah. From then on,
two bloodlines existed, the False Brujah and the True Brujah. The False
Brujah are descended from Troile and possess the disciplines of Celerity
(to defend and attack), Potence (to create and destroy), and Presence
(used to influence others). The weakness of the False Brujah is that they
frenzy much more easily than normal vampires. In 2035, this weakness has
become truly crippling. The False Brujah are associated with concept of
Rebellion, and their most defining discipline is Celerity. The True
Brujah are descended from Brujah and possess the disciplines of Potence
(to create and destroy), Presence (used to influence others), and Temporis
(control and observation of time). The weakness of the True Brujah is
they find it difficult understand issues of morality. In 2035, this has
made them near apathetic and totally without moral comprehension,
resulting in a swift slide into being consumed by the Beast. The True
Brujah are associated with the concept of Knowledge, and their most
defining discipline is Temporis. The False Brujah are commonly perceived
to be the only Brujah, the True Brujah mostly a myth. The False Brujah
were one of the clans that established the Camarilla. The True Brujah
were one of the clans that established the Tel'mahe'Ra. There is a Sabbat
antitribu clan of the False Brujah.
Caitiff: In truth, not a clan at all, the Caitiff are the clanless.
There are four ways one becomes a Caitiff: one is Embraced and one's sire
disappears without informing the childe, one leaves one's own clan, one's
blood is so weak (typically 10th-15th generation) that the clan attributes
do not catch, or one is Embraced and by some strange premutation of
incredible chance one does not suffer from any weakness. True Caitiff,
the latter two examples, suffer no clan weakness, but neither show any
dispensation or ease in any disciplines, but neither do they show any
extraordinary difficulty learning other disciplines. In 2035, as clan
weaknesses get worse and worse, the Caitiff are more and more despised, as
they suffer none of these maledictions. It does not help that a fragment
of the Book of Nod has been uncovered, which writes that the Caitiff are
"the true childer of Caine". The Caitiff of the Sabbat have banded
together form a clan of their own, the Panders, named after their leader
and organizer. The concept of the Caitiff, if there is any, is either
Bastards or Free, and a few dare whisper, Pure.
Followers of Set (or Settites): The Settites, nicknamed the "Snakes", are
best described as their namesake is in the Torah; deceivers and
corrupters. The Settites take their name from their founder, Set, whom
the legends of the Egyptian god of darkness, Set, were based. Set was a
deeply passionate and good young man, who had an older brother who was
always better than he was. Scorned and rejected, a bitter and angry Set
retreated to the sands, emerging as a vampire and Antediluvian. Rejected
by the light, Set embraced the darkness and swore all would be bent to it.
He created childer to carry on his crusade, gifting them with the
disciplines of Obfuscate (to hide and deceive), Presence (to influence
others), and Serpentis (to seduce into corruption). The Settites
proceeded to carry out their founder's work, seeking to corrupt all in the
name of their master. It is important to note that the Settites are not
Infernalists; Set if their "god", not demons. The clan weakness is taking
double damage from sunlight. In 2035, the Settites around the world are
returning to Egypt, where it is rumored Set himself awakes from torpor.
The clan weakness has gotten much worse, to the point sunlight causes
triple damage, and even simple bright lights cause pain. The Settites are
associated with the concept of Corruption, and their defining discipline
is Serpentis. The Sabbat have a Settite anti-clan, the Serpents of Light,
who hate Settites.
Gangrel: The Gangrel are a clan that are more akin to animals than
humans. For them, the wilderness is their true home. Their disciplines
reflects this, being Animalism (the control and communication of animals),
Fortitude (supernatural endurance for survival), and Protean (shifting
form to that of nature; i.e., growing claws, changing to a wolf or bat,
melding with earth or air). The Gangrel simply desire to be left alone,
for the most part. As the wilderness shrinks, so do the grounds, realms,
and numbers of the Gangrel. The Gangrel can be found across the world.
The Gangrel Antedulivian, Ennoia (called Gangrel or Lilith), was an
Embraced werewolf. She, and her childer, retain their connection to their
animal side. Allowing them the power of Protean, it also creates their
clan weakness, which is such that every time a Gangrel frenzies, the
Gangrel acquires an animalistic trait (a tail, cat eyes, furs, etc.) In
2035, this problem has reached the point that even the minds of the
Gangrel begin to emulate animals. They are a clan much weaker. The
Gangrel are associated with the concept of Wilderness and their defining
discipline is Protean. The Sabbat has two Gangrel antitribu, the Country
and City Gangrel, the latter anti-clan possessing the disciplines of
Celerity, Obfuscate, and Protean. The Gangrel are one of the founders of
the Camarilla and of the Inconnu.
Giovanni: This is the clan of death, family, and wealth. Created by
Augustus Giovanni from the blood of the diablerized members of the Clan
Cappodoican, this clan has assumed the position of the clan of death in
the vampiric world. All members of this clan were once ghouls and family
relations to each other, all being from the Giovanni family. The Giovanni
disciplines are Dominate (to command), Necromancy (to speak with dead and
see into the afterlife), and Potence (to kill). The Giovanni clan
weakness is that feeding from a vessel causes twice as much damage as
normal. The concept of the Giovanni is Wealth, and their defining
disciplines is Necromancy. Not much is known about this clan. In 2035,
the Giovanni clan weakness can kill a mortal fed upon; Giovanni are
almost all blood bankers. In 2010, the Giovanni were heavily struck in
when the Assamites struck Italy, looking for Tremere. By necessity, the
Giovanni brought their impressive wealth into an union they made with the
only other clan to achieve clan status by diablerie, the Tremere, creating
along with them, the remanants of Pentex, and the Technocracy, the
corporate conglomerate Genom. The Giovanni are frustrated and unhappy
with the situation, but are important members of Genom.
Lasombra: Covered in part 4.
Malkavian: One word is best used to describe this clan: madness. The
Malkavians, one and all, are insane. But with insanity comes wisdom and
insight. The Malkavian are one of the eldest of all the vampiric clans.
Their history is wide and varied. Many dismiss the Malkavians, but those
wiser remember Rome and who truly ruled, who manipulated the establishment
of the Camarilla, and who hold secrets beyond mortal understanding. The
Antediluvian of the Malkavians, Malkav, is as mysterious and
incomprehensible as his descendants. Malkav was 'brother' of the Salubri
founder, Saulot, and one of the Three most favored by Caine, a member of
the Inner Council of Caine. Rumors whisper that Caine asked Malkav a
problem impossible and esoteric, and when Malkav answered, Caine cursed
him for fear of his insights and brilliance. Others claim Malkav tried to
mentally link himself to his childer and perceive all the world at once,
driving him and his childer mad. Whatever the case, it is believed that
he is the only Antediluvian never to have entered torpor, continuing to
walk the worlds. Malkav possessed a number of legendary powers, including
the ability to traverse dimensions at will, and omniscience. The
Malkavian disciplines are Auspex (supernatural awareness), Obfuscate (to
hide from minds), and either Dominate (to command minds) or Dementation
(to catalyze insanity). The Malkavian concept is Madness. Their clan
weakness is insanity. In 2035, suprisingly little has changed among the
Malkavians, not that most can tell. Few diablerize them, fearing
insanity, and their numbers have always been constant. For the first time
in history, the Malkavians are beginning to organize, something that is
terrifying neonates and Methusalahs alike. The Malkavians were one of the
clans that created the Camarilla, though most claim they did it as a
practical joke. There is a Malkavian antitribu in the Sabbat.
Nosferatu: The Nosferatu are the clan unseen, hiding their hideousness in
shadows and sewers. Their clan curse is their revolting and hideous
appearance. They hide from social interactions, rarely participatiing.
The Nosferatu were thus cursed because of their Antedulivian founder
Absimiliard's cruelty and barbarism would turn even a Tzimisce's stomach,
and it angered Caine greatly. Caine cursed Absimiliard and his childer so
that "his appearance would reflect his true self". All were thus cursed,
and all but one childer, a kind woman, were placed into torpor. This one
woman would later create the Nosferatu as known today. The Nosferatu
disciplines are Animalism (control and communication with animals, who see
beyond appearances), Obfuscate (to hide their hideous appearance), and
Potence (to create and destory). The Nosferatu concept is Hidden, and
their most prized and defining discipline is Obfuscate. In 2035, the
Nosferatu are a clan of skulkers forced into the light. Fearing the
return of their cruel Antedulivian founder, knowing they will be hunted
down by him and his childer. In addition, in the diablerie-ridden times
of 2035, the Nosferatu have found themselves relatively immune to
diablerie (after all, who wants to look like a monster), and for the first
time, a number of Nosferatu Princes and powerful Primogen have begun to
appear. The Nosferatu the one of the clans that created the Camarilla.
There is a Nosferatu antitribu in the Sabbat.
Ravnos: The Ravnos are the tricksters of the vampiric world, the cruel
jesters and the careless rogues. The Ravnos are a clan who travels the
world like those they were in life, the Romany Rye, or as they are more
commonly know, the Gypsies. The Ravnos believe the world and morality are
flexible and transitory, following a quasi-Taoist path they call Paradox.
The Ravnos disciplines are Animalism (control of animals), Chimestry
(creation of illusions), and Fortitude (supernatural endurance, to
survive). The Ravnos clan weakness is a complusion to commit one
particular type of crime (thievery, con games, etc.) Little is known about
Ravnos, founder of Clan Ravnos. The concept of the Ravnos is Trickery,
and their defining disipline is Chimestry. The Sabbat have the Ravnos
antitribu, an anti-clan that Embraces Georgios, or non-Gypsies. In 2035,
the Ravnos are nearly extinct, while the majority of the Ravnos antitribu
have defected en masse to the Conclave, though some remain in the Sabbat.
Toreador: To be a member of clan Toreador is to walk in a world of
beauty, where every detail is crystal clear, enchantingly so. The
Toreador are the artists of the undead world, beings who perceive beauty
and art everywhere. The Toreador Antedulivian, Arikel, is supposedly the
most beautiful being in all the world. The Toreador have for centuries
tried to raise art and culture in the human world, from the primitive
cultures, to their crowning achievement, the Renaissance. The Toreador
clan disciplines reflect this, being Auspex (supernatural awareness, to
perceive the beauty of the world in full), Celerity (superhuman speed and
grace), and Presence (to influence and manipulate people). The Toreador
clan weakness is the chance they will be struck by something such that
they will stand entranced, experiencing the beauty of what has caught
their attention. Their clan founder possessed several incredible powers,
the most notable being Dreamworld, the very thoughts of Arikel
encouraging, supporting, and inspiring artists around the world around.
The Toreador clan concept is Beauty and their defining discipline is
Auspex. In 2035, the the Toreador are reduced in power, but still potent.
Their clan weakness now strikes with distressing frequency and intensity.
There are Toreador antitribu within the Sabbat, indentical to their parent
clan, except they see beauty in darker art forms, such as torture or
murder.
Tremere: The Tremere were originally never a Clan, not even vampires.
They were a house of mortal mages, belonging to the Order of Hermes. In
1022, mortal magic was beginning to fade in power, so Tremere began to
look to ways of extending his life, finally settling on using Tzimisce
vitae to turn themselves into vampires. To their horror, their magic
dissappearing with their mortality, the Tremere found themselves beset by
the angry Tzimisce. The Tremere drew their shattered power back into some
semblance of order, creating their clan disciplines of Auspex (to perceive
the supernatural), Dominate (to command mortals), and their unique
Thaumaturgy (a vampiric recreation of their mortal magic). Realizing
their precarious position, the vampires began to create more vampires from
the Order of Hermes, and Tremere sought a way to gain legitimacy. On the
advice of an unknown vampire, Tremere sought to diablerize the Salubri
Antedulivian, Saulot, as he was the most peaceful of his kind. In doing
so, Tremere gained power, but nearly every vampiric clan rose in hatred
over the diablerie of Saulot. Extremely well organized, the Tremere
managed to persevere, creating a slave race of vampires called the
Gargoyles. Against their opposition, they survived, becoming essential
members and one of the founders of the Camarilla. They hunted down and
began to destroy the survivors of the Salubri clan. Their clan weakness
is their Blood Bond to their sires and the Tremere council. In 2035, the
Tremere have divided, though few are aware of this fact. Some Tremere
remain in the Camarilla, while a sizable faction has split off in the
establishment of Genom. It is rumored that Tremere himself has risen from
torpor, but is insane. The Tremere also find it more and more difficult
to create progeny, and have tightened in amongst themselves. The Tremere
concept is Sorcery and their defining discipline is Thaumaturgy.
Tzimisce: Ask a vampire which clan deserves the term vampire, and they
will probably say the Tzimisce. Ancient, evil, trustworthy scholars who
are utterly inhuman, the Tzimisce ruled East Europe with an iron fist for
millenia. They view humans as playthings and dare think themselves the
gods of this Earth. The Tzimisce were the original sorcerors, before the
Tremere stole their blood and succeeded them in this role. The Tzimisce
disciplines are Animalism (proving their superiority over lesser beings),
Auspex (to see the world as they should), and Vicissitude (a bizarre power
that is used to alter the flesh and bones of themselves and others). The
Tzimisce used their disciplines to "alter" their subjects and themselves,
seeking the ideal form. Their clan weakness is requiring two handfuls of
dirt from their native land upon which they must sleep or else suffer, as
some deep part within them craves stability. The Tzimisce fought the
Tremere, but their terror tactics were no match for the organized Tremere.
Paranoid of losing power, ancient Tzimisce sent Blood Bound childer to die
by the hundreds. Eventually, the younger Tzimisce discovered the
Viniculum, a kind of weak group Blood Bond that shattered Blood Bonds, and
they fell upon their clan elders. The Tzimisce were essential founders of
the Sabbat. Vlad Tepes, the "Dracula" of legends, was a 6th generation
Tzimisce. There is an "Old Clan" Tzimisce, who possesses Dominate rather
than Vicissitude, who were founders of the Tel'mahe'Ra. In 2035, the
Tzimisce are one of the only things holding the Sabbat together, but they
are weak. Their clan weakness has come to the point where they must sleep
surrounded by their native soil.
Ventrue: Though the Lasombra might argue against this, the Ventrue are
the leaders of vampiric society. It was the Ventrue who established the
Camarilla, the Ventrue who argued for vampiric law, the Ventrue who sought
expansion of human culture. Despite the fact their Antedulivian founder
Veddartha is believed dead, the Ventrue are perhaps the most powerful
clan, wielding vast temporal power through their disciplines, which are
Dominate (to command and control mortals), Fortitude (to survive
assassinations), and Presence (to inspire and control emotions). Used in
combination, these disciplines are potent indeed. While not as skilled
in manipulation as the Lasombra, not as wealthy or financially adept as
the Giovanni, not as social as the Toreador, nor as organized as the
Tremere, they possess all of these qualifications to a certain degree.
The Ventrue clan has the most princes the world around. Seeing themselves
as the natural leaders of the vampire race, it is not surprising their
concept is Kingship. Their clan weakness is that they can only feed from
one type of mortal (young, old, virgin, male. etc.). In 2035, the Ventrue
are still the most powerful clan, despite their desperate efforts to hold
the Camarilla together. Accustomed to attempted diablerie, they are
wearing the current crisis fairly well. The clan weakness has become much
more restrictive (such as being only able to feed from young, female,
virgin, redheads) and as a result, most Ventrue tend to stay in large
cities.
Lost Clans:
Cappodocians: The original clan of death, the Cappodocians were scholars,
obsessed with the study of the process of death. Their clan disciplines
were Auspex, Fortitude, and Mortis (the understanding and creation of the
process of death). Their clan weakness was that they resembled the dead
they studied, utterly pale and bloodless, with flesh that was ice cold.
Their Antedulivian founder, Ashur (or Cappadocius), was diablerized with
the rest of his clan, when their ghoul family, the Giovanni, diablerized
the clan. Unlike the Salubri, their was minimal actual outcry over their
destruction, as few actually cared.
Salubri: If one was to ask a knowledgable vampire if there was ever any
truly good vampires, they would answer the Salubri. Even the draconian
and territorial Tzimisce allowed safe passage to Salubri Healers, who were
renowned. Scholars, healers, wisdoms, and even warriors, the Salubri were
the most benign of vampires, refusing to take blood except from those who
offered it freely. Their disciplines were Auspex (supernatural
awareness), Fortitude (supernatural toughness), and Valeren (commonly
called Obeah). Valeren was a mystical discipline, intrinsicly linked to
the third eye of the Salubri. There were two kinds of Salubri, Warrior
and Healer, the Warriors long since dust and memory, a handful (3 to 7) of
Healers surviving. Never a large clan (the smallest in number, in fact),
the Salubri fell before the might of the Tremere. The Salubri are the
last to know ancient wisdom, such as the language Enochian, and the truth
of Heaven and Hell. The Salubri founder, Saulot, was a wiseman who
traveled the world and dimensions. He discovered the vampiric nirvana of
Golconda, was an implaccable enemy of devils, and the most beloved by
Caine. With his brother Malkav, and best friend Brujah, he was the one of
the Inner Council of Caine. The Salubri are mildly distrusted by most
younger vampires, thanks to the smear campaign waged by the Tremere. The
Salubri live and teach by example. Their beliefs hold that vampiric
existence is Hell, and only through Golconda can peace be found. A
Salubri has found Golconda Embraces a childer, teaches him clan ways,
insures he will find Golconda, then has the childe diablerize the sire.
Despite being hunted by Tremere, a few Salubri still survive, who are
fanatically protected by the Five.
The Five Clans:
General notes: The Five Clans, or the Five as they call themselves, are
new players to vampiric politics, though they are ancient themselves.
They divide themselves into "castes", each having an assigned role. They
also are "True Embraced", a process that allows them to always look
relatively human, enables them to recreate mortal activities (breathing,
heartbeat) with the expenditure of blood, and even allows them to endure
the sun for _very_ _short_ durations. Unfortunately, this process
requires much vampiric vitae, resulting in a very slow "reproductivity"
among the Five, and creates a permanent, mild Viniculum among the Five.
They are known for their universal reverance of the Salubri that at times
borders on religious, their hereto unknown powers, their universal quest
for Golconda, and their willingness to unify. Note the names of clans and
bloodlines are typically made up; they have no true name for their clans,
for the most part. A sizable minority of the Five have found Golconda and
have found their clan weakness changing to something beneficial.
Dai'Shar: Meaning "True Ones" in some old language only a Dai'Shar would
remember, the Dai'Shar are the warriors of the Five. Their clan
disciplines are Celerity, Fortitude, and Potence, also showing a marked
skill in Protean as well, though they call these disciplines Wind, Earth,
Fire, and Water. The Dai'Shar clan weakness is a palpable and
unconcealable aura of emotions they flare around them, a manifestation of
their inner conflict. This curse prevents them from engaging in social
interaction, as their aura of hostility quickly frightens and makes people
nervous. Thus, denied verbal and social communication, the Dai'Shar
turn to literary works and writing for social comfort and communication.
The Dai'Shar know many Thaumaturgical paths, though they are not the clan
of power. The Dai'Shar approach to combat is much like martial arts.
Their founder, referred to as the Traveler or Wanderer, still exists and
helps his childer. After the Dai'Shar assault on the Sabbat, Mexico City,
and the Black Spiral Labyrinth, they find themselves much weakened. They
are still the second most numerous of the Five.
Ilvcien: The Peasant or Worker class of the Five, the Ilvcien are the
most numerous of the Five. They are survivors, able to exist in adverse
conditions. They are the builders and the caretakers of what the Five
create. Their Disciplines are Animalism, Auspex, and Fortitude. Their
clan weakness, their inability to lie, makes them ill-suited for vampiric
politics, but it does make them very trusted. While not warriors, the
Ilvcien know how to take care of themselves.
Royal and the Imperial: The Royal and the Imperial are the leaders of the
Five, those who plan and organize the driven, but sometimes impractical
sect. The Royal are everything one could ask for in a leader; commanding,
powerful, proud, but humble, understanding, and kind. Their disciplines
are Dominate, Presence, and Imperium (from old Latin; a supernatural
control over vampires). Unfortunately, the Royal clan has a very
debilitating weakness; they find it near impossible to create childer.
Only one out of every ten attempts succeeds, and only 3 in 10 of those
successfully Embraced are actually of Royal heritage, the other childer
being Caitiff. Considering the Royal Embrace only the best of human
beings, it is miraculous they have even the dozen members they do. The
shock and emotional scarring of seeing so many mortals remain dead when
Royal vitae passes their lips has made the Royal accept their curse.
Recognizing this problem, the Royal created a bloodline to succeed them.
The Imperial bloodline was born, and the general concensus that would
arise of this was, as the Dai'Shar said, "They should have been put to the
sun from the first". While the Imperial disciplines of Auspex (to know
others thoughts), Dominate (to command), and Presence (to manipulate),
made them masterful politicians, their weakness of an incredible lust for
power made them a liability. A few of the Imperial even became
Infernalists. Despite this, the Royal remained true to their new childer,
and this allowed the Imperial bloodline's continued existence. The
Imperial are the only members of the Five who are not True Embraced as a
matter of course. Despite this, or because of this, the Imperial are
probably the clan with the most potential, as unlike the rest of the Five,
they are the most human.
The Clan not named, and the Illuminis and the Seers: Like the Royal, the
Clan not named found itself unable to continue, and thus created seperate
bloodlines in a mighty arcane ritual. The Illuminis are the most
artificial of the Five, their disciplines granted to them when they are
True Embraced, their vitae natively having no inbred disciplines. To
grant disciplines to a childer, the sire uses supernatural material to
grant the disciplines, such as the blood of mighty animals to grant
Animalism, the blood of fairies rich with Glamour to grant Mycatheria, the
blood of the sire to grant Thaumaturgy, etc. The formal Embrace concludes
with the sire placing these liquids upon the eye, which causes them to
become an unnatural color, such as bright red, purple, or a metallic
color. More importantly, it warps the vampire's mind to an intense
obsession with the disciplines granted. Though they can learn other
disciplines, it is their primary disciplines that fascinate the Illuminis.
While this is a versatile bloodline, they find themselves restricted in
other ways. The Seers, on the other hand, seem almost normal. Perhaps
the smallest of the clans of the Five, their true numbers unknown, the
Seers are known possess the disciplines of Auspex and Litheria (the
ability to see Fate and thus manipulate the future), the third discipline
unknown. The weakness of the Seers is they are blind.
The Fifth Clan: More a myth than anything else, these are ones who guide
and are said to truly rule the Five. They are said to have legendary
powers, such as immortality, the ability to walk unharmed amongst
sunlight, and omnisence. Many, even among the Five, do not believe in the
Fifth Clan. They never appear and their are no definite records of them
anywhere.
This covers all the Clans. Bloodlines, such as the Baali, Kiasyd, and
others, shall be covered later.
Disciplines:
A brief note on disciplines: Disciplines are the supernatural powers of a
vampire. They are more than that, they are a constant in the vampire's
turbulent life, something solid. Disciplines are aribitrarily ranked in
levels, one to ten. The first five levels of any discipline are constant
and inflexible; they are the same now as they were millenia ago, though
variations exist. The first five levels can be learned by any vampire,
from 3rd to 15th generation. Above level five, the vampire creates their
own powers, their mastery of their blood have reached such a level.
Generation (unless one has achieved Golconda) determines maximum
discipline level; 7th generation can learn level 6 powers in a discipline,
6th generation can learn level 7 powers, etc. Level 6 powers are
extraordinary, level 8 are the abilities of a demigod, and level 10
(Antedulivian level) are the powers of a god.
Animalism: The control of, and communication with, animals. The basic
powers of animalism are 1-Sweet Whispers, the ability to communicate with
animals in a fashion, 2-The Beckoning, the ability to call animals to the
vampire, 3-Song of Serenity, the ability to calm the inner Beast of a
being and thus making them docile and non-aggressive, 4-Sharing of Spirit,
the ability to take possession of an animal, and 5-Drawing out the Beast,
the ability to remove one's own frenzied Beast and cast it into another.
Higher level powers enable a vampire to feed well off animals, and at the
highest level, take control of all the animals of one type for miles.
Auspex: Supernatural awareness and psychic understanding. The basic
powers of Auspex are 1-Heightened Senses, a supernatural sharpening of the
five senses and an opening of the sixth, 2-Aura Perception, the ability to
perceive auras and thus a glimpse of the soul of the person, 3-The
Spirit's Touch, or psychometry, the ability to read emotional and mental
imprints from objects with a touch, 4-Telepathy, the ability to read minds
and mentally communicate, and 5-Psychic Projection, the ability to divorce
the astral self from body and explore the world thus. Higher levels of
Auspex allow the vampire to know the motivations, thoughts, and emotions
of all those around, while the highest powers allows a vampire to know the
emotions, thoughts, and motivations of _everyone_ in the world, to a
certain degree.
Celerity: Supernatural speed. The basic powers of Celerity allows a
vampire to 1-double, 2-triple, 3-quadruple, 4-quintuple, and 5-sextuple
the amount of actions she can take for a point of blood. The higher powers
of elders allow the vampire to walk across water or up walls, the highest
power allowing a vampire to move faster than sound- and light itself.
Chimestry: Creating illusions. The basic powers of Chimestry are 1-Ignis
Fatuus, allowing a simple, one sense illusion, 2-Dweomer, the creation of
an illusion that can be perceived by all five senses, 3-Apparition, the
creation of an illusion that can move, 4-Permanancy, the creation of a
permanent illusion, and 5-Horrid Reality, allowing illusions to become so
real to a person, they believe it when they take damage, are burnt, etc.
Higher powers make one immune to illusions, while the highest power can
make any illusion become reality at will.
Dementation: Spreading insanity. The basic powers of Demenation are
1-Passion, whatever emotion the subject was feeling is tripled in
intensity, 2-Mind Tricks, the subject sees things conjured from the
subconcious out of the corner of their eyes, 3-Eyes of Chaos, the vampire
can perceive the intricate patterns in things invisible to most people,
such as a person's true nature, an advanced crypotographic code, or the
inner beauty and order of smoke rising from a fire, 4-Confusion, the
ability to make a person completely confused and unable to summon rational
thoughtm and 5-Total Insanity, the ability to drive someone completely
insane for a time. Higher levels can make another permanently insane or a
psychopathic killer, while the highest levels can make one open to the
true, insane nature of reality itself. Too bad it drives you nuts.
Dominate: Control and command of another's mind. Vampires can affect
mortals with ease, but can only affect another vampire if they are of
inferior generation (thus a 6th generation can dominate a 7th generation
vampire, but not another 6th generation). The vampire must also make
direct eye-to-eye contact to dominate. People with strong will may be
immune to Dominate, and those who are strong willed eventually throw off
the effects of Dominate. The basic powers of Dominate are 1-Command of
the Wearied Mind, allowing a one word command (jump, laugh, etc.) of an
individual, 2-Mesmerize, allowing the implanting of orders and complex
commands, 3-The Forgetful Mind, the ability to destroy or create memory in
another's mind, 4-Conditioning, the ability to condition a mortal (like
Pavlov's theorim) to obey without question, but this turns them into a
drone, and 5-Possesion, the ability to usurp the body of another, but this
leaves one's own body catatonic. Higher levels allow Domination without
eye contact, just visual sight, while highest level can turn anyone in the
world into a loyal, willing, puppet.
Fortitude: Supernatural endurance. Vampires are already tough creatures,
able to heal fast and endure painful injuries, but those with Fortitude
are tougher than even that, able to endure even the traditional banes of
vampires, fire and sunlight, in addition to added toughness to normal
injuries. High levels of Fortitude enable one to toughen oneself to the
point where weapons shatter upon striking the vampire, while the highest
level allows a vampire to walk freely though the blazing sun, a towering
inferno, or a nuclear explosion.
Necromancy: The ability to understand, communicate with, and compel the
dead. The basic powers are 1-Insight, the ability to examine a corpses
and understand the causes of death, 2-Summon Spirit, call a spirit to the
vampire using a fetish from the spirit's mortal life, 3-Compel, force a
spirit to actions for the vampire, 4-Haunting, ordering spirits to cause
chaos around a person or place, and 5-Soul Stealing, the ability to remove
a soul and place it in another. Higher levels allow a vampire to create
zombies, and the highest level allows the creation of a contract, signed
in blood, which must be obeyed to the letter, else the signee loses their
soul.
Obeah (the Healer variant of Valeren): The ability to heal, linking to a
third eye all practictioners of this discipline gain. The basic powers
are 1-Panacea, the ability to lick a wound and heal it, 2-Anesthetic
Touch, numbing and removing pain from a subject, 3-Neutral Guard, creating
pacification in a target, 4-Treat the Sick Mind, the ability to cure
insanity, both temporary and permanent (though Malkavians can never be
totally cured), and 5-Unburdening of the Bestial Soul, removing the soul
from a subject to calm them. Higher levels include the ability to
rejuvenate (decrease in age) a mortal, while the highest level allows the
resurrection of a mortal.
Obfuscate: Called the art of invisibility, Obfuscate actually clouds or
deceives the minds of observers into not seeing the vampire, or seeing
something else. Not effective against electronic media (cameras). A
being with superior Auspex can see through inferior Obfuscate. The basic
abilities are 1-Cloak of Shadows, the ability to step into shadows and
remain unseen, 2-Unseen Presence, invisibility, provided the vampire does
nothing to break it, 3-Mask of the Thousand Faces, the ability to appear
as anyone, 4-Vanish from the Mind's Eye, the ability to dissappear in
plain sight, 5-Cloak the Gathering, the ability to Obfuscate a number of
being. Higher levels include the ability to Obfuscate entire buildings,
while the highest power enables one to vanish from the minds of everyone,
from history itself, becoming truly anonymous.
Obtenebration: The creation and control of shadows. The basic abilities
are 1-Shadow Play, the control of shadows to conceal or intimidate,
2-Shroud of Night, the creation of sphere of inpenetrable darkness that
muffles sound, 3-Arms of the Abyss, the creation of tentacles made of
shadowstuff used to attack and entangle, 4-Nightshades, to cause all
shadows in an area to obey the vampire, 5-Shadow Body, the ability of the
vampire to turn into an oozing shadow unharmable by normal weapons.
Higher level abilities include the ability to summon Shadows to obey the
vampire, while the hightest powers allow the creation of a gate to the
Abyss; effectively, a black hole.
Potence: Supernatural strength. Vampires can use their potent blood to
increase their strength, but Potence is something even more. It is a
supernatural force that almost "guarantees" some damage will get through.
Thus even a scrawny, weakling with high Potence could lift a car. Higher
level abilities, possessed by elders, enable a vampire project their
strength like a projectile, and at the hightest levels, destroy anything
with but a touch.
Presence: The ability to inspire and manipulate emotions. Unlike
Dominate, Presence is not a mental control, thus the subject retains free
will and independence of thought. Also unlike Dominate, generation is no
barrier to Presence. The basic powers are 1-Awe, the vampire draws all
eyes and is the center of attention, 2-Dread Gaze, the ability to terrify
by growling and hissing at a target, 3-Entrancement, the ability to make a
victim a willing servant for a time, 4-Summon, the ability to call anyone
to the vampire, who will hurry to come, 5-Majesty, the power of Awe
amplified a thousand times, the vampire is enhanced to an aura of power
akin to that of royalty, and others treat her like it. Higher powers
include the ability to induce hate or love at will, while the highest
power means the very hopes and dreams of others across the world are
influenced by the vampire.
Protean: The ability to change shape to those of Nature. Protean changes
require a fair amount of blood and time. The basic powers are 1-Gleam of
the Red Eyes, the ability to changes the eyes so they can see in darkness,
2-Wolf's Claws, the ability to grow claws like those of a wolf, 3-Earth
Meld, the ability to become one with natural Earth and thus protected from
the sun (natural EARTH, not concrete or rock), 4-Shadow of the Beast, the
ability to assume the form of a wolf or bat, and 5-Form of Mist, the
ability to become mist, unharmable by weapons or fire. Higher level pwers
enable the vampire to become insubstansial, while highest power enables a
vampire to do the incredible; make their body become like the sun itself.
Quietus: The art of silence and death. Basic abilities include 1-Silence
of Death, the ability to invoke silence at will, 2-Weakness, the ability
to touch a vampire and make them physically weaker, 3-Disease, the ability
to infect a target with a supernatural disease that leaves them weak and
frail, 4-Blood Agony, the ability to turn blood into a painful poison to
vampires, which is typically used to coat weapons, and 5-Blood Essence,
the ability to drain a vampires life essence into a container with her
blood, so the vampire may be diablerized later. Higher powers enable the
vampire to prevent another vampire from using their blood, while the
highest power destroys all a vampire's blood- and prevents them from
inibiting new blood.
Serpentis: The Settite discipline of corruption and seduction. The basic
powers are, 1-Eyes of the Serpent, changing the eyes gold with black
irises which render a mortal immobilized while looking into them, 2-Tongue
of the Serpent, the ability to turn the tongue into a 18 inches serpents
toungue, which is razor sharp, 3-Mummify, the ability of Settite to assume
a torporous form immune to any damage but sun and fire, 4-Form of the
Serpent, the ability to become a large, six foot plus poisonous snake, and
5-Heart of Darkness, the ability of the Settite to remove their heart,
making them immune to staking and resistant to frenzy. Higher powers
include the ability to obsess or tempt another totally, while the highest
power is the ability to place a mark of utter Damnation on another, so
hideous none will have anything to do with the Marked.
Thaumaturgy: Vampiric magic. Formally divided into two catagories, paths
and rituals, Thaumaturgy is a versatile and powerful discipline. Paths
construe immediate effects, such as creating fires, causing sleep, etc.
Rituals are more like spells, taking anywhere from a few seconds to hours
and days. Rituals are generally the more powerful of the two. There are
a number of Thaumaturgical paths, but the most common is the Path of
Blood, which enables a vampire to taste and understand blood, steal it
from others, concentrate it to temporarily lower generation, and boil the
blood of another. Other paths include The Lure of Flames (the creation of
fires, from a candle to a conflaguration), Movement of the Mind
(telekinesis, which also enables a vampire to fly), and Weather Control
(creating fog to creating hurricanes, commanding lightening to strike).
There are other paths, some which deal with control of water, spirits,
elements, sleep, electricity, and even more unusual powers. There are
countless rituals. The Tremere control the use of this power in the
Camarilla, while some Sabbat know Thaumaturgy. The Conclave has a high
number of wielders of Thaumaturgy.
Vicissitude: The art of fleshcrafting. The strange discipline of the
Tzimisce, Vicissitude is in many ways like a disease, as it affects the
vampire's mind and warps their bodies in bizarre ways. The basic powers
are 1-Changeling, the ability to mold the flesh of one's face to any human
form, 2-Fleshcraft, the ability to mold the flesh of oneself or another to
any form desired, 3-Bonecraft, the ability to mold and alter bones,
4-Horrid Form, the ability to assume the form of a seven foot monster
covered with a slick oil, which has spines across the back, clawed six
fingered hands, and a mishappened head, and 5-Inner Essence, the ability
to turn the body of the vampire into blood, thus destroying and recreating
limbs and body at will. Higher powers include turning the vampire's blood
to acid, while the highest power allows the vampire able to reform the
body after death, making the vampire unkillable. In 2035, the Conclave
has declared open warfare on all those who possess Vicissitude, claiming
it is in truth a supernatural parasite which infects and consumes the soul
of a host, turning them into a puppet. Whether this is true or not
remains to be seen, but the Conclave seems to have an incredible amount of
evidence...
Other disciplines, such as Mortis, Litheria, Imperium, and others shall be
covered later.
Paths of Enlightenment, Roads, Sects, and their practices shall be covered
later.
Was that Lexicon too long? confusing? Sorry about that. Just trying to
provide some background for BGC fans and WoD fans.
Now, on with the 'fic!
"How does one manipulate? Do you not mean, what is the best way to
manipulate another? That is simplicity itself. Give them what they think
they want, let them believe they are wiser and more intelligent, let
them try to achieve their goals. Only offer when you have sabotaged their
efforts, unbeknownst to them, left them empty, and brought them back from
the Abyss. The collar fits best when the animal has willingly placed it
about their neck."
-Lasombra, 3rd generation, founder of Clan Lasombra, speaking to an
unknown neonate
"Why is Genom great, Mason? Because we are the best. The only one. We
cut away all competition, providing the best deal to the customer, without
them realizing they add to the continuous cycle. Our power grows each
time we defeat another corporate or country. Everyone wants power, to be
the greatest or close to greatness. That is why Genom's customers fight
so strongly for our products, our patronage. And that is why they are
MINE."
-Quincy to Brian J. Mason
"Bahh! Politics is simple: tell your lessers what to do, impale those who
dare disobey, and get on with business of real import."
-Tzimisce philosophy
"The glass throne is most comfortable when the king believes he sits on
stone. It is good fun when you make it shatter."
-Malkavian proverb
"But even more fun is wrap those who are puppetmasters within their own
strings and watch them choke on their own plots."
-Malkavian proverb
"Why do people do bad things? Well... because they are mean."
-Any child
"I am called cruel, called murderer, christened "Impaler", but it was not
for evil I did these things, not in the beginning. I did not help
establish the Camarilla for it to become an oppressive order, nor help
create the Sabbat for them to become butchers. I did not join the Inconnu
to remove myself for the world, to run away. I did all that I have done,
at heart, for good, to make the world a better place. And that is why
evil is done; it is not people, not events, not actions, merely
conflicting views of what is good. And it is unfortunate that most
consider my good to be evil."
-Vlad Tepes, 6th generation Tzimisce
"Flowing blood is proof that you live,
if it is done for the sake of those you love..."
-"Bara no Soldier", BGC Episode 5: Moonlight Rambler
Night Sabers
A BGC/WoD:VTM Crossover/Fusion
Written by Me
Part 5: Fateful Decisions and the Darkness Descent
The red 1954 Mercedes-Benz 300SL replica pulled into the
underground garage of the Silky Doll headquarters store and shipping
outlet, parking beside the pristine white twin that occupied the space to
the right. With a slight catch, the vehicle shut off, the pistons ceasing
their pounding into the hot chamber, the sound of their last friction
whispering softly despite the wet lubrication, the last shudder of the
fiery explosions dying away, as the gasps for air faded, leaving a slow
shudder for the engine, into immobility and quietness. It's task complete
the machine cut the flow of electicity through it's formerly active
circuits and wires, sealed the gas tank, and prepared to stand ready at
attention for the caress of it's mistress's touch across the button that
would jolt it to alertness, wary against thieves.
"Well, here we are", said Sylia, as she turned on the car security
system before turning to Mackie, "Welcome home."
Grinning, Mackie replied honestly, "Yes, it is good to be home."
With that statement there hung an uncomfortable silence for a few
second, before they all started to pile out of the car, taking a few
minutes to stretch for the enforced captivity in the vehicle, enforced by
traffic more than distance. After taking Mackie's carry-on bags from the
trunk, they walked through the underground parking garage to the elevator.
Already, there was a small group of women waiting for the elevator to
arrive. A little unsure, Mackie descided to make small talk with his
sister and friends.
"So, I hear the place was renevated since last time I was here.
I heard it looks great."
Mistake.
Immediately, the group of heads owned by the women swung toward
him, eyes appraising and accusing at the same time, and Mackie realized
what he had just said, and how it could be construed. Flushing bright red
as both Priss and Nene enjoyed a few chuckles at his expense, Mackie tried
to correct the misunderstood statement, saying "What I meant to say-"
Just then, the elevator arrived, and with the 'ding' of the bell
went his chance to save face. The women walked in, shooting him
scandalized glances, murmuring amongst themselves, while the younger
ones pointed and giggled. The door shut, rising towards the store.
Turning to a laughing Priss and Nene -even his sister had a smirk
on her face-, Mackie suggested with as much dignity as possible, "How
about the rear entrance."
Turning on heel, he took his own suggestion as he headed to where
the loading dock accessed the parking garage. He heard some fast paced
steps before he felt an impact as Nene snuggled into his side. Mackie
tried to look stern down at her impish upturned face, but failed, and he
grinned ruefully down at her, slowing his stride to allow his sister and
Priss to catch up.
The receiving area had changed quite a bit, but that was to be
expected. He could still see the old area, where he had spent time
working on his projects, trying to make faster bikes and cars. The
ceiling had gotten much taller, and he could tell that this was the
flagship for his sister's lingerie enterprise, cargo containers being
stacked, stored, and shipped both in and out. Several trucks were in the
loading area, their engines burning the synthohol, though one was
apparantly out of tune, the noise echoing in the chamber. A few workers
and shippers moved about.
"Looks like you are ready for the big push into the big leagues,
eh Sis?", asked Mackie.
"Something like that. Actually, the groundwork has always been
there, I just finished consolidating it into a single
'psuedo-conglomerate' with standardized overhead and regulations. The
trick, of course-"
"Was avoiding the anti-Monopoly laws? Let me guess, Genom has a
small, overlooked department-"
"-and I don't actually have legal ownership of associate franchise
rights, merely a non-federated association of mutual entrepaneurs",
finished Sylia with a grin.
Which was mirrored by Mackie, who had to admire his sisters
cleverness.
Of course, the other two members of the party were lost in the
banter and business byplay between the siblings, Nene with a puzzled look
on her face, while Priss looked pissed as she broke into the conversation,
"Hey now, enough of this! You two trying to make up for Linna not being
here?"
They all shared a laugh at that joke, though Mackie's laugh fell
short as his danger sense tingled, and he noticed the security boomers
making rounds. Noticing this he turned to Sylia, "What's with all the
security?"
Priss looked disgusted and angry at the same time, while Sylia
said, "A small problem with a break-in. What we think is a covert
industrial espionage boomer from Genom is trying to steal samples of our
Fall line."
Mackie looked at his sister incrediously while she tried to stop
the giggle she felt bubbling up from the look he was giving her. "A, a,
panty thief!?!", he gasped out.
Nene and Sylia giggled this time, and Mackie saw Priss flushing
scarlet with embarrassment and anger. Concerned, Mackie asked, "Are you
alright, Priss?" At that, Nene and Sylia began to laugh harder as Priss
got redder.
Struggling for words, Priss bit out, "The damn little boomer stole
some of mine, OK?", glaring at her fellow two Knight Sabers. Sylia had
gained some control, and a relatively straight face, while Nene was still
laughing.
Puzzled, and trying to feel his way through the situation, he
asked, "I don't understand. If it was just trying to steal secret-"
Both Sylia and Nene started laughing as Nene explained to the
confused Mackie, "It stole them _while_ Priss was wearing them!"
"Oh", said Mackie softly, as he saw Priss turn away from them,
arms shaking as she clenched her fists in impotent rage. Try as he might,
it was only through extreme self-discipline that Mackie did not break into
laughter like Nene and Sylia. Mackie came forward to touch Priss on the
shoulder.
She looked up at him, and he could see the humiliation in her
eyes. With a caring smile, he said, "Don't worry, it's no big deal", as
he subtly Dominated her.
Priss's face brightened almost immediately, and she wiped away the
forming tears, turning back to the group, her outlook already brightening.
Mackie felt very good about himself.
There was no trace of laughter as they returned, realizing how
Priss felt, they silently showed their understanding by saying nothing as
they continued to the storage rooms. Unable to let it die, Mackie asked,
"What does it look like?"
Priss smirked and handed him a sketch of the culprit, and Mackie
did a double take at the appearance of the boomer. Resembling nothing
more than a whizened and wrinkled midget of an old man, it looked like
something out of an anime. Priss grinned at his expression of disbelief,
before returning the picture to the wallboard.
"It was probably defective, as it didn't even accomplish any
industrial espionage, stealing used undergarments, none of our newer
styles. Whatever the case, it hasn't shown up, but I felt no need to take
chances", explained Sylia.
They had entered the storage room, a cavernous warren of a maze,
created by the assembly of storage containers. Sylia led them through the
maze, as Mackie gawked at the amount of lingerie, at the amount of women
that must be out their for them.... Brief visions danced; no actually
posed in his temporarily addled mind. Hey, he was dead, but some things
still lived on, unable to die.
"M'am, excuse me m'am! Miss Stingray", cried out a young man in
a red baseball cap turned around, waving a clipboard at Sylia. Mackie
tensed slightly; his training and harsh unlife had taught him that
anything could be a weapon.
Sylia waited until he reached them, panting for breath a little.
"What is it, Kintaro?", she asked.
"The new shipment came in. I placed it with the 3rd out shipment
for next week. Here is the rest of the schedule", he proudly thrust
forward the clipboard.
Sylia scanned it briefly, before returning it, "Good work. Leave
it on my desk before you leave tonight."
"HAI! Miss Stingray!", he bowed before retreating.
Mackie caught the look in his eye as they continued, recognizing
the look of a kindred spirit, as Kintaro had been watching the females of
the group with an attention Mackie was familiar with.
"Who was that?", Mackie inquired.
"Who, Kintaro? He has taken over receiving during the crisis
when the last manager left. Actually, though I initially had my doubts, he
has turned out to be quite excellent", his sister explained.
Nene piped in, "Yeah, he's always so energetic, talking about
learning this and studying for that."
Priss was a little more scornful, "Hmph! He's probably one of
those rich kid golden boys who is out exploring the world. He's a
pervert, that is what he studies." Looking over at Mackie, she commented,
"Probably came to study under the master, only to find him gone." Nene
giggled at that.
Mackie looked mock-offended as he commented self-rightuously,
"Hey! I wasn't that bad, was I?"
The three Knight Sabers looked seriously at each other, Mackie,
each other again, before turning to Mackie to answer, "Yes."
Running a hand through his hair, he replied rogueshly, "Yeah, I
was, wasn't I?"
They all shared a laugh, and took the elevator to the living
quarters in the higher levels above the store.
The living quarters section, specifically the family room, looked
like something out of a Perfect Homes magazine. The plush leather couch
and ornate wooden table constrasted nicely with the deluxe home
entertainment system and modern art. It looked very artificial and much
too perfect; in short, just like his sister herself, Mackie thought
ruefully. Placing his bag on the kitchen counter and his coat over one of
the chairs, Mackie stretched a little (not that he needed to), and walked
over the telecom. Punching in a few buttons, he noted that the luggage
had already arrived, and was waiting for him downstares. He ordered it
sent upstairs to his room, before punching in a secret number to check for
messages. Two, eh? He would have to check them later, as the others were
finishing freshening up and preparing refreshments.
"Something to drink?", his sister asked.
Shaking his head, Mackie turned off the telecom, and answered, "No
thanks." He couldn't drink anything besides blood anyway. His stomach
was as dead as himself.
"Anything cold", said Priss, as Nene piped in, "Me too."
Sylia brought out three glasses full of iced lemonade, and both
Nene and Priss eagerly accepted the frigid containers, gulping down the
chilled liquid, enjoying the air conditioning in the apartment, fanning
themselves to cool down. Global warming and an unusually blistering
summer had made the entire town miserable. Boomer incidents had been on
the uprise, and even more people were dying from heat stroke and
exhaustion related maladies. However, the room was a blissful escape from
the oppresive heat, and they all took a while to just sit back and enjoy
it.
A beeping and a ding interupted their repase as the bell sounded,
announcing that there was someone at the door and that a call was
incoming. Mackie stood up, waving the others down as he said, "Don't
worry, I'll get the door." Moving as quickly as possible, he moved to the
door, trying to get out of the telecom camera. Too late, he realized, as
Sylia commanded, "Receive." He could hear the voice of Linna as the
telecom channel opened on the giant screen, "Hi everyone. Hey, where is
Mackie?"
Mackie felt the power in his blood burn as he moved with increased
speed for the door. Damn, damn! He was a fucking Lasombra, and couldn't
be seen in mirrors; or cameras and pictures. The best way to avoid the
situation was to head out of there. He quickly opened the door, snatching
the packages from the servant boomer holding them with the supernatural
speed of the panicked, his Potence easily hefting the heavy bags, placing
them in a pile before closing the door swiftly.
"Mackie is right... hey, Mackie, where you going, Linna's on the
phone. Don'tcha want to say hi?", asked Priss.
"Ummm..", Mackie said, desperately fumbling for his pre-planned
excuse. Using the excuse that surgery was keeping him from being
presentable was no longer believable. His backup was, umm his back up
was...
"Mackie?", asked Nene. He could hear her starting to get up as
she headed towards him, the noise carrying to his heightened senses over
the conversation Priss, Linna, and Sylia was having.
This was bad! Desperately looking over his shoulder, his eyes
passed a hole in the wall; dammit, it was a _mirror_! That would be hard
to explain. Excuse, excuse! (A simple lie, based off what should be, is
the best falsity). Now what would he be doing normally at a time like
this? Aha! The presents!
"Don't come closer! I have some, ah, gifts I picked up. Some of
the wrapping tore off; I need to fix it!" Yeah, right, smooth one
Stingray, that was probably the worst thing to say. Nene, like most
precocious people, would be curious enough to peak.
"Oh, OK", replied Nene. Nene, Nene, Nene. I was taught by the
Lasombra. Learn to lie a little better. He waited, making some noise
among the packages.
As he expected, a mop of read hair with emerald green eyes and an
evil little grin peered around the corner, her face like that of a child
with a hand in the cookie jar. She gave a short "Eeep!" as he waged a
finger under his nose, glaring at her. "No peeking", he admonished.
Phew, one problem taken care of for now. He carefully moved the
collection of packages to the side, searching for his presents admist the
considerable pile of luggage. He carefully tore some of the wrapping on
one of the packages, then gathered them as best as possible, waiting. In
a few seconds, as he knew, the money-hungry Linna felt the pressure to
return to the battle of the stock market, quickly making an excuse. By
the time she was signing off, he was entering the room, arms laden with
packages.
Nene bounced forward, her hands already rubbing together, "Ooh,
which one is for me?", eager.
Priss and Sylia were both looking on as though they didn't care,
but he could sense their eagerness. He smiled a little; the patents and
research he had done while in Germany had really paid off. He hoped they
would like their presents. He placed them as carefully as possible on the
coffee table in front of him.
"Hmm Mackie, which one is mine? Hmm?", Nene insisted.
Mackie laughed. "Just a minute, OK? I have one for Linna and
Dr. Raven, but neither of them are there right now. Perhaps I should
hand these out la-"
There was a click as the TV came on, music blaring some catchy
idol singer pop beat. An anime was on, showing power armored figures
jumping around blowing away demonic-looking creatures that he supposed
were boomers. He was about to turn away, when he noticed something...
familiar.
There was the sound of flesh striking flesh as Priss slapped her
hand to her forehead, groaning. Nene started to giggle as she said, "Look
it's your favorite show Priss!" Priss began to search around, muttering
"Where is that damn controller?"
Noting the byplay between the two, Mackie started to pay more
attention to the program. Is seemed like a standard anime show, like one
of those he had watched when younger. But why was this show causing such
comment? Then the main character appeared, wearing shades, jacket, shirt,
and jeans, so familiar? Who was it? Then the title was announced in the
familiar voice, "Captain ADP and the Police Rangers."
"Ins-spector McNichol?", he said, disbelieving.
"Tee-hee, Priss's boyfriend's Captain ADP! Priss's boyfriend's
Captain ADPee- umph!", Nene's tirade was cut short by Priss's elbow before
she rushed forward to turn off the television. "He is NOT my boyfriend!
Why did that thing turn on? Where is that damn controller?", Priss glared
about.
Sylia carefully hid the remote behind her backside.
"What was that all about?", wondered Mackie aloud. Now that he
thought about it, McNichol did have a good voice as a seiyuu.
"The ADP has gotten rather popular, actually. The anime show has
helped considerably in this venture. Public popularity and the amount of
revenues generated by the show from royalties have made Captain McNichol
very popular at the ADP. There are actually several fan clubs dedicated
to him, though he does not appear to recipricating their feelings", Sylia
explained.
"Hah!", exclaimed Priss, "Bastard just loves teenage girls
throwing themselves at him!"
"Now Priss, I've told you Leon doesn't like it. Everytime he
comes into work, he sneaks in disguised, and complains more than he works.
I swear, he-"
Again the TV came on, but this was a pre-programmed event by Sylia
for whenever a booomer rampage occurred. The TV announcer broke in
mid-broadcast "-just in. At this very moment, the ADP have cordoned off
an area in the Shinjuku district as perhaps two to five boomers rage out
of control. The area is one currently under construction; as a result,
the area is impossible for armored troopers or helicopters to enter.
Repeat, one person has been killed and seven injured, as construction
boomers and two unidentified terrorist boomers rampage in the sweltering
hea-"
Sylia turned off the program, already turning to her computer.
The others looked up as they recognized the serious expression on her
face. Both sighed and began to head to the changing room.
Mackie felt the old pain clutch at his heart, the old fear welling
up in him. She was going out again. Only this time he had two people to
worry about, both very special to him. He remembered when he was younger,
waiting anxiously at the radio to make sure his sister was alright. But
now it was Nene that he worried about. He stared at the door she had gone
through.
"Hey. Don't worry; it's only some low class boomers, we'll be
fine", his sister said softly as she grasped his shoulder briefly, before
continuing to the changing room after her fellows.
He felt the familiar emptiness as he stood alone in the room. He
had a brief, mad inspiration to go run off and suit up in his own clunky
support suit. But he knew why his sister had chosen to go on this
mission. Tactical exercises that had been drilled into him made it simple
to understand. The close quarters of the collapsed building the
construction boomers had been working on made use of the clunky Hardsuits
by the ADP impossible, and the isolated location made use of foot officers
suicidal. The ADP was going to get burned any way they went in. And that
is why his sister was making the call. Then he felt a presence enter the
room and he looked up.
Nene stood before him with her hands behind her back in one of the
new interface suits for the new hardsuits, and she looked good in it. But
that was far from his mind as he realized she could tell what he was
feeling. He tried to smile and she smiled back faintly.
"Ahh..." both of them said at the same time.
There was an uncomfortable silence between the two, before Nene
flushed and bowed, holding forward a small wrapped package, "Here; I have
a present for you too. Just promise not to open it before I get back."
Mackie grabbed the package and she turned to leave, not looking at
him, still flushing. His Beast spoke to him as she walked away, LEAVING
HIM!
Mackie's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in an iron grip. She
had only a second to feel startlement and the ache in her wrist before she
was hoisted up and against his body, his arms enveloping her in a tight
embrace that pressed her hard against him. She heard his voice, thick and
quivering with emotion as he whispered heavily in her ear, "Just promise
me that you WILL come back to me." Then she felt a pressure under her
chin as her face was forcibly raised so that his descending lips could
meet hers and mash hard against them. Her heart began to beat at a
lightening fast pace as her toes curled up in the undersuit for what
seemed like an eternity. Finally the pressure was lifted and she stepped
away, shaken, caution and love warring for dominance.
Mackie's eyes seemed to burn with dark passions as the rest of his
face appeared covered in shadows, even within the well lit room. Darkness
seemed to surround him, carressing him even as his eyes caressed her. He
seemed larger than life. She stumbled back, emotions and feelings within
her swirling madly.
Mackie sighed as she left, wondering if he had overplayed his
affection, when he noticed the shadows moving around him, carressing his
body. Not for the first time he sighed with resignation and realization;
he had let his Beast rule his emotions and his shadows had come out to
play. The shadows lazily acknowledged, continuing their swirling antics.
They were showing off again.
(What did I do this time?), he asked them.
They swirled about, giggling and whispering to him. They were
puzzled by his regret at the actions they informed him of having done.
They didn't understand. Their morality and sense of relationships was
very alien. Shadows were strange, unpredictable, like the fae.
They giggled as they began one of their silly chants about him,
singing in their alternating silvery peals of laughter and husky voices of
gravel. Trying to control his temper, Mackie gave up and yelled at them
mentally, (For the last time, I am not Unseelie Fae!), Mackie refuting
their claim.
The shadows drew into himself, becoming unseen to any others,
retreating to mystery and seriousness.
<Oh yes, Shadowfriend, you *are*>, they said with certainty.
(Stupid shadows), thought Mackie.
* * * * * * * * * *
They could not use the Knight Wing, not in broad daylight. And
using the van would be a little too conspicous during the middle of
busy business. Besides, traffic would be atrocious.
Recognizing this problem, Sylia had recently devised a solution
to the problem. Far below the Silky Doll, there were a network of tunnels
through the sewers that were accessable from the Silky Doll. While not
very glamourous for heroic vigilantes, it was a lot faster than the
traffic above.
Having traveled via a secret tunnel, the Night Sabers exited at an
old junkpile owned by Sylia, near the site of the incident.
* * * * * * * * * *
They were gone, and Mackie found himself bored and alone, Nene's
gift still in his hand. What to do, what to do...
(Time is must precious; never waste it.)
With a sigh, Mackie went to his luggage, move it into his room,
unpackaging what he needed and wanted out. Two bags full of souvenirs
went to one side. Clothes over there. Best get changed, the suit was a
little too formal. Nice for first impressions, but not for casual
conversation. Besides, suits and ties were uncomfortable and stuffy in
the damn heat; he put on a tank top, grabbed a simple jacket, and a pair
of pants. He retrieved liquid ceramic knife he had smuggled past security
at the airport, along with the other accessories, the two wooden stakes.
While he was at it, he fished the garotte wire from his hair. That done,
he piled the collection in a hankerchief, and placed the lot in one of the
bags full of souvenirs. That done, he moved the luggage into a nice
pile, when he heard something rattle. Something he had tried to forget.
His heart clenching, and with trembling hands, from the tidal
surge of emotions, he slowly removed the near-forgotten case from the
luggage, falling to his knees as he did so. He carefully opened the
simple, impact resistant plastic case. And gazed at his lost dream.
The gold ring was simple, two bands twisted together, a small, yet
beautiful diamond at the middle. He had worked for the money to buy it,
worked from the moment he had set eyes on it. It had been hard, balancing
both school and work at the same time. But it had all been worth it, when
he would present the ring to Nene and propose to her.
The shaking started as the voice of his mentor screamed (Don't
ever lose control, fool!). He ignored the voice as the emotions long held
back crested and overwhelmed him.
The tears of blood began to flow, running in crimson rivults down
his face, the only fluid left in the dead shell of his body. The sobs
wracked him, loud and heartfelt, as he wept bitter tears over his lost and
denied simple dream of happiness.
And, unnoticed, purple veins of power pulsed through Mackie.
* * * * * * * * * *
Sylia observed the chaos below from her perch above on the
gridwork of the other construction site, watching as the police
desperately tried to find some method of entrance to the collapse
building. She had been observing for a few minutes now, long enough to
witness the abortive attempt by ADP helicoptors to make a rapelling drop,
before the boomers had thrown iron gurters and fired RPG shells at them.
For terrorist boomers, they seemed to be well armed. They would have to
split up for this one. But what was the best way? Hmmm.
"Nene, link", Sylia ordered.
There was a slight hesitance before Nene said, "Hai", lauching her
probes at both Sylia and Priss.
"Keep cool Nene", admonished Sylia as she observed the data from
Nene's scans. The magnetic resonance imaging and pulse radar overlay
suggested that _there_ was the best point of entrance; they would be
split up, but close enough to come to one another's aid.
"Bah, this will be easy; we've been handling OOC boomers all
month", Priss boasted, "Hell, the ADP could take these boomers if they
hadn't holed up in this mess."
Nene was quiet for a few minutes before she answered, "Yeah."
"Don't worry, we'll be back to the love of your life in no time",
jested Priss.
"Priss!", complained Nene.
"Enough", ordered Sylia, "here is the plan", as she downloaded it.
"Knighto Sabers, Sanjo!"
They sprang into action.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mackie was seated at the kitchen table, in full control once more,
having cleaned up the mess he had made from crying. To escape the pain,
he began to engage in activities he was more familiar with, activities
that brought him some small measure of comfort. Before him were the bags
of souvenirs and his cell phone. He opened the bags, removing the
hankerchief-wrapped bundle before extacting curiousos, such as plastic and
plaster statues, pictures of Germany and Sweden, a snowing crystal ball,
and others. As he unwrapped them, Mackie thumbed open the phone, punching in
a number from memory.
The dial tone stopped, replaced by a matronly voice saying,
"You've reached the number of Agatha Smith. I am not home right now, so,
if you would, please leave your name and number at the beep, I'll get
back to you as soon as possible."
Mackie spoke in a clear and cheerful voice, "Hi Grandma. This is
Billy. I got your message and I should be able to make it for the
reunion. Hope everything is OK. Love you, bye."
Done reporting in to his Hand superiors, Mackie turned his
attention to another task. Grabbing one of the statues of a German woman
in traditional attire, he slammed it into the table, breaking the painted
plaster. From the remains, he withdrew the supporting tube of the
statuette, before getting up to clean up the mess of broken plaster. He
filled a bowl with warm water before sitting back down, placing the tube
in the water, kneading off any remaining plaster. The grabbed a small
clock from the bag, opened it, and removed some non-essential pieces from
the inner workings of the mechanical marvel, before setting it in front of
him, so he could keep track of the time. The tube was taken out, dried
and clean. Only one more part to go.
Mackie grabbed the plastic cards, similar to those used in
gambling, setting them on a towel he had triple folded. Removing some
chocolate bars, already melted from the heat as he he had hoped, he
smeared the chocolate across the plastic, leaving it for a few seconds,
then washing it off in the bowl of water. That done, he took some cheap
aftershave that he had removed from his overnight, and carefully lathered
it on the pieces of plastic with a toothbrush.
Almost immediately, a stench of chemicals, of burning rubber,
wafted up as the memory plastics began to revert their true forms, the
catalyst in the aftershave working in conjuction with the primer in the
chocolate. Mackie got up and turned on the fans, drawing the smell away.
This would take a while, so Mackie dialed another number.
"Yo, this is Kamazake Imports, what can I do for you?", an
abrasive voice said beligerently. Hmph, poor customer service.
Mackie held a voice coder over the phone, changing his voice to
that of a young adolescent. "This is 'S'. I believe you have an order
for me." Mackie hoped the child Assamite antitribu had fulfilled his end
of the bargain.
There was a gasp at the other end as the man, said, "Just a
second, 'kay?", the sound of a door being slammed, cutting off the
background noise, "Ah, is this 'S's associate Mr. S? Nice to meet you...
I mean, umm... Nice weather we are having?"
Mackie hated this amateurish spy shit, but played along, removing
the voice coder, "Yes, but it would be nice if we had more sun. Now, has
my shipment come in?", with an undertone of menace.
The man was scared. He knew what Mackie was. "Yeah, there was
some problems, but it came through. Payments already come through. A
reliable courier will deliver the goods. And-"
Mackie cut him off, "Good. See to it." He was about to turn off
the phone when the man broke in with a whining, wheedling tone of voice,
"Please Mr. S., wait. I've only got a week more, and I just ran out.
I've been loyal, good, I just need some more. I need some vit, man." The
man was practically begging like an addict; why?
Then it hit him. 'Vit', he had said; vitae, blood; this man was a
ghoul, and just about out of his supply. A ghoul would do anything for a
hit of the powerful vampiric blood; this one's problem was deeper, he had
said "only a week"; he must be just about to shift over, which could kill
an older ghoul. He was as easy to manipulate as a child.
In a cold voice Mackie said, "When the goods are delivered, we
will discuss bonuses." Mackie cut off the mans continued pleas with the
push of a button, and laughed. Sometimes it was good to be evil.
The plastic was finished reforming, and Mackie drew a sharp
modeling razor blade, carefully cutting out the pieces. It took some time
as the plastic was as tough as it was undetectable to scanners. Removing
a few ceramic screws from the bag, he carefully began to assemble the
device. Near completed, he dropped several thick candy canes into the bowl
of still warm water, then turned his attention to the device he was
constructing.
Finished, he held up the completed pistol. Midnight black,
undetectable to normal scanners, it was a poor weapon, but it would
suffice should he run into any problems. He loaded the weapon with the
caseless rounds that had been concealed in the thick candy cane, carefully
washing them free of the sticky sugar coating, before cutting away the
wraps around the individual rounds. The transparant rounds gleamed red
with the crystalized poisoned vitae that were the bullets of the rounds.
A beatiful weapon though, one he had invented with the help of Rin during
his intelligence operations in Paris. The child Assamite antitribu had
been a surprising individual; though young, he had an astonishing skill in
Thaumaturgy and incredible knowledge in engineering. Remembering
fondly the Assamite antitribu who had at first tried killed him, he read
the card that had been attached to the candy canes,
"Kill some bastards for me, your buddy, Koyabashi Rin"
Funny, he had crossed out a name before overwriting it. Looking
like S-H-I-(something?)-N maybe? Pity about the kid; in love with a
mortal mage from the Celestial Chorus was a relationship doomed to hell.
Who the hell knew. He hoped his silent aid had enabled his friend to make
his break from the Sabbat.
That done, he went to the computer core of the building, and
routed the internal cameras to a diagnostic cycle, indicating a failure
at, oh say thirteen minutes before they arrived home. That done, he
deleted the information, and reformated the storage areas he had just
altered, allowing the computer's AI to fill in the blanks he wanted. Just
a little more and there! All done. It would suffice until he could
insert a program to edit an overlay of his appearance. Now for the
supernatural.
Walking over to the center of the room, Mackie sat cross-legged
and began to focus his mind carefully, bringing the power of his blood to
it's peak in gradual waves. The arcane sylibuls left his mouth in a
continuous stream, the power rising and fall in his body. His hands began
a dance, weaving in time with his words and the magic.
An hour passed.
Mackie opened the eyes he had kept shut.
A single drop of blood lay on the tip of his forefinger. He went
to his room, keeping the magical rhythm singing in his head, before he
went to one of the windows. He swiftly, but surely crafted a magical rune
on each of the windowsills. They were tiny, but with each successful
inscription of blood, the light entering the room tapered of and refused
to enter, leaving the room in shadows. Excellent. Mackie relaxed,
letting the magic go.
The room was dark, and he had done everything he needed to, but he
was still empty. (Always be true to yourself). Yes, he knew, he was
merely making busy work, like he always had done, when they went out.
Sighing, Mackie cleaned up. He had learned long ago that listening to the
often erronious radio and TV just made things worse. So he sat on the
floor, absently sucking on Bloodstones from a bag full that he had made
for this express purpose. His own vitae was very rich, but he was sick of
the taste after awhile. Still, it did fill him up. But his thoughts
turned, as always, to the Knight Sabers.
He wondered if Nene knew he had built the barrier system in her
suit. It had taken him nearly a month to perfect, but he had been
constantly worrying about her when she went out on a fight. She had
assured him she was much better at fighting, but all he could remember was
the damage to her suit he had repaired. The shattered helmet from the
boomers back in 2033, the buckled plate on her leg from the TERK incident.
And Priss, did the woman who always teased him know who had
designed some of the weapons she used? The one who had spent hours
perfecting the escape mechanism on her suit when it failed several times
during the test runs.
And Linna. Did she known who had coded the algorithms for her
suit, to make it act like a second skin for her.
Then, of course there was Sylia. He wondered sometimes if she
realized that he had helped her on her mission so much only to keep her
safe, since back when she had started her crusade. He had kept a small
shrine since he was a boy, praying to anyone who would listen and could
keep her safe. That shrine was long since gone, though one still existed,
deep in his heart, where incense still burned, along with his hopes they
were all fine, and would stay that way.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ayanami Genma had long been dead. Long since abandoned the living
world. His world had become one of cruelty, of hatred and misery, of
insubstantial whisps of dreams and hopes. Yet it was the dream of getting
revenge on his boss that had kept him going, kept him "alive", fighting
his Shadow, existing in the Shadowlands.
But he had continued to exist long after his former boss was
ruined and dead, having paid for abandoning him in the hellish fires he
had set for the company to collect from the insurance. That hadn't been
very nice; but neither had been Ayanami Genma, as he had broken into the
abandoned offices that night to steal from his employer.
But even a being as cold as himself still had some remnant of
human decency, and thus he knew he had to do this. The truth had to get
out. He had watched them, the people, going about their ordinary lives,
ignorant of the behomoth descending upon them. He had pleaded with the
others, but no. The Heirarchy was to busy trying to save their decaying
power, like everyone else, trying to escape the Oblivion consuming their
world. Their was a taint on the Shadowlands, and soon it would come to
the mortal realm.
They had warned him against it, said it was dangerous, impossible.
But he had to warn them. Normal humans were nearly impossible to reach;
they could not see the webs that hung about them, spun by the insane
Weaver, that held them in it's static web of reality. His moderate powers
could not touch them. But the new beings, so full of potential. In them,
there was a weakening in reality, enough that his powers of Usurp could
control and touch them.
The others had warned against it, but he paid no heed. He had a
message he must tell them; he had found a voice, now all he needed was a
body. And thus Ayanami Genma had possessed 344282-G93, a Genom Model 13
construction boomer.
* * * * * * * * * *
Priss stalked forward as best she could, ignoring the body she had
found; it looked like the boomer had torn the arm from the socket of the
girl. Strong one, must have been a construction boomer. Still no sign
of the others having spotted anything. Still, best to be prepared. She
charged the handcannon on her right arm, activating the scanner perched on
her left shoulder, searching for her quarry.
* * * * * * * * * *
It had been disconcerting, alien, bizarre, nothing like his
memories of possessing humans. His first thoughts had -Deviancy in
Process 111204- the confusing buzzing as h -Checking. Copy Process 111204
to Memory- e found himself in the bizarre mind of a boomer.
-Process Override, Code 31. Error in sub#7stem 13&42.- Damn,
everything was so confusing. Wait, there were people -Visual Process set
to 3x120- running around, screaming. He had to tell them. The darkness
coming, he had to.
Unused to his new body, Genma's coprocessor control over gross
motor activity overcompensated, and what should have been a light grab
tore the arm from the girl, who stood still, gasping in shock at her
severed limb in his hand, before simply dying. He hadn't wanted to do
that-
The other construction boomers, simple minded, ignored the two
Yakuza terrorist boomers shooting up the sight, instead concentrated on
their compatriat who was violating his work schedule. Their CPUs
suggested a link up in order to solve the problem in their fellow.
Unfortunately, the Wraith possessed boomer quickly infected it's fellows,
who in turn infected the terrorist boomers who had tried to take control
of them. Chaos was the result.
* * * * * * * * * *
Sylia crept forward. The terrorist boomer was obviously some
second hand, recycled general purpose kit-bash. Still, the assault rifle
it possessed was deadly enough. She slowly brought her right hand
forward, cocking her wrist back, before opening fire, the pulse cannon
blowing two clean holes through the boomer. Her backpack jets lit aflame
as she leaped forward with her fellows, a blast from Priss disabling a
construction boomer that was repeated hammering it's own arm into scrap.
Battle was joined.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ayanami Genma started to awakeness as his Shadow mocked him.
Damn, he had blacked out -Cascade; Proce%s Code 23001 OvERfloW- and there
were people there. Realizing that something was wrong with this body
-Diagnostic report: 522-233- he ignored the incoming data -3443-
A boomer fell before him as he wracked his mind for a plan. The
perceptions were coming in spurts; time seemed to slow as a construction
boomer fell, energy blast striking it, then time went into rapid time.
The Model-9 cyberbrain was not top of the line by any stretch, with only
limited communciation ab-
Of course, communication! -Dialogue Window Open: A-Man B-Dog
C-Recharge D-Hello E-Build G-Construc- damn it, this was useless. What was
going on, this body feels so strange. I'm scared (his Shadow mocked him
even more), but I have to tell them. They have to know!
* * * * * * * * * *
Priss ignored the boomer mumbling in the corner for the moment,
not noticing the bloodstains on the arm. Nene had just finished the last
Terrorist Boomer; looking at them brought memories of Geo City and Adama
back to Priss. The rest of the construction boomers were a joke; they
were milling around, doing pointless and repetitive tasks. Whatever had
happened to them was pretty catastrophic; their actions made no sense.
The entire mission was a cakewalk, like she had predicted. Even
now, she walked about, casually dispatching the construction boomers too
stupid to know they were being executed.
* * * * * * * * * *
A red hardsuit -Proximaty Alert: Code 358- approached Genma as he
struggled with his body. He tried to speak to her "Water" -Code GHI-
"Leak" -Code VI-. Then he realized that the female hardsuit was pointing
a weapon at him. He couldn't let that happen. As gently as possible, he
tried to brush the arm away.
Again the coprocessor misinterpreted, the arm snaking out with
snake like speed to shatter her helmet, knocking her back -Code 11-234
Executed-. Damn, he didn't want to do that!
With a shock, Genma realized that the Shadowlands seemed distant;
his Shadow was winning! There was little time, he had to tell them, warn
them!. Ignoring the red suit, he stumbled forward trying to reach the
blue suited one.
* * * * * * * * * *
Priss looked on in horror as Nene fell away, her helmet shattered,
the sound mixing with Nene's scream in a terrible cacaphony as blood
sprayed from where the ceramic helmet armor had slashed her face.
Priss screamed out, "Nene!", moving to her friend.
Nene was in considerable pain, but rage tainted her thoughts, her
vision red not only from the blood filling her right eye. Her
Pulse-Strikers snapped up, charging.
Across the debris stricken ruin of what had been a completed
section of the building, Sylia raised both arms, pulse cannons firing.
* * * * * * * * * *
FLASH. A flash of light blanketed his vision as -Code 004: Damage
to Syste- he ignored the flashing bolts slamming into his chest. He had
to tell them. FLASH. -Code 004: Dam- Yes, he knew the proper words now!
"Wait!"
-Code FEW Executed- FLASH. -Code 004: Damage to Subsystems 3A-
"I Help You!"
-Code EGH Series Executed- -Code 004: Dam-
Something screamed in his body as Nene's Pulse-Strikers fried the
delicate circuits within his host body. He spun, vision going dim as the
visual systems went dead before reinitializing -Warning: Critical Systems
Failure: Code 911-
"I have come to warn you of the great dangerrrr...", croaked out
the barely functional boomer as it's voicoder failed, unnoticed by the
Night Sabers. This was it, he had to flee-
And couldn't.
The Shadowlands seemed like a mortal looking up at heaven, in this
case the shadow gates closing, denying him. His Arcanos failed, his
Shadow mocking him, trapping him in this body. Trying desperately to
move, searching for an avenue of escape, Genma could see the blue suit
walk forward, and he could only stare helplessly as the glowing muzzle of
the cannon on her arm reached a peak.
NO! It can't end like this! I have to warn you, of the Darkness
Descent-!
The cannon fired, and like the thirteen other Wraiths who had
tried this, the last thing he saw was the blue outline of his killer.
Ayanami Genma screamed as his laughing Shadow dragged his soul to
Oblivion.
* * * * * * * * * *
Somewhere deep within the heart of Genom Tower, a candle burning
with blue flame extinguished, while at the same time a magical sigil on
the back of 344282-G93 flared before vanishing.
"Damn", cursed Achika Atsuko-Giovanni.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mackie picked up the phone, preparing to listen to the messages he
had on his anonymous voice mail accout, when a sudden shiver ran through
him, tensing his arm, causing him to drop the phone. A brief image of
spraying blood, the scent of human ichor, they struck him for but a
moment, leaving him vaguely stunned.
(What was that?), he wondered, looking at his trembling hands. It
felt... different. Not like the pains that had been coming and going, not
like the touch of those of his clan on his being; no, it was like none of
those things. Maybe it was nothing. There was nothing to do now, at any
rate, so he ignored the event, storing the information for future
reference.
The messages were both business related, one mortal, the other
vampiric. His banker, Miss Vilheim, had called to give him a stock report
and the transfer of funds from one account to another. She was a
competent woman in her field, and thus he paid a hefty retainer for her
services. Above all, she was discrete.
The second message had been a series of numbers; a cypher for the
location where he would meet those in his Hand cell, tonight. Memorizing
the location, recording the transfer in his personal planner, Mackie
deleted the messages.
He found himself again waiting, the room cleaned. All he could do
is wait.
* * * * * * * * * *
"OH MY GOD! Nene, are you alright?!?", asked Priss, cursing
herself. Did Nene look alright?
Her face, what could be through the hole in the side of helmet,
was covered in blood. Priss could see the lacerations running down her
cheek; the eye was closed tight against the blood around it, twitching
occasionally as Nene moaned and sobbed.
"Nene, can you hear me? We have to get you out of here. Nene!",
Sylia said, urgency tinting her voice. She slapped Nene's hands away from
her face, "Don't touch it! There seem to be lacerations from the helmet
armor; rubbing them will only drive the fragments in farther!"
"Sss-sslyia, itt-t hurrr-tss", clenched out Nene, in an agonized
voice, full of pain now that the thrill of adrenaline from the battle had
left her.
"I know Nene-chan, I know", said Sylia as she tried to comfort the
young woman, difficult in a hardsuit. The sobs from the red-head pulled
at her heart. She looked over at Priss.
Priss looked into Sylia's shocked eyes before returning to
Nene. Priss felt sick. This sort of stuff should happen to her, not Nene!
She moved to the other side of Nene, restraining her right arm from moving
to touch her face.
"I-I can'tt seee in myy eye! I can't seeeee!", wailed Nene.
"It's OK Nene, it's just the blood and the head wound", comforted
Sylia, hoping what she said was true. Head wounds did bleed alot-
Sylia reached behind Nene's helmet, flipping a catch, and Nene's
helmet seal broke, draining the blood that had collected in the tight
confines of the headwear.
Priss felt sick as a small cascade of blood flowed out Nene's
helmet from the neck ring. "We've gotta do something, Sylia!"
"Agreed. Hold on tight Nene. Ready, Priss?". Priss nodded,
locking down her visor, as Sylia did likewise. Nene only sobbed in pain
as the two Knight Sabers ignited their jump jets, quickly navigating up to
the top of the collapsed ruin of the building.
Blinding light from the sun appeared, stunning the Knight Sabers
briefly before the photochromatic filters cut in, moderating the amount of
incipient visual radiation.
Around them were the ADPolice and various other people, reporters,
rescue workers, and the media. Several people were already pointing at
the two figures cradling a third who was stained in blood, a darker
wetness against her red armor.
"Shit! What do we do now, Sylia?", asked Priss, staring
apprehensively at the crowd around them.
"Head to the sewers. It is the fastest way", Sylia replied.
Nene broke in commenting, "I think my vision is getting better.
Instead of a big dark blur, all I see is a big light blur."
"Great Nene", said Priss distractedly. Why were the people
shouting and pointing at them? It wasn't as if the Knight Sabers were
anything new. Wait a minute; they weren't pointing at them, they were
pointing BEHIND them! Her proximaty sensors went off as she spun,
encumbered by Nene, as the badly damaged terrorist boomer lunged at them,
RPG pulse launcher pointed at them. (At this close of a range, we're
goners), thought Priss, as she tried to bring her cannon up for a shot.
No time-
A shot ran out, then two more, as the boomer fell back,
decommishened. Priss followed the shots, tracking them to their source.
Leon stood on one of the piles of rubble, backset against the sun
beginning to set, attired as usual in jeans, shirt, vest and sunglasses,
EarthShaker pistol smoking. "Leon", she whispered, realizing he had once
again come to her rescue. He wasn't a bad guy-
A loud rumble was heard as newsreporters and Leon's fan club ran
forward, shouting questions, screaming for attention, cameras at ready and
going into overtime. Priss felt her admiration and affection turn to
betrayal and disgust, pointedly turning away.
Leon saw Priss's reaction and sighed. Catching the White Saber's
attention, he nodded towards the Northwest, indicating the way was free of
distractions. He looked towards Nene, noting her condition, and jerked
his head head again. The white suited leader nodded, and the two carried
their wounded comrade home.
Leon sighed again, turning to his fan club and the press,
answering their questions, giving the Knight Sabers time to make a clean
break.
"Here we are with Inspector Leon McNichol, Captain ADP himself,
who just heroically saved the lives of the imperilled Knight Sabers and
good citizens of MegaTokyo with a stunning display of markmenship! Tell
me, Inspector-"
"Yeah!"
"GO CAPTAIN ADP!"
"Inspector McNichol! What do you thin-"
"LEON-SAMA!"
"I love you-"
"A few quest-"
"I want to have your ba-"
Leon sighed, and resigned himself to at least a half-hour of
hell as the questions continued to pour in.
Well, there's Part 5a. Part 5b will be out soon. I hope. Honest. Really.
Yeah.
C+C, as always, is appreciated. BGC fans, if I have made an glaring
errors, please tell me. WoD fans, the same to you.
Have a nice day ^_^.
Curtiss Nelson