-
(http://i381.photobucket.com/albums/oo252/Elmwood78/toronto_8.jpg)
-
Friday, October 15th, 1999 - 6:33 pm - Tisdale Apartments - Waylon
BP: 12/13 HP: 7/7 WP:4/4 SC:3 HUM 6
The sun had set no more than fifteen minutes earlier but Waylon was already dressed and ready to go. The looked at the painting he had finished only the night before. It had occurred to him that, after painting almost all the eyes of the Kindred in Hamilton, he had not painted his own.
He'd always considered self portraits to be incredibly vain but in this case he's felt the need to leave just a little bit more of himself behind. He packaged it and left it for one of Helen's ghouls to collect. He likely wouldn't see it displayed. In two weeks Hamilton was striking back at Toronto and with a traitor in their midst, it was likely to be a suicide mission.
He tossed his gym bag into the back of his car and slid behind the wheel. Technically it was a light truck, an El Camino but Donna had refused to accept that title, referring to it as a 'car on steroids'. He'd learned not to argue. Vampire though he was, Donna could pound him flat with only one hand, not that she would ever limit herself in that way.
Friday nights were their traditional practice nights, if a tradition could be forged in five months. The night before, Donna had called with what could only be called a warning not to be late so he was leaving earlier than normal, just to make certain he had time to grab some blood and make it to the training grounds in time.
(http://i180.photobucket.com/albums/x94/Shadowphile/wayloncarjpg.jpg)
(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y167/ladyjallyn/bartek9mg-2.jpg)
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 6:40 pm - Tisdale Apartment 502 - Butcher/Doug
HP: 7 (7) BP: 14 (14) WP: 4(5) Hum: 8 (8) SC: 4 (4)
It had been five months and Doug had settled into a routine in his new surroundings. He had managed to still incorporate his meditation and forms in his morning rituals, albeit occasionally abbreviated. Donkey Punch Mike seemed to have settled into his new life, although he wasn't always thrilled with it. He had managed to form a good working relationship with Waylon, which was nice nice since they were basically co-instructing/co-leading the practice and patrol sessions.
Donna had yet to come clean with him about all the details regarding the who, what, when and where of everything that was going on but he had come to trust her and was confident that if he did his job she would eventually let him in on what was going on. He still didn't have any solid evidence on who the leak was although he had a few suspicions. Nothing solid enough that he would even think about accusing anyone of but that just made it more frustrating.
Tonight's practice session should be interesting. Donna hadn't revealed anything but he was certain that tonight would be revealing. He had managed to procure a junker vehicle so Mike had transportation as well when Doug took his bike, not to mention when the bike just wasn't appropriate.
He cracked a beer and called out, "Hey Mike, you ready to roll? We need to be there ASAP tonight", before taking a long pull.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 6:40 pm - Tisdale Apartment 502 - Mike
Mike slipped on a black hoodie jacket and nodded. Training had given him something to focus on but he still wasn't comfortable in his skin, but at least he was able to control his hunger now and was no longer wallowing in self pitty over his condition, Instead it had been replaced with a cold rage.
Being able to eventually go into Toronto and fuck up some of the vampires that had done this too him would likely help him feel a bit better. "Lets roll Butcher."
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 6:41 pm - Tisdale Apartment 502 - Butcher/Doug
HP: 7 (7) BP: 14 (14) WP: 4(5) Hum: 8 (8) SC: 4 (4)
Butcher nodded back and took another long pull, absently tossing the keys to the junker at Mike. He tried not to go by Butcher much but the kid seemed to have stuck to it once he heard it. He even seemed to take the name Donkey Punch Mike in stride although he didn't take it well from much of anyone but Doug and Donna and even then, you could count on one hand the number of times that either Brujah had used that full nickname rather than just the shortened version of Donkey. Both versions were used either as terms of affection or reprimand, depending on circumstance.
It seemed somehow appropriate that Mike occasionally referred to him as Butcher. Not for Butchers decade long ties to the Angels but for the kind of relationship that had grown. They weren't truly intimate friends, the way many kindred treated their wards and they weren't sire and child, either, but they had a definite bond. They had each others back. in the past five months Mike had grown tremendously both as a vampire and as someone who had suffered a great tragedy but was overcoming it. Sooner or later the longer-term lessons would have to come. He couldn't invest himself so completely in his rage and revenge. Eventually, assuming he lived through it, he would be left needing to adjust all over again. If it went on too long, he would consume himself in his obsessive pursuit of it. Then again, Doug could say many of the same things about himself. Maybe they could find a path together.
"Separate vehicles tonight. Somethings in the air, don't know what. Keep your senses open and your mind calm. We eat on the run in the field tonight", he said, then drained his beer as he strode to the door.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 6:41 pm - Leaving Double Angel Studios - Angel
Blood Pool= 10/11 Willpower=3/4, Health=6/7 Humanity 6/6 Self Control 3/3
It had been a difficult few months for Angel. His businesses had been just outside the aread demolished by the blast but it didn't mean they'd escaped unscathed. He'd tapped every resource he had access to just to make sure he had enough to rebuild and still have capital available to invest in the rebuilding of Hamilton. Chaz's training had been a drain on his time, as had Grigor's education and Dee's 'indoctrination'. She wasn't fully ghouled, because he thought she was too young to be fully useful if frozen at her current age. Still, he'd followed the letter of the Prince's command, if not the spirit.
Donna's Scourge squad training had also taken up much of his time as well, as had trying to rebuild his herd. He'd managed to relocate the masage therapist he'd met before the Sabbat attack and had brought her. In an odd coincidence he'd also reconnected with Maria, the cleaning lady from the Henderson when he'd replied to an ad looking to sell a car. He'd ended up encountering her highly suspicious younger sister as well, who wanted to know what his interest in her sister was. She'd grilled him quite thoroughly, in the company of two friends. He'd added all three of them to his head as well, bringing it back up to a level approaching his pre-explosion numbers. The car had just been icing on the cake.
A midnight blue '86 Camaro IROC, it filled a multitude of roles. It was larger than his TR6 and could hold himself, Chaz, Grigor and Dee whenever there was a need for them all to travel together. It had a much larger trunk than the smaller car, which meant he could carry more gear when on one of Donna's patrols. And, of course, it appeased the Italian stereotype.
Grigor hadn't joined the Scourge squad and Mark hadn't seen fit to push any of the other Ventrue into it, so that left Angel to carry the Ventrue banner, not that he needed any urging. Even if it was another ball to juggle, Angel would have dropped any of a number of others before he let that one drop. He'd thrown himself into the training Donna had offered and he was more than willing to use it when he go into Toronto. He looked at the bag in the trunk before he closed it. His old life, his life before his Embrace was in that bag. There were two highly illegal firearms as well as several knives and a sawed off broom handle he referred to as a 'nigger beater'. It was a far older Angel in that bag, one that wanted to go into Toronto for revenge. The Kindred Angel, the Ventrue, knew there was no profit in vengeance. The mortal Angel was still alive enough to crave payback. Donna held the key and she would lead them into Sabbat territory. The ghosts of his family would finally rest in peace. That was assuming Donna chose him to be part of the attack squad. He still needed to impress her and he wouldn't impress her by being late.
(http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff142/RandomBit/Angel.jpg)(http://i180.photobucket.com/albums/x94/Shadowphile/spanish-guitarist-1.jpg)(http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff142/RandomBit/Angel.jpg)
(http://i180.photobucket.com/albums/x94/Shadowphile/Angelsmetallicamaro-1989-iroc-z.jpg)
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7pm - 278 East 44th Street- Mellisa
She sat in the small spare bedroom. The 10x14 room held a bed a computer desk with a PC and a dresser with a meager handful of clothes. A coffin sat in the side of the room a table cloth over it. She hated sleeping in it and tried to force herself to sleep in the bed, but every few nights she would have to force herself into the box.
The Prince had sent it for her keeper to give to her. She wasn't sure why but she woke up feeling more rested in that than she did the bed. Some habits died hard for her. She missed her family and her friends and her coven.
Moving to this house was a bit of a curse and a blessing as well. It was better than the apartments she was living with for the first month and a half. Still the place didn't feel like home.
She had been dealing with depression. Life as one of the undead had been difficult. Feeding freaked her out. Her gentle disposition on the world hadn't changed much. The fact that she enjoyed feeding to the extent she did terrified her. She cut human blood from her diet two months ago, but it hadn't made her feel any better.
Angelo had offered her work at his bar. It was part time and she worked mainly weekends for him waiting tables. She was thankful for the money but the job did little to lift her spirits.
Looking out at the dark sky she sighed as she pushed the curtains back. She remembered her attempt to take her life back in late August. The pain of the morning sun and the days upon days it took to recover. Sunlight would not be an easy or fast death. She felt as if she had no purpose or right to be alive and yet here she was living each night knowing she could never change or apparently go back to her family.
Her keeper was a crazy nut as well. Some nights were better than others, but for the past month she chose most nights to hole herself in her room and read. She knew it was likely time for her keeper to wake up, but she wasn't sure who she would be facing that evening. Everyday it was like talking to someone new.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:00pm, 278 East 44th Street, Baymaster Commorancy - Alan
He had dressed in a dark lounge coat with matching trousers and a light waistcoat and shirt. He still missed a good mustache and beard but he would never know either of those again since Alan had been clean shaven when he was embraced.
He had been sketching a possible variant for a wireless power transmitter. It irritated him that he had no room to work in the new hovel that they currently occupied with their adopted child but he well knew the need for secrecy. Although most of the ideas from his mortal life had been stolen he himself had been cast into the heap of history's forgotten genius's, he had outlived them all and now that he had eternity to work the fools like Edison and his ilk would be the ones lost to the memory of humankind and become a mere curiosity even among the long memories of the kindred.
The thought put him in a good mood as he headed into the living area and began thinking about what needed to be done this evening. Well, first things first, he should check on his young charge. When he reached the living room he called out, "Mellisa, my dear, are you awake? I was feeling somewhat peckish. Would you like to dine in or out this evening?"
He did hope that tonight would be the night that she would give up this ridiculous inhibition against drinking human blood but he did not count it likely. If that was her preference, so be it but he needed to be completely confident that she could feed on her own when needful despite personal preferences without going into a frenzy and her irrational refusal didn't instill that confidence.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:00pm, 278 East 44th Street, Mellisa
"Go out I'll stay in." Mellisa replied sullenly as she closed the windows curtain. The room she sat in was dark. Which was good. Since she had been embraced she noted that light hurt her eyes but that she was more than happy to stay in dim light. "I'm not hungry today." She added quickly which was not true. She was hungry pretty much all the time. All she thought about when she was out was blood. It was incredibly hard to work at the bar with the loud music but was thankful for the dim lighting. But all those hot blood filled bodies that writhed to the music and pounded back alcohol were always a temptation.
Thankfully she hadn't hurt anyone but her thoughts never stayed far from it.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:01pm, 278 East 44th Street, Baymaster Commorancy - Alan
He paused a moment to roll his eyes. Clearly, she was in one of those moods. He hated it when she was like this.
"Come now, Mellisa, things are going to have to change. Hiding in your room every night will not make things better for you, nor is lying to me. I may not know a great deal about the your clan bloodline but you're a vampire and you're extremely young. Of course you're hungry. The longer it takes you to be comfortable with your new dietary requirements, the longer it will be before you can ever be out on your own. You need to be able to feed on humans if need dictates and I need to be able to watch you until I become comfortable that your self-control is well in hand. My counting rabbits in a hutch has gone on for far too long as it is. Honestly, while it is remarkable that you have worked in Angel's bar this long without an incident it doesn't exactly make me comfortable."
He was being gentle and trying to draw her out. He didn't want to spook her. He felt he had the perfect solution for the problem. He hadn't yet actually met Cantina yet but she had been fetching and disposing of bunnies, dry-cleaning and other odd and end chores for some time now but he hadn't actually met her. He'd invited her over this evening to meet her personally. Mellisa could dine in, he could watch her begin gaining the experience she needed and, assuming she survived, Cantina would know she was one small step away from being taken care ofproperly again. Everyone would win.
He took a moment to be proud of himself. Everyone was always telling him what an inconsiderate, thoughtless, selfish, etc, etc, etc, he was and here he was going out of his way to ensure that everyone was taken care of properly for very little personal gain himself and a great deal of effort. He realized he had every right to be pleased with his behavior.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:04pm, 278 East 44th Street, Mellisa
For several seconds she was silent but the annoyance of it all got to her. Who was he to lecture her on her feeding habits.
"If you weren't so bat shit crazy you would know that I've fed from people." Mellisa fumed as she poked her head out of her room her eyes squinting against the bright light in the hall way. "Like a dozen times. I hate it when you are in this mood. You really need to start wearing name tags so I know who the fuck I am dealing with I can't take this shit! And ANGEL says there's nothing wrong with me eating rabbits."
The young vampire was angry she began to cry out of frustration. She had fed it was true but it was with a much softer persona than the one Allan was wearing tonight.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:05pm, 278 East 44th Street, Baymaster Commorancy - Alan
His eyes widened in anger at the outburst by the child in front of him. Before he realized what had happened he found himself face-to-face with the girl, her shoulders pinned against the wall, "Bat shit crazy", he said softly, "Mad fool, am I", he asked her quietly, "throughout the ages, true genius has labored under the names madness, mentally deficient, cursed by the gods." His voice had grown from quiet to strident as the words came faster, "Tormented, abused, laughed at, forced to work in secret if they could work at all, burned as heretics, treated like this, not by their equals, but by the ignorant, insipid masses, the tiny men frightened of losing the pathetic power that the rest of their kind had given them in order to avoid having to think at all." The words were pouring from his mouth in a loud angry torrent. "You wish to know who I am?? I am Nikola FUCKING TESLA!!", he screamed at her, "AND I AM NO ONE'S FOOL!"
He realized that he was screaming, and had been for some moments, but he could barely hear himself over the roaring babble that filled his skull. He released the now forgotten Mellisa and clutched at his head, unable to hear, see, or even think. He thought he stumbled backwards, but realized he was no longer even sure if he were standing or lying on the floor.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:07pm, 278 East 44th Street,
The door bell rang at the domicile shattering the stunned silence that had fallen over the house.
Mellisa sniffed quietly and shakily got to her feet "I'm going to wash up." she mumbled as she headed the the bathroom to remove the blood from her face.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:07pm, 278 East 44th Street, Baymaster Commorancy - Alan
He opened his eyes to see the woman that, until now, he had only seen occasional glimpses of. She was pretty and nice but seemed so sad whenever he saw her. Now she was shaking and he saw that there was blood on her face as she turned away from him. His breath was coming fast and his heart was pounding. Something was horribly wrong and he had no idea what but her face was bleeding and he had no idea what to do.
He started to take a step toward her and tentatively held started to reach for her, "Ma-ma-ma-ma'am? P-P-Please, c-could you tell me whats wrong? Your- your face is bleeding and I'm scared. I don't know whats going on and I don't want to be left alone", he managed to stammer out. He was afraid he was going to start crying but he knew he shouldn't do that. He couldn't remember why but it was very bad to do that.
When the doorbell rang again, he started and turned, his eyes going wide. He whipped his head back to the woman with a panicked look.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:08pm, 278 East 44th Street,
Mellisa was emotionally not in the mood for the Jekyll and Hyde routine she shook her head and close the bathroom door on Alan's face.
Again the door bell rang. A moment later it was followed by a soft knock.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:09pm, 278 East 44th Street, Baymaster Commorancy - Alan
Nonononononono! Alan was terrified. He had no idea what was going on and the only person that he recognized was bleeding and slammed the door in his face leaving him alone with whatever had done that to her face and whoever was knocking at the door, assuming they weren't one and the same person. He did the only thing he knew how to do in such a situation. He hurried to the closet, shut himself inside, sat down and buried his face in his knees, hoping fervently that whoever was at the door would just go away.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:10pm, 278 East 44th Street, -
The door bell rang again after a minutes pause it was followed up once again but a much more aggressive knock. It wasn't a cop knock but it was much less timid and was loud enough to be heard inside.
Mellissa sniffed from inside the bathroom hearing the noise. "Dooooooooooooooor!" She hollered as she did her best to wipe away the blood tears on her face. Tonight just got better and better.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 6:41 pm - Tisdale Apartment 502 - Dana
HP: 7/7 BP: 13/13 WP: 5/5 Hum: 5/5 SC: 2/2
The last five months had kept Dana more or less contented with the current situation. Training hard and bonding with the other members that made up not only the Brujah clan but the rest of the Hamilton Camarilla as well. Hamilton was a strange place indeed. She'd continued to stay with Doug and Mike, partly for convenience sake and partly because she had grown quite a fondness for the two, Mike's anger reminded her a lot of herself and many of the people she'd known in the past. Doug was turning out to be quite the good mentor to him as well, she respected that. And though she wasn't going to admit it, it was nice to be in a gang of more than one. To have someone watch your back. It was a little bit of home for the homeless.
Dana had found herself jerked awake from a dream about a long strip of highway and the man with silver eyes before the sun's last purple haze had officially faded below the horizon. The extra couple of minutes allowed her to throw herself through the shower and dress before they had to tear out. Her hair was still wet and dripped into the parking lot bellow as she leaned over the railing finishing her morning cigarette, when dreams like that came through she didn't feel so much like morning conversation. Flicking the butt into the parking lot she opened the balcony door and came in to the rest of the apartment. Couldn't be late today, she pulled on her leather jacket over her long-sleeved black shirt and shoved her feet into a heavily worn pair of work boots. Her fingers found the cool metal of her bike key like a ground to her uneasy mind, she'd get to ride and hit something tonight, it would all be alright.
"Rock and roll." The brunette said from behind the men as she easily fell in to their pace to move out the door, being the last one out she shut and locked it.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:11pm, 278 East 44th Street, Baymaster Commorancy - Alan
What in the world am I doing in here!? I swear I think I must be losing my mind sometimes. At that moment she heard Mellisa yell, "Door!". That child, she thought to herself with a slight smile. Shaking her head at herself, she exited the closet and went to get the front door. She was expecting to interview a new assistant, to help out with the things that she couldn't take care of during the day. She glanced back at the bathroom where Mellisa was and hoped she would be up to saying hello in a few minutes. After all, she had a say in this. Enough choices had been made for the poor girl against her will as it was.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 6:42 pm - Tisdale Apartment 502 - Butcher/Doug
HP: 7 (7) BP: 14 (14) WP: 4(5) Hum: 8 (8) SC: 4 (4)
He gave Dana a nod as she fell in behind them. As they headed to the vehicles he glanced at them both and said, "I'm proud with the work you've both done, especially you Mike, you've had more to deal with at once than most."
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:30 pm - Websters Falls
Donna sat in her Jeep as she waited for the others to come. The group she had chosen for this venture was going to be small. Tonight's meeting was not your typical gathering for training. It had taken weeks to watch over them and see how they would work out as a group. It would be a hard few weeks for those that decided to accept this mission but if they succeeded Hamilton would have its revenge.
She lit a cigarette and sighed as she puffed on it. The Prince was willing to let her hand pick this group and yet she didn't want to take away the best and brightest of the newer children to be there to take up the slack. Donna wasn't insane she knew very well that the thing she was going to ask tonight meant that some of them maybe even all of them would not be coming back. She waited now as she looked inwards to find the words needed to tell them what they would be up against.
(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y167/ladyjallyn/webstersfalls.jpg)
-
Friday, October 15th, 1999 - 7:33 pm - Webster's Falls - Waylon
BP: 13/13 HP: 7/7 WP:4/4 SC:3 HUM 6
Waylon pulled into the parking lot at Webster's Falls, choosing a spot some distance away from Donna's Jeep. The Brujah leader could sometimes be a little touchy about who parked near her. It was a privilege usually reserved for the others of her Clan. He hopped out of the truck and sauntered over, stopping a little distance away from her vehicle. He chuckled.
"Why do I feel like a hooker trying to pick up a john?" he asked her, realizing as he said it that he was leaving himself wide open for an attack from Donna's razor sharp tongue and savage wit.
(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y167/ladyjallyn/bartek9mg-2.jpg)
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:34 pm - Webster's Falls - Angel
Blood Pool= 10/11 Willpower=4/4, Health=7/7 Humanity 6/6 Self Control 3/3
He wasn't first but he wasn't late either, which was a good thing, as far as Angel was concerned. He too parked away from Donna, not wanting to interrupt her conversation with the red haired Toreador. The 'ginger ninja' was surprisingly resilient for an artist, earning his nickname many times over for his stealth, counter stealth and martial arts ability. He left the toy bag in his trunk and sauntered over at a slow pace, making no attempt to hide his approach.
(http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff142/RandomBit/Angel.jpg)(http://i180.photobucket.com/albums/x94/Shadowphile/spanish-guitarist-1.jpg)(http://i238.photobucket.com/albums/ff142/RandomBit/Angel.jpg)
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:35 pm - Webster's Falls - Butcher/Doug
HP: 7 (7) BP: 14 (14) WP: 4(5) Hum: 8 (8) SC: 4 (4)
Doug put the bike in neutral and coasted to a stop beside Donna's jeep. He dropped the kickstand, set the bike down and dismounted all at once as the others pulled in behind him.
He gave a nod, "Boss, respected exanimate's all, good evening."
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:37 pm - Websters Falls
Donna slipped out of her Jeep and chose to sit on the hood she pulled a cigarette out of her pack and lit it as she looked over at Doug and Waylon. "So glad you two gringos could make it." She shrugged looking at the sky aware that they might be waiting for up to an hour for any late comers.
She wanted to make sure those that showed were committed. Doug and Waylon would be excellent additions to the mission at hand. "Wheres Mikey?" Donna asked Doug.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:35 pm - Webster's Falls - Butcher/Doug
HP: 7 (7) BP: 14 (14) WP: 4(5) Hum: 8 (8) SC: 4 (4)
HE nodded to Donna, "He and Dana are coming together. They should be here any moment. He knows something in the air and he's hoping its word on when we go to Toronto. That kid has a real hard-on to kick the ass of the people that turned him."
Doug gave a nod to Waylon, "Good to see you, brother."
-
Friday, October 15th, 1999 - 7:36pm - Webster's Falls - Waylon
BP: 13/13 HP: 7/7 WP:4/4 SC:3 HUM 6
Waylon nodded to Butcher. "You too," he said in return. He was surprised at how easily the Brujah clan had welcomed him and how comfortable he felt among them. He was learning to dance the razor's edge that was their legendary temper but he was a quick study and had only received a few minor beatings, all of them deserved through his inability to hold his tongue.
"You know I'm with you, Donna, in heart and spirit if not in blood." He nodded over to where the Ventrue was lurking. "We've even got the social elite descending from on high to join us."
Waylon recognized Angel as a patron of the arts and that bought the young Blue Blood considerable credit with the Toreador, just as his own determination and fighting spirit had won him some street cred with the Brujah.
(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y167/ladyjallyn/bartek9mg-2.jpg)
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 6:42 - 7:37 pm - Webster's Falls - Dana
HP: 7/7 BP: 13/13 WP: 5/5 Hum: 5/5 SC: 2/2
"Aw Big Daddy D, yer gonna make me blush." She responded as she moved to the hideous primer grey and orange pick up which held her bike on it's bed. Mike wasn't much for riding bitch so she'd drive the truck if they had anything else going down she'd take her bike down. Though she certainly would have preferred the alternative. She was masterful astride the motorcycle, at ease, but driving the truck she was shoddy at best and road raged like no ones business. But they had to all get there some how, she'd muddle through.
"Ya done good yerself." She barked in way of compliment before slamming the door to the truck pulling out after him and off towards Websters.
The thing about driving the truck - besides the fact she was not that good at it - was that you were at the mercy of the other idiots on the road. On the bike you could weave between the cars but everyone had seemed to be determined to make her late. Dana punched the wheel screaming at them but as anyone knows, that doesn't help. Mike was probably used to this by now.
"You better be getting fucking road head the way you're drivin'. I hope she uses teeth you goddamn fucking - MOVE! I HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE."
After a bit of horn blasting she was able to pull into Webster's Falls. She was not that far behind but still - you were not late to these sorta of things. Parking up along side the others she hopped down. Her small form deceptive but her attitude more than made up for it. She made sure Mike was behind her as she moved to join the others, taking out her smokes as they closed the distance.
"Sorry 'm late Boss. Hope we're not too far behind." She said tight lipped around a cigarette, she'd make no excuses - late was late, stuck behind crap drivers or otherwise. She looked towards the red head she'd come to stand beside
"Ey! Pretty boy. How we doin' scrapper?" She greeted clapping Waylon on the shoulder before rooting through her pockets for a lighter. Dana seemed almost incapable of calling people by their given names. Always some nickname or adulterated version. Maybe it was a gesture of solidarity and affection, maybe she was bad with names. You'd never really know.
-
Friday, October 15th, 1999 - 7:38 pm - Webster's Falls - Waylon
BP: 13/13 HP: 7/7 WP:4/4 SC:3 HUM 6
Waylon smiled at the nickname. "Hopefully I'll stay a pretty boy," he said. "God knows how I've held on to my looks hanging with the Brujah. Must just be fast on my feet. How you doing, Dana?"
(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y167/ladyjallyn/bartek9mg-2.jpg)
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:38 pm - Webster's Falls - Butcher/Doug
HP: 7 (7) BP: 14 (14) WP: 4(5) Hum: 8 (8) SC: 4 (4)
Doug looked at the Toreador with a light chuckle and thought about making a comment along the lines of, It's those soft lips. I'll bet the only thing softer is cotton candy, but let it go as he moved towards Donna.
One of the things that he appreciated about Waylon was his ability, unlike most of the clans, to know the difference between taking, and occasionally giving, a little primal humor and a true insult. Knowing when to stand up and take a hard beating and when it was all good fun could be a razors edge for most, even among the Brujah.
"Chief", he said in a soft voice, "Everyone can feel something in the air tonight. I know you play things close to the vest but is it anything that's gonna catch us off guard? Donkey Punch is making some pretty solid assumptions about what's going on and I don't want to see him work himself up into a tizzy."
He knew she could read between the lines. He may not officially be her lieutenant but he felt like it, right or wrong, and he wouldn't look forward to having to reign in Mikey if he got bent out of shape because everyone was making the wrong assumption about what was happening.
-
Sunday October 15th, 1997 7:39 p.m. - - Webster Falls - - Xiaoqing
HP: 7 (7) BP: 13 (13) WP: 5 (5) Hum: 7 (7) SC: 3 (3)
Xiao pulled into the parking lot at the Falls and parked several spaces down from everyone else. She climbed out of the borrowed SUV, but left her sizable collection of 'toys' in the back area under a blanket. Not knowing if this was going to be another typical training session or not she had decided to error on the side of caution and bring along a selection of close combat weapons. In the past few months she had proved her abilities during the training and had even managed to impress the Brujah's with her skills using knives and swords. Xiao had impressed them to the point of being asked to teach a few classes in the use close combat with bladed weapons. She stood a little apart from the others, just on the edge of the pool of light from one of the parking lot lights, waiting to be noticed and acknowledged
-
Friday, October 15th, 1999 - 7:39 pm - Webster's Falls - Waylon
BP: 13/13 HP: 7/7 WP:4/4 SC:3 HUM 6
Waylon nodded to Xaioqing. He'd promised Sara that he would keep an eye on the few remaining Gangrel in the area, in exchange for the right to hunt in Dundas, the area that Antigen had designated as the rightful feeding ground of the Gangrel clan. He'd fallen in love with her unusual eye colour. It had inspired him to begin is 'Immortal Eyes' series of paintings. He'd managed to convince several of the Kindred to sit for him while he laboured to perfect their eyes. He'd even presented Donna with one he had done of Scottie. Of course Scottie's painting had been of the sunglasses he seemed to never take off but it had cemented his relationship with the Brujah like nothing else ever could. It had been likely the closest he or anyone else had ever been to seeing Donna cry.
(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y167/ladyjallyn/bartek9mg-2.jpg)
-
Friday, October 15th, 1999 - 7:40 pm - Webster's Falls - Donna
By way of response, Donna held out a clothe bag. "Cell phones," she said. "Tonight you are gonna work on teamwork. You'll be coordinating your movements without being able to talk to each other. No texting. I don't care if you need to call your boyfriend in half an hour. I keep your phones until we are done tonight. Angel. Be a good little corporate lackey and collect the phones. Once I've got them all, I'm going to start teaching you some hand signals. They work really well when it's so loud you can't hear yourself think, let alone what some loser is saying over the phone."
She tossed the bag towards the Ventrue.
Angel had to step forward to catch it but he did so. Shaking his head, he placed his phone in the bag. "It's high tech Hallowe'en," he said, holding the bag out so the others could drop their phones in. "No candy but lots of goodies."
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 7:41 pm - Webster's Falls - Butcher/Doug
HP: 7 (7) BP: 14 (14) WP: 4(5) Hum: 8 (8) SC: 4 (4)
Doug tossed his phone into the bag without thinking about it, they were more an annoyance than anything else half the time anyway. Maybe he was letting his imagination work overtime tonight, it happened, but he still felt like something more than this exercise, as necessary as it was,, was in the air tonight.
-
Sunday, October 15th, 1999 6:41 pm - Tisdale Apartment 502 - Dana
HP: 7/7 BP: 13/13 WP: 5/5 Hum: 5/5 SC: 2/2
"Don't 'ave one, Wingman." Dana replied when the bag was held out to her, being courtesy enough to blow her cigarette smoke off to the side instead of directly into Angel's face. Who would she call? When she wasn't readily available she didn't want to be readily available. Even with all this war business going on her lack of modern technology had yet to cause her any issues.
"Gonna have to go with trick."
-
Sunday October 15th, 1997 7:42 p.m. - - Webster's Fall - - Xiaoqing
HP: 7(7) BP: 13(13) WP: 5(5) Hum: 7(7) SC: 3(3)
Xiao tossed her phone in with all the rest, checking it for a split second as she did so to make sure it was on vibrate. She had only one on her tonight, the one she used for Kindred business. Her other phone was in the glove compartment of the SUV where she had put it when she headed out for the meeting, also on vibrate. Not that she was expecting any calls tonight, but she hated to be out of touch of those who might need to get a hold of her.
-
Sunday October 15th, 1997 7:43 p.m. - - Webster's Fall - - Donna
"Alright. I want you to pair up," Donna said. "Don't pick somebody in the same Clan. Angelface. You're with me. I'm going to be having you run errands for me all fucking night. Impress me and I might promote you to third in command of this mess. I'm sure you've got a few ideas as to how this deal should go down."
Angel, surprised, nodded. "Let me just throw this bag in my car and I'll be right with you."
"You do that," snorted the Brujah leader. "Come on people. This isn't grade school. You don't need to be friends with your partner. Just pick a fucking partner."
-
Sunday October 15th, 1997 7:44 p.m. - - Webster's Fall - - Ziaqing
HP: 7(7) BP: 13(13) WP: 5(5) Hum: 7(7) SC: 3(3)
Xiao briefly thought of pairing up with Waylon but then thought better of it. She didn't want to be a distraction to anyone and he still seemed to have a slight fascination with her eyes for some reason. So she choose Doug instead. He was strong and had some good fighting techniques and she was sure that he would cover the back of whomever his partner was. Xiao approached Doug and bowed slightly to him, "if you don't mind, I would like to partner with you for the night," she stated. Instead of her usual attire, she had opted to wear a pair of jeans, a light sweater and tennis shoes with her long hair pulled back into a braid. She felt slightly uncomfortable in the clothes but had to admit that it was easier to do a lot of physical activities is such clothes as opposed to those she was more comfortable in.
-
Friday, October 15th, 1999 - 7:45 pm - Webster's Falls - Waylon
BP: 13/13 HP: 7/7 WP:4/4 SC:3 HUM 6
It wasn't hard for Waylon to pick someone who wasn't in his Clan; there were no other Toreador present. He knew most of the Brujah by now, almost to the point of being considered one of them. He turned to see who else was available.
In keeping with Sara's request, he would have chosen Xiaoqing but she had elected to attach herself to the second biggest badass of the group. Donna had chosen Angel, which left him Dana.
"Hey, Dana, wanna be my partner?" he asked in his best star-struck grade school voice.
(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y167/ladyjallyn/bartek9mg-2.jpg)