Wednesday April 22nd, 4:55 - 6:27 am. - Hamilton - Vic- Delta Squad
BP 13 (11) W 5 (4) H 7(7)
Vic wandered away from whitehern invisible but also in a haze, his world shattered from the events of this night, and wandered towards the james street stairs. Dazedly watching the city wake, as a drunk rising from the gutter after a night of debauchery, the few early risers shuffling to the bus stops on their way to work, a few motorists on their way home and the kine of the night scurrying from the light they know is coming.
Desperately Vic wanted life to go back to the way it had been, that he could go back to hiding on his territory, protecting only those he deemed to need it and pretending that it would have been enough to earn his redemption. It was all a lie, everything his Sire had taught him of Kindred, Kine and the changes the sect wanted to bring to them all in those months of imprisonment after his embrace. But it never would, even after the Sabbat had been chased from the city, because of those moments in the awful boardroom, when Lobo's courage his brashness rubbed off on him causing him to do what he wouldn't have done 24 hours earlier. Sit in Spider's chair, stand up to the Prince Lobo or any of the new Brujah wouldn't call it standing up to the prince but for Vic...
And worst taking Mike on as a childe, he would have to bring him into his haven at least for now, but he wouldn't be able to train him in accordance with the teachings of the sect and if they found out that he was potentially putting their secrets at risk this way... well some Nosferatu could be be as effective as Assimites.
Shaking his head, realizing he was outside century manor already, the familiar surroundings bringing some semblance of order to his mind. "Whats done is done, it can't be changed for worrying, its late and there's still much to do" he whispered to himself turning from his sanctuary he proceeded across the hospital grounds and across the street to the Arnie, the college pub he owned that was; along with his sanctuary one of the last three buildings remaining from the original Hamilton Asylum.
Proceeding to the door Vic knocked and hearing the loading of a shotgun he whistled, a few seconds passed before the return whistle drifted over the air followed by the sound of the door being unlocked. Slipping inside he looked around, all seemed normal "Charlie everything go OK"
"Yeah everything was fine here, we just locked up and sat tight, what the hell is going on?" Charlie said in hushed urgency
"there's a war going on, I can't get into to much details right now but the pub is going to be closed for renovations for the next couple weeks except for the regulars. Your brother's in the area, give him a call let him know your safe, he knows whats happening in the city... he helped me out earlier. I just need to feed then we can call tony to give everyone rides home, tell them drinks are half price for the next couple weeks and pay tony from tonight's till" the next five minutes are spent mingling, Vic knew from the outside others would see this as some freak fetish cult with these otherwise normal people gathering, sharing their life with each other while waiting for the Shadow of the Asylum to come and drink some of each of their blood but the truth was they each had either been protected by him or had people they cared for protected by him and they had decided to help him help others before Vic fed just a drop from each so they were virtually unaffected by the loss.
BP 13 (13) W 5 (4) H 7(7)
With only a little under an hour till sunrise Vic returned to Century Manor and slipped into the basement, the soft sound of creatures crawling, buzzing, hissing and more filled his ears and soothed his thoughts and he spent the next half hour tending to the various Hives, colonies and aquariums of all his little friends.
He then proceeded to the small 3x3 room with the iron door the room he had been reborn in and shut and locked the door behind him, stripped out of his clothes and removed the cilice from around his thigh before kneeling and lighting a candle
"I haven't left enough time for proper penance... I'll have to be more rigorous then" he then picked up a length of heavy knotted rope... and began to beat it across his shoulders and back and chanting the mantra passed down through the sect from sire to childe, he continued with blood trickling down his back until the sun rose and he passed into oblivion.
BP 13 (12) W 5 (4) H 7(5)
