Chapter XX: The Games of Ancillae

Tuesday, January 4th, 2011

It has been over a month since my last entry. I lost a sense of where my thoughts were, as I found myself struggling to get a grip of the Gangrel's most sacred blood-skill. Desirae, the native girl who spent her time to train me, was astounding pleasant in various ways. I almost forgot she was Kindred during our time together. She reminded me of a friend I had who now lived in Istanbul, his name was Arin. Arin and I were close friends in college. We were not colleagues, so much that he was a young gypsy boy who tried to make a living in some fashion. Arin actually tried to rob me. Scent of myr. Air is thick. Sunlight passing through parted beams. Shade provided by sandstone walls. Children playing outside. Students listening to elder. Distracted by a tug on my satchel. Boy, twelve years. Makes off with a false-gold bracelet. I found Arin later, trying to pickpocket a student. I gave the kid a backhand across the face! But he ran off before I could throw my hand again. Arin's mother returned to the campus the next day, making Arin point me out. I was about ready to go into fisticuffs, but she instead apologized and returned my bracelet. I'm not sure why I remember Arin, but it goes to show that my memories are coming back slowly. 


I might eventually remember why I'm so angry at everything. Arin came back weeks later and tried talking to me. Somehow I found talking to the kid very therapeutic. With all the studying I was doing, seeing and hearing about Arin's life and his confidence, was a change of pace. Arin even showed me how he was able to maneuver society, despite his low economic standings. I showed him some pointers in being focused, he showed me how to loosen up. But that was a long time ago, I have yet to recall what happened to Arin since my Sire found me. Although I’m clear that the strength of my blood will restore the things that I’ve lost through torpor.


Sean, our leader, was intent on exposing Dr. Ortega and her schemes of breeding draugr. Completely understandable, as the long-term threat of a draugr infestation would be counter-productive to my goals. Although Ortega was instrumental in rehabilitating me, it wouldn’t be out of the question that she and Dr. Stigson had hoped to utilize me as an additional pawn for Savoy. A plan to infiltrate the Asylum of Ortega’s occupation was underway, Sean found information on several contacts that work at the Asylum and decided to pursue the War Security. 


The night was invested primarily in creating badges to pass off as the Feds, which took a lot longer than any of us suspected. Agnes and I pursued independent ventures while Sean worked at the details of the badges. For myself, I know that our unlife changes the way we interpret time. We aren’t subject to entropy the same way mortals are. We don’t get wounded the same way either. As a professional, I understood that whenever I took on a target that was a Kindred, draining their blood was the only surefire way to make a kill. I don’t use sniper rifles. Nijam advised that the best way to take a target down is up-close and personal. He was more skilled in poison brewing than myself, I wasn’t taught enough before he disappeared. I was left to improvise and it worked to some degree. When the time came, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go hand-to-hand with some of the people who helped me. But on the other hand, I’m reminded that Kindred loyalties are far more duplicitous as those of humankind. I spent a good amount of time that evening to walk around the neighborhood. I have to say, I didn’t want Sean to make me a badge, it wasn’t necessary to conduct an investigation he would be doing... but he wanted to cover all possibilities. That’s fine. Where was I?

Wednesday, January 5th

Sean supplied the suits, the badges, we were set. Something did occur to us, Janus and Laura were missing. No matter! I wouldn’t mind taking down another Mekhet if the option arose. I admit there was something empowering about this enhancement to my blood, I wouldn't mind whatever Desirae would ask of me at this point. Well, Tobey and Agnes were by the car, while Sean was doing some interrogating for information regarding St. Roch Asylum, one of the human security guards that lives somewhere in the Tremé. Antonio and I were guarding the back of the house. Nothing suspicious. It was a bit boring. I checked some e-mails and clothing websites on my phone, sometimes figuring it would be nice to strut in the newest trends in the daylight. Foolish dreams. When Sean concluded his business, we reconvened. Departing the location, we tried to figure out our next move.


We met with Sheriff Donovan at our original Haven, the one by St. Louis #1 and which was compromised due to Strix involvement. Fuckin' owls! Sean gave information he gathered, concerning testimony that there were draugr in that Asylum. I was almost compelled to tip off the situation to Ortega, but given the undermanned situation of the Coterie and the Prince's disappearance, I wasn't going to throw my only available allies under the bus. Sean decided to visit his only witness, back at that old shotgun house. Given that we returned some few hours after midnight, the people were most likely asleep.


2AM


The rest of us waited outside... well I did, the others were in Agnes' vehicle a block down. That's when shit happened. Ominous hip-hop of doom blasting up the street from a lone car. Not to mention, some fuck using Celerity just leaving my vicinity... Sean doesn't run like Flash, he's ninja like Batman--- so I knew that wasn't him. Without a second thought, I ran over to Agnes and threw out my observations. At that point, Sean arrived and we loaded into the car. I didn’t ask where Sean was successful in whatever he wanted to accomplish. A vehicle blocked one end of the street, with the boom-doom vehicle closing in on us. Agnes bashed her vehicle through one end, after I told her not to worry about repairs. But Sean wanted to go back, even though we were a short block beyond the danger zone. Agnes was in a panic, she wouldn’t stop. Sean and I threw ourselves out opposite sides of the moving vehicle and we worked our way back. Look, I really don’t want to get into the details, but my left arm is still burning and funny smelling from Savoy’s lackey.


Surprisingly and thankfully, Sean was very effective with his tentacle-faced power. I didn’t even know that he took care of the bastards from the boom-doom car. Although next thing I know, a vehicle clips me and throws the tough guy and his vehicle over and kills some of Sean’s distracted victims. Sean goes over and fires a shot into the guy... I figured, eh--- what the hell... so I unleash my new claws and cut into him. I keep forgetting names. But then again, this guy wasn’t my target. If he was marked, I’d know him until final death. But he was an interference, Savoy’s lackey trying to take a stab at our work. He made a threat to us, then disappeared. Sean was better and revealed his position... we had to take a bit of faith just to attack the spot he blindly fired at. Well, it worked... and we now had a prisoner. Sean conveyed some of the encounter to Donovan. There would be a clean-up crew and we now have a hostage. I prefer him dead. Perhaps we just found an alternate way to infiltrate the scene...


Upon the wings of a falcon, I let fly the words which will divine worthiness in the name of our Dark Messiah.


M. Hassan




From the Personal Journal of Sean Callahan, Invictus & Hound of the Prince


January of the Year 2011

If I cared to notice, I would notice a chill in the air.

It has been many months since we have seen our Prince, and the city grows thick with anticipated violence.

We walk upon a razor's edge. It is hard to know when all hell will break loose. It is not a question of if, but rather when. And so we tempt fate when we prepare.

My coterie mates seem unaware of the precariousness of our position. "We have time," they say. "It doesn't matter if you finish making your FBI IDs today or tomorrow," They say.

But for all I know, tonight may be our last night to prepare. I'd rather spend it achieving our aims than preparing to achieve our aims... If that makes sense. I grow weary. Dawn approaches.

***

Tonight, we shall meet the fellows I have stalked for us.

***

Tonight we spoke with the Ward Security, and he confirmed our suspicions. Aside from MERELY wearing away the masquerade with her eating patterns, it seems our dear ex's mother is, indeed, in possession of Draugr. The kine spoke of a basement room where she was kept. His friend, pepite, knows more. We have this all on record. I hope it will suffice for the Blood Hunt. He knows and we know... hell, everyone knows who must have been behind the attacks the other night. This "evidence" is just paperwork. When Power and Chaos reigns, there will be less of this red tape.

***

Blood, Hell and damnaTION! Wherever we go, it seems Savoy's goons are right beside us. We returned to the Security guard's home, intending to bind him to me, so that we could easily gain entrance to the asylum and obtain more "hard" evidence (absurd! I wonder if the Prince's men are trying to get us killed). As we left, 2 cars boxed us in. We handily destroyed them and captured one of Savoy's goons, but that doesn't erase the fact that Savoy seems to know what we're about. Is there a mole amongst us? Moira was certainly eager to kill our prisoner. I wonder what information he holds.

SC