"Learn to mind your manners. Then your pain will end."
Ghoul
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Post by Malcolm Bennett-Grey on Feb 10, 2015 16:36:13 GMT
Mid-evening, black wheels crunch along the gravel pathway that leads to the stately house. The driver dutifully stops a respectful distance, awaiting the approach of a security team that was as well-armed as it was well-heeled. Checking the license plate and model against their records, the car is Malcolm's, and in the back seat the gentleman-knight's silhouette may be seen dimly through the darkened glass. A sickle moon hangs in the sky, sharp and silver, casting the vineyard in grey-blue light.
The streets had run grey with ash in recent nights - unthinkable! Fledgeling vampires plucked from their havens by hunters and left to the sun! It was the stuff of nightmares. Muncie was a sinking, shipwrecked city that he would abandon as swiftly as possible. But he was a gentleman, and there was business unfinished.
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Post by Sebastian Ainsworth on Feb 11, 2015 0:57:53 GMT
Usually it did not take long for the security team to approach the car. The whole grounds was usually a well oiled machine, capable of locking down and securing any threat that passed across the property line. It was rare to not feel watched and judged with every step while on the grounds, but there was something off tonight.
The manor, while not all that unusual, was dark and silent. The security team strangely absent. The whole place felt empty, except for the barking from the kennels out back. Even that felt out of place, there was a normal kind of barking and then there was this. Frenzied, and panicked, anyone used to dealing with animals would know there was something wrong with Sebastian's hounds. And over it all the overwhelming smell of blood.
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"Learn to mind your manners. Then your pain will end."
Ghoul
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Post by Malcolm Bennett-Grey on Feb 12, 2015 2:55:31 GMT
Though the knight may often rail against disorder in all its forms, Malcolm thrived on chaos and hungered for the unpredicted. The occasional massacre made his dotage so fascinating. He exits the car, slamming the door behind him, and makes for the front door. Heels crunch, and a shiver curls along the Spina's spine - there was undoubtedly something wrong, very wrong, and exceptionally dangerous. Thrilled by the prospect of bloodshed, he makes for the front door and raps against it with the head of his cane. He would wait a respectful amount of time before opening the door himself.
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Post by Sebastian Ainsworth on Feb 13, 2015 15:34:46 GMT
The door looked forced, the jam splintered and a large divit in the center of the door evidence of some sort of ram. It swung open with no noise at the slight touch from the elder Kindred. Immediately Malcom's nose is assaulted with the overwhelming scent of blood. A dark pool of gore ran viscously over the tile entrance. It's source was a doorman that had greeted Malcom several times in the past. He'd fallen unceremoniously onto his back after being shot at close range, where he proceeded to bleed out. Bullet holes riddle the interior walls and furniture. The old grandfather clock in the hall looked partially scorched, it's delicate clock face was shattered in what ever occurred in the home.
As Malcom pressed further into the house, there were bodies everywhere. Corpses of Villain security, staff, and whomever had entered the house, dressed in ineffective tactical gear, lay broken or dying in nearly every room. The manor had been purged completely by someone, though not without a fight.
Suppressed gunfire sounded from somewhere deep in the house, followed by a roar and the sounds of men dying.
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"Learn to mind your manners. Then your pain will end."
Ghoul
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Post by Malcolm Bennett-Grey on Feb 14, 2015 20:09:29 GMT
A prudent person might have quietly stepped away, returned to the car, and sped off into the night, putting as much distance between himself and Muncie as possible. It stood to reason that if these hunters had come for the Prince, they would surely be coming for him, too. For all he knew, his own nearby estate was already ablaze, his staff massacred, his treasures stolen. But Malcolm was not driven by prudence - nor was he, strictly speaking, a person. The stench of blood curls around his nose, its reek utterly intoxicating. He presses on, finding death and death and death. At the sound of gunfire, his grim expression tightens. He unsheathes his sword from his cane and speeds ahead, swift and silent as a shadow. (2 Successes on Stealth)
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Post by Sebastian Ainsworth on Feb 15, 2015 3:30:30 GMT
As Malcom pressed further into the house, he descends a stairwell behind the main stairs, and passes through hallways, doors to rooms line the hall all of them kicked open. The under manor is just as decadent as the above, and seems to have seen the bulk of the fighting. As he turns the corner he lays eyes on man crawling away from something, terror in his eyes. He screams as a massive golden paw presses into his back. The beast pressed hard on the man breaking several ribs. Then without malice its massive head leans down and cracks the mans skull like a walnut between its powerful jaws. It lapped at the blood pouring from the man, and as it did, the wounds in it's side begin to close. Bullets fall to the ground, pushed from its hide. For now the beast seems content on its meal, but who knows how long it will take to notice Malcom.
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"Learn to mind your manners. Then your pain will end."
Ghoul
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Post by Malcolm Bennett-Grey on Feb 16, 2015 19:09:36 GMT
The ghastly sight is one that will haunt Malcolm for many nights -- the crackling pop of the mortal's skull, the scarlet gush of blood flowing like juice from a pomegranate. Gnarled fingers tighten around the blade's hilt. The lion -- Sebastian? -- is every inch as massive as the bronze guardian lions at Trafalgar Square.
"Your Majesty..." the man says with a slight bow, and a hint of a question mark.
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Post by Sebastian Ainsworth on Feb 16, 2015 20:09:47 GMT
A deep rumbling growl escapes the beasts maw. It's bloody muzzle raising slowly from it's kill, while golden eyes dance in the dim light of the hall way. It's licked its nose and lips, then began to shift. He shifted from four to two legs, the mane retracting and looking more like human hair, the massive paws turned to hands though the wicked claws remained flexing in the light. Small points of black death.
Sebastian remained hunched over the body of the man he just unceremoniously killed. "Sir Bennet, it's good to see you unharmed." Sebastian sounded terrible and emotionless, and his voice was rough and ragged. Something happened here beyond just being attacked.
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"Learn to mind your manners. Then your pain will end."
Ghoul
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Post by Malcolm Bennett-Grey on Feb 16, 2015 20:24:08 GMT
"I have found that I am fast on my feet," the knight nods. A shiver runs down his shoulders at the sight of such unbridled savagery. The Prince's rage was a force of nature, as undying and merciless as the sun itself. "And it is good to see you relieving our enemies of their lives."
He steps forward, over the shredded body of a disemboweled hunter. "Sir Prince, have you given thought to our next steps?"
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Post by Sebastian Ainsworth on Feb 16, 2015 20:35:33 GMT
"This is not the last of them, there will be more and they will come with more than just guns." He rolled his shoulders and checked down his side. The wounds weren't closing fast enough, had he not had the security he did, he would be dead by now. "The city is besieged, not just by shadows, but now by humans. And they will not go away until every last one of us is killed....this is no mere cadre of hunters, this is a whole organization with funding beyond our own. They have our scent, they have my scent, and they will not stop." he lowered his head recalling Moreno's words to him. The dream was dead.
"I recommend Sir Bennet, that you gather everything you love and hold dear and run. We have not the power to fight this..." the words clearly caused him more pain than the wounds still closing at his side. He refused to make eye contact with the older Kindred.
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"Learn to mind your manners. Then your pain will end."
Ghoul
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Post by Malcolm Bennett-Grey on Feb 16, 2015 21:10:45 GMT
Thank God Sebastian suggested it first. "I concur, Your Majesty. A strategic withdrawal would be most prudent, and we should depart as swiftly as we can. These hunters are more than well-funded and well-armed -- but also well-informed. I should almost think we have a traitor in our society."
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Post by Sebastian Ainsworth on Feb 16, 2015 21:34:14 GMT
Sebastian's eyes flashed with cold rage. It would make sense if there was but who?
"Damn this whole thing," he snarled. "If I had more time..." He practically shook with rage, everything was tumbling down around him. And now this idea planted in his mind like a diseased seed, it sprouted immediately and started to take root.
"At least there is nothing more for me here." his voice caught in his throat as he recalled the coffins below him filled with dust. "I've burned my wealth to the ground before, there is nothing stopping me from doing it again. Come I need your help." He started to walk down the hall toward Malcom, his face and shirt a macabre mask of gore, his eyes devoid of any humanity. Given the number of lives he must have taken this evening, could he be blamed for being so cold?
He led the way to the upper manor and into his study.
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"Learn to mind your manners. Then your pain will end."
Ghoul
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Post by Malcolm Bennett-Grey on Feb 16, 2015 23:17:47 GMT
"Indeed, Your Majesty, how many empires we have burned and built and burned again? A noble man puts on wealth as easily as he does his boots." Malcolm follows his brutal lord through the winding halls and stairs to the book-lined study: an island in a sea of blood.As they walk, Malcolm finds himself troubled, uncertain. He had come to this wretched city to create order, and he had failed. The shame stains what tattered fragments remain of his soul.
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Post by Sebastian Ainsworth on Feb 18, 2015 14:35:19 GMT
Sebastian strides to the massive wood desk that dominates the interior space. It's beautiful leather top was brilliantly inlaid in the wood with hand beaten brass tacks. Opening one side of the desk, Sebastian revealed a concealed electric safe. He quickly types in a code causing the door to pop open with a slight click. Within were stacks of money and several leather bound journals, most of which Sebastian grabs and tosses into the fire. He then turns to Malcom, in one hand he holds a brown leather book with strange symbols on the cover, and in the other the amulet taken from the corpse of the shadow priestess. He offers the amulet to Malcom with cold gore covered talons.
"These two things should not be found together. I have no idea what the connection is but I assume one assists the other, because they were the only two things left on the corpse of last threat to the city. Take this and hide it. Leave the state if you can, these hunters even stalk the streets of Indianapolis. One of them, a large one, has the ability to control flame." His voice is still cold and emotionless, he didn't have room for emotion right now. The blood on his hand and the loss of everything weighed too heavily. If he stopped to think about it, it would consume him.
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"Learn to mind your manners. Then your pain will end."
Ghoul
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Post by Malcolm Bennett-Grey on Feb 22, 2015 2:59:15 GMT
Malcolm's blue irises gleam as the fire greedily consumes Sebastian's offering. Paper and ink sizzle to ash, while the leather curls and smokes. The air takes on a faint aroma of burnt skin. The knight takes his Prince's order, but makes no movement to take the amulet. Too flashy for his taste.
"My Prince, it has been an honour. Some night hence, I should hope we meet again." He offers the Gangrel a genteel bow. When he rises, he suggests, "I know of a safe place for the book, Your Majesty, but not of this - arcane jewelry. I am no scholar of the occult, but my associates in the Wreath tell me that such vile knowledge requires - unusually careful handling."
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