Go to the Broadway Geocities
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To those who have visited here there is only the mists and the occasional errant breeze to maintain their eternal motion. Now something more solid appears in a brief waft. Closer, it seems as a flattened stone top with a figure splayed upon it. Even closer and the yellow glow from the dark cat's eyes - without iris or pupil - can be seen cutting through the shroud with delicate precision. It hunts, as its kind always has, for the answers. Time means little here, so it watches years of play of beings in other realms. Always seeking: questions, knowledge, power. Occasionally it sends servants or summons to particular individuals that pique its interest. Finally, it notices patterns around spaces that are apparently empty. Patterns that warp reality - due to some great truth or power gained within? Unknown as yet, but soon to be. A name comes out of the ether: Malkavians.
* * *
Ocean swells buffet a yacht that has gone beyond the capability of its auto-pilot to reorientate. A rocky shoreline is still some distance away, but tide and wind conspire to drive it steadily closer. As halyards clink against the mast in a frequency increasing with the wind, there is a beeping, then a bump from below decks. The engine starts up and the bow heads around into the wind; the throttle opening up further so that headway can be made. There is a small cloud of diesel fumes, a spurt of contaminants upon the water, and the chugging of the motor begins to push through the elements.
Wreathed in blankets and sunglasses, Handel pulls the thick curtains closed against the dying light. There is little likely to be in his way before the sun sets fully, so he clamps the internal tiller in position and sees about his ablutions, muttering all the while about the perfidy of weather forcasters.
In the depths something stirs. It rises quickly.
Properly groomed and attired, Handel throws back the curtains then climbs on to the deck of the 'Sweet Caroline'. After kicking the unobjecting auto-pilot machinery he goes about setting the sails, checking for damage and making a southerly course. There are no other pilot lights in evidence nor any lights from the land, so he is alone, one of his two favourite ways to be. Fish lures are strung over the side and he retires below decks to mix himself a drink to keep him warm.
Entering shallower waters now, the behemoth slows slightly, but is hurried on by the force it is enslaved to.
Handel has a premonition. "I think tonight will be a good night," he says to himself. "I might even make Haast and go visit Gideon." He raises his glass to good fortune.
The white hull of the craft, highlighted by the phosphoresence of agitated bacteria in the foam of its wake, draws close. Multitudinous arms reach out and grab the boat, halting it with a jolt. Onboard there is a clink, a smash and an oath.
As Handel rushes up the companionway there is a shimmering in the air, and a three foot high human face with glowing yellow eyes forms at the bow of the vessel. Regarding it, Handel snarls, showing his extended canines: "Tremere or mortal magus? I don't really care. Get your grubby paws off my boat. Now!"
The face merely regards him dispassionately, growing more and more distinct with the passing seconds. Handel ignores it and peers over the side of the yacht. His eyes widen as he observes a sea of writhing tentacles. "Whoa. A kraken, huh? Impressive." Realising that his boat could be in imminent conversion to driftwood, he turns again to the mysteriously androgenous face. "What is it that you want?"
This time he is answered: "The knowledge of the ultimate that you and your kin possess. Each in their own way contributing to the totality of the answer."
The Voice is smooth and seductive, Handel responds with the ingrained courtesy of his youth, despite his dislike for the circumstances. "This I can tell you Lady: Rum is the answer. It is a force that is in all things. It surrounds us, powers us and binds the galaxy together."
"I don't think so. That sounds suspiciously like Ben Kenobi from Star Wars."
"I've never met the fellow," replies Handel with a sickly grin. His hands, which have been busy behind his back, complete the last of a few tricky gestures. Something happens to the water surrounding the Voice's creature. The strain of spreading the effect to the edge of his limits almost makes Handel slump, but he remains erect.
"I would have been surprised if you had . . . no, with your kind, I imagine a fictional character is as likely to have been met as a factual."
Handel begins a thorough scan of the magical construct in front of him. It is like nothing he has ever encountered before. "What are you?" he says as he analyses. "You're too up on the cinema to be an elemental and you don't feel like a mage or fae." He finishes his preparations and his musing, "Leave here now, please. As much as I appreciate the attention, I would rather you didn't threaten the continued existence of either my vessel or myself any longer."
"That won't be possible, I'm afraid." A signal goes out to the kraken, which attempts to raise a nearby arm and snare the Malkavian. It finds that whilst it has been inactive, the water around certain sections of it has hardened. Movement is difficult.
"What have you done?" The Voice is less melodius now, undertones promise of dark places of pain, hooks, claws and torment. Not being into that scene, Handel is unswayed.
"Well . . . lady. You were fool enough to attack me in my own element. I was practically born at sea, I died with her song in my heart and woke again to hear her lapping beside me. Too bad for you. And too bad for Caroline," he finishes with a look of regret. Grabbing his sword and scabbard and buckling them on he concentrates and becomes a light mist which moves swiftly towards the coast.
"Later, pawn. Watch for me again. I will have you, and all Malkavian kind."
By the time there is a crack of timbers and the boat begins to sink he is far from the clutches of the now free sea monster. Its mistress sends it away to await further instructions.
After watching his pride and joy fall beneath the waves Handel heads quickly for the nearest psychopath who can understand - Mr Badger. Something big is going down, and he wants some back up.
* * *
In her realm she opens her eyes again. Such a display in a place of solitude, perhaps a city, ripe with witnesses would be better. There are other places to continue. The States are quite heavily saturated. Canada, Europe, Australia . . . where next and what minion to use? Decisions, decisions.
* * *
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The scene is set, the wind blows softly through the trees, a hedgehog plods it's way across a country road and a lone badger slips beneath the earth just before the first rays of dawn strike the land. The hedgehog sniffs the air."Something's wrong," thinks the hedgehog,"Something's very wrong."
It was at this point that the hedgehog realises that the badger that passed him moments earlier was ten times his own size.
"??!!!!???", with but that cry the hedgehog fled the area like most sane animals would.
Time passes and the sun sets. Out of the hole comes not a badger but a man dressed in black. He claws his way out of the hole and reorientates himself. "Where the bloody hell am I this time?" Subvocalises the figure.
"Ah bugger it, this way will do." Intones the man and he sets off, following the power poles toward a neighbouring town.
Down the road the figure hears a growl on the wind. A shadow detaches itself from the trees and launches itself at the walking figure. Mr Badger sees this out of the corner of his eye and shouts "Pull!"
Claws, six inchs in length, appear from under his fingurenails. Mr Badger swings with inhuman strength sending the shadow flying into a pile at his feet. The shadow disperses unnaturally and from out of the darkness appears a giant wolf. The wolf is covered in mangy red and black fur and sports a very short fuzz on it's head.
"Geeez Badger, give it a rest. Can't a bloke say hi anymore?" Growled the wolf as it assumed human form.
"Piss off Loe." Snarled Mr Badger in return.
From out of the wood came the rest of the pack. They all assumed human form and stood around their leader. "Mate.....Mate, are you alright Mate?" Whined the rest of the Black Spiral Dancers. Mr Badger stood on the leader's groin as he walked away to show there's no hard feelings.
Mr Badger walked for an hour more, being followed by the Dancers' all the way. The town was deserted at this time of the night. A lone Losombra stood outside of a Petrol station trying to find some way to fool the automatic doors to open for him.
Suddenly a gust of wind ripped through the streets, blowing tumble weed across the path.
"We don't have tumble weed in New Zealand?" Thought Mr Badger before his mind suppressed the memory. Every now and again he also remembers that New Zealand doesn't have any badgers either and this really upsets him untill he forgets. On the corner stood a pair of designer leather shoes. Mr Badger chuckled to himself as he remembered finding a Torry entranced with a poster and staplegunning the Torries shoes to the footpath. A Ghoul told him that the Torry lost an arm to the sun light before figuring out he had to untie his shoes to run away. The sight of a slowly dissolving jogger didn't worry the towns folk any because they were used to strange foreigners and their stange ways. Probabily came from Auckland or Australia.
From out of the dust a diabolical form emerged. Mr Badger swore as his arch enemy was revealed.
"So Easter Bunny we meet again." Growled Mr Badger.
"When last we met I was the Student. The circle is complete and now I am the master. Bwahahahahahahahahahahahah!!!" Replied the Easter Bunny. There was an embarressed pause as the two combatents tried to find some way out of this Star Wars scene (Damn you Handel, you started this!)
There was the pop of a vaccum being formed as the pack of Spiral Dancers' found somewhere else they had to be in a hurry.
Mr Badger revealed his claws and prepared for combat. As the registered 'Bad Guy' Mr Badger had the right of first rant.
(The first rant generally involves insults concerning the opponent and wild boasts of the size of one's reproductive organs.)
As Mr Badger drew breath to begin the first words of :- You weren't born your mother knitted you! An egg shaped object narrowly missed his head. The Easter Bunny, as cute creatures will all ways do, had no honour and was ignoring the articles of war!!
Not to be outdone in wickedness Mr Badger closed for the kill. When he was in hand-to-hand range Mr Badger lunged toward the Easter Bunny and pulled down the arch nemesis's trousers. While the Easter Bunny was in shock Mr Badger ignored the most obvious wedgee (TM) and when for the internationally banned Dreaded Rear Admiral (TM)!!!!!
The shot struck home and the Easter Bunny vanished in a puff of humiliated smoke. "You've not heard the last of this!" Whispered the Easter Bunny even though his last words had an exclamation mark after them.
"Hmmmmmm the Easter Bunny in Febuary?" Puzzeled Mr Badger. "Don't like the sound of that at all. No siree."
"I need some help with...and who the hell am I talking too anyway?"
And so begins Mr Badgers journey across the waters.
"I bet bloody Handel's behind this"............
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She awoke to a paniced scream. Was it dinner time already? She surveyed her surroundings in hopes that she could once again come to an understanding of what had brought her here... to this point in time... to this dark and dismal place. Yet, the closer she came to an answer, the further the answer seemed to slip. As if in reply, the one who had brought her here entered the darkened attic.
"Are you awake my lovely? Any recollections yet?"
He stood at 6 feet in height and was wearing a giant bunny suit. For some strange reason, one she could not at that time, not ever explain, the shear fuzziness frightened her.
"I....I... i don't think I want to remember"
The man just tsked and shook his head.
"Soon it will be time... time for you to realize what you have become... what I have made you... you are malkavian dear... best not to forget...."
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ME stood alone in the middle of the street. She had just been in the strangest place. But, still, it was with her people. The Malkavians. She didn't know whether to curse the name, or smother it with love. It had become such a tremendous part of her existence.
Scratch that... it was her existence.
She had met so many people who had taught her so much since her time with the man. Still.... she never quite knew what her existence was meant to be. The only thing she knew was she liked things that shined, like the blade of the scalpel... was it a scalpel... she stood enrapted in thought. Trying to remember that which had escaped her the moment the man had swept down upon her on that hospital roof... was it a hospital?
As if in response to her pensiveness, a cab came barreling down the street, horn blaring, driver cursing.
"Hey lady! You crazie! Ya wanna get yaself killed or sumpin?"
Once again having her thought pattern interrupted, she ran off into the night. She didn't stop to think of where she was going or why. She just had this desire burning within her to flee... flee from who she once once, and what she had became.
Finally, due to a shortness of breath and a slight cramp coursing its way up the back of her leg, she came to a stop. Fitfully, she scanned the area, trying desperately to get some bearing on where she was. She looked up between two buildings, where her weary body had come to rest, only to see the gloriously milky white Moon put to bed for the night in a sheet of sheer black satin.
Mystically, the scene above began to shift. It became a perverse sketch of the magical picture it had presented before. Amidst this perversion, this cloud which swallowed her wonderful friend and blocked out the only stellar light which her flaw allowed her to know, a face began to form.
"Who... who are you? What do you want?"
In a fit of sobs, she fell to the ground begging for mercy from this unknown assailant. This monster draped in a shroud of white. It seemed to mock this poor wretch who had wanted nothing from life, only to be given the existence of the night. Time passed. It spoke.
"My dear child, I do not wish to harm you. I seek knowledge. Nothing more. It seems some of you Malkavians are quite uncooperative. Will you force me to use well... force?"
Not quite understanding what this apparition meant, the frightened creature dared herself to glance up once more. Only one pitiful word could escape her lips...
"force....?"
"you know big fuzzy monsters and such. The Malk on the boat seemed to be frightened for awhile, but, well, let's just say he was one of a very few who ever bested me. The other two are gone now. He may soon join their ranks."
"BIG FUZZY MONSTERS!!!!"
The poor whelp let out a scream so pitiful the figure almost considered leaving her be... almost.
"My question is simple.. What is it with you malks? Where does this ability of yours come from? How do you, such lowly, vile creatures, possess such profound knowledge?"
"Lowly? Vile? Knowledge? Perhaps you mistake us for the nosferatu?"
The figeure peers down dispassionately.
"No no. It is you who I want. Do you suppose I would waste such great mystical powers on such vermin as the nosferatu?"
"I suppose not. But I don't see why you would waste it on ME either. I don't know anything. Except I kinda want that there shiny necklace you have around your neck there."
The girl makes a feeble attempt to reach up and grab the necklace. The figure, angered by these exploits, begins to turn an evil shade of green. "Grrr.... why must I always find the crazy ones?"
The girl scratches her head. "You DID say you wanted malkavians, right?"
In desperation the figure throws its hands toward the sky. It gives up on the poor wretch of a creature, and turns to leave. Thinking a little about it, the figure wonders why its time should have been spent in vain. It turns around and decides to have some fun.
"You did say you were afraid of big furry animals, didn't you?"
"No. I just screamed at the mention of them."
"Good"
The figure laughs maniacally. MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! And wiggles its finger. Before the poor innocent, well... kinda innocent... okay... uninnocent Malk has a chance to think about it, she comes face to face with a giant bunny rabbit.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The young Malk turns to flee, only to find herself face to face with yet another fuzzy animal... a giant kangaroo.
Suddenly, a shadow appears at the end of the alley way.
"Hey, you buggin more malks? Didn't you learn yer lesson with the Kraken bit?"
The figure turns to see its new and improved arch enemy, Mr Handel W. Care! The figure, not sure what is going to happen next, turns to Handel and screams. "We'll finish this later, ya slush!"
The figure vanishes in a puff of smoke, along with her two cohorts.
Handel sniffs, "neat trick"
The young Malk, now a little ball of jellified Malk on the pavement, looks up at her savior.
"It's you! The guy from the bar!"
The girl eventually pulls herself up off the ground, and thanks
Mr Care profusely.
"THANK YOU!!! Don't know what I would have done if you hadn't appeared
out of no where like that!"
The girl turns to look down the alley, "How'd you do that anywhichway?" She turns to find a void where Handel had once been. She listens, and can swear she hears it whispered on the wind, "Later squirt. I got me a ghosty to find... Watch out fer them fuzzies...."
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The creature writhed within its realm, the metaphysical equivalent of limbs and claws thrashing through the etherspace in an expression of terrible rage. A minion returned from a minor errand and was instantly removed from existence by the wrath of its master. Pausing for a moment in an almost human emotion of regret, a wave of its mind recreated the denatured follower, stripping the thoughts from its feeble mind as a skilled torturer flays flesh.
"One who searches for Malkavians? How useful."
Another thought, and the slave went once more to nonexistence. A hideous grin worked its way onto what could only be considered the face of the inhuman master.
"How extremely useful."
* * *
The pen scribbled furiously across the small notepad as its retainer, a small pale man of approximately twenty years of age, hurriedly took notes. Occasionally, a tier of the jester's cap he wore would fall in his way, causing him to brush it away in a brief, annoyed gesture. He spoke in a clear, precise, controlled voice.
"So, George, how do you see reality?"
Another, somewhat older and slightly more pale individual sat in the chair across from the first man. Holding a small black wax candle in the shape of a skull in his hand, he seemed slightly nervous, and spoke in a somewhat more gravelly voice. As he spoke, he moved the skull up and down in time to the words.
"Uh...okay....well, this schmuck's just someone to carry me around, get my business done, you know....He doesn't really know all that much, so just ask me..."
Leaning closer to the skull, Erehwon spoke again, smiling slightly.
"Of course. My apologies. George, what do you think reality is?"
"Okay...well, it's all this stuff around us, right? I mean, look. You, me, these things, that crappy art over there, I mean, it's just...stuff. Y'know?"
"Hmmm." Erehwon frowned slightly. "Do you think you have any sort of insight into the workings of reality? Do you ever get visions that no one around you seems to perceive?"
"What? I'm not crazy, if that's what you're asking. I mean, people sometimes look at me funny when I talk to them, but I rilly don't know what you're talking about. Sorry, Ere."
Erehwon sighed. "That's okay. Don't worry about it."
At this point, a figure blurred into existence in front of Erehwon. A large, imposing figure, it seemed to take the form of an impeccably suited man.
"I have need of you, Erehwon."
"How interesting. What sort of favor do you expect?" Reaching into a pocket while he spoke, Erehwon brought out a small microcassette tape recorder and began recording.
"I require your knowledge about Malkavians. The seeking of the ultimate truth which each of you possesses."
Erehwon grinned ruefully. "Don't expect to obtain much from me. I have still yet to obtain a gleaming of truth. If you want a Malkavian with insight, talk to asineth. Or astarte. Even Doctor Karate would be more helpful than me. You want truth, you've got to find someone better than me. Now, if you want me to share a tactic or two, possibly a location or two, I'll require some sort of sharing of your information, and a guarantee of no harm."
The man, still standing, grinned widely, displaying two rows of finely sharpened teeth. Upon this display, Erehwon, taken aback for a moment, quickly recovered and, pulling a camera from an inner trenchcoat pocket, snapped a picture. Briefly scanning the toothy man's aura, he said, "Not a mage...unless that's a truly excessive paradox result?"
Suddenly, with great rapidity, the man reached forward and grasped Erehwon by the throat, hauling him up into the air. "I do not deal with those such as you. You will tell me your information, and you will tell me now."
Erehwon frowned, apparently not inconvenienced in the least by being suspended several inches above the ground. "I'm sorry. I had assumed you were someone with a mind that actually functioned." Looking into the larger man's eyes, he stated, clearly and calmly, "Down."
With an explosive peal of laughter, the brute rolled back his head. "No one has tried to command me like that for years, boy. No one has succeeded in decades." Looking straight into Erehwon's eyes, he smiled, looking as if he was searching his soul with the maniacal, evil grin which played across his face. Erehwon frowned.
tap, tap
"Eh?" Turning around, dropping Erehwon in the process, the man turned to George.
"Um...y'know, I really don't think you should be doing that to Ere. Y'see, he's one a them primog..."
"Another Malkavian!" declared the man, "What luck! Now, what's this you seem to be so protective of?" Snatching the skull, he turned it over in his hands. "Hmmm. It doesn't appear to be anything of use. Perhaps a spirit..."
"Uh-oh," said Erehwon. The Malkavian who had previously been holding George, though, seemed almost to shrink. He looked at his hands in confusion and dismay.
"George?....George?" Then, looking at the large man, with an almost feral look in his eyes, he screamed, "You took George!" With a burst of fury, unexpected from such a placid figure, he leapt at the larger man, clawing at his eyes, and screaming, "Give me back George!"
* * *
Erehwon hurried down the street, although few would have seen him in the shadows he kept to. Finally arriving at a small college building, he leaned against the side wall.
"I don't think George will be able to restrain that thing for long...strength rivalling a Brujah, or a Nosferatu, if not surpassing. It seems I will require aid. At least Derek will be here...as keeper of Elysium, he should be able to help. I should also endeavor to contact Zeke as soon as he returns. He should be able to figure out what that was, at least." At this point, a disturbing thought permeated Erehwon's mind, rising from the extrapolated data.
"Could it have taken the information from my mind? Perhaps found the location of some of the others?" Erehwon considered briefly the possibilities as he stood. "If it wanted to force my information, I suppose the most logical target would be astarte. Although it could be limited physically, in which case it might attempt to seize asineth."
Erehwon frowned. "Too many variables. Add an x agent to cancel out the other." Taking out a coin, he briefly flipped it in the air.
Examining the result with more than slight surprise, he called a taxi, leaving the coin sitting on the stone ledge, neither heads nor tails, perfectly balanced on its edge. Getting in the back, he said to the driver, "The Airport. If you get me there within half an hour, I'll double your fare. Hurry."
Taking out a small cellular phone, he called the airport and made reservations. He murmured to himself, "Probability suggests I obtain assistance as early as possible," and dialed another number on his phone.
"Greetings. It's Erehwon. Something's trying to get Malkavians, and it appears to be powerful...."
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