Erehwon looked around the terminal. Still no JoN. When he had
failed to appear at the gate, and a call netted him nothing but a busy
signal, Erehwon had gone looking. After briefly checking his email by
use of the laptop contained within his trenchcoat, he had quickly checked
the areas which the Malkavians might have come to...gate 23, the tarmac,
the phone booth...but no luck. Now standing near the pickup area of the
Toronto airport, Erehwon had not yet found the welcoming party.
Looking around for any signs of Malkavian activity, Erehwon
decided that the problem might be that he was simply another face in the
crowd without his jester's hat. He glanced down at the right lapel of
the coat. Apparently the "Don't mess with me, man. I'M CRAZY." pin
wasn't enough of a clue. With a brief shrug, Erehwon pulled on his
trademark black and white jester's hat and looked around again.
Upon noticing a trio of figures by the woods, Erehwon looked more
closely. Thinking to himself, "Is that...the fiend? I can't make
out....what the!? A giant badger?" Looking more closely, and enhancing
his sight, Erehwon looked again. "Apparently, that is the fiend. That
looks like Handel next to him. I suppose I must have been mistaken. I
don't recognize the other person, but it's certainly not a badger."
Erehwon contemplated for a moment, then began waving. "Perhaps they've
been sent by JoN....or perhaps JoN's been engaging in fleshcraft recently..."
* * *
Mr. Badger looked over in the direction Handel was pointing,
holding a hand up above his eyes in the traditional manner of one who is
looking in a bright area, despite the fact that it was still night.
"Hum. No, can't say that I recognize him, Handel." He looked
again. "He is wearing a jester's cap, though." Mr. Badger smiled, proud
of his astounding powers of observation.
"Jester's hat? Lemme see!" declared fiend, grabbing the
binoculars away from Badger. This surprised Badger a great deal, as he
wasn't actually looking through binoculars. After a moment of looking,
fiend declared with a whoop, "That's Ere! Forward, ho!" After which he
promptly began running towards Erehwon, looking remarkably like Daffy Duck.
"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum? Close enough. C'mon, Badger.
I'm sure Erehwon knows where the bar is," said Handel, bringing his
remarkably feral companion along.
* * *
"Ere!"
"fiend! What are you doing here? Did JoN send you?"
"Huh? No, I don't think so. If he did, I've forgotten already.
I always wondered what they laced those peanuts with..."
"Well, we need to locate a suitable resting coordinate system.
We have little time until dawn."
fiend continues on, unfazed. "Oh, don't worry, we'll deal with
that when we come to it." At this point, Badger and Handel walk up.
"Greetings, Handel. Who's your companion?"
"the fiend? Oh, don't mind him. He's...well, the fiend"
A low growl emanates from Badger's direction. After a moment of
consideration, Erehwon promptly growls back in a similarly amicable
fashion. Unsure of how to take this, Badger attempts to swipe at
Erehwon's head. Fortunately, Erehwon narrowly ducks out of the way, and
takes Badger's hand, shaking it slightly before releasing it.
"Hi. I'm Erehwon."
Badger smiles, pleased. "Mr Badger. Where's the bar? I sense
pain..."
"I believe I saw something of the sort in the third corridor on
the left, straight that way." Erehwon turns to Handel. "Do you know
what's going on?"
"Could be. But I'm sure it'll be better over drinks. Let's go
this way..."
The four Malkavian proceed to the bar, with the only stop being
for Erehwon to mention to the information desk attendant, "Some gentlemen
may be asking about a person named 'Erehwon'. If they happen to come by
and ask you, could you please direct them to the bar? Thank you."
She awoke with a sudden start. The phone was ringing loudly, and
she didn't like the incessant noise. She reached for it.. to shut it
up if not to answer.
The young Malkavian mumbled into the phone, "mumble... mumble.... uhh?"
"ME? is that you?"
ME looks to make sure.
"Umm.... yeah. I think."
"GOOD! Get your butt out here. We need all you Malks. Remember that
night in the alley?"
She rubs her head, trying to conjure up a picture.
"fuzzies?"
"Yeah. Fuzzies. And some guy with an ego complex who is trying to steal
something from the Malks."
The young Malk sits with a start, knocking her thin black sheet to
the floor.
"NOT MY SHINIES?!?!?!?!"
"Calm down my dear... Not your shinies... Your knowledge."
The man on the other end hears a burst of laughter shoot through
the phone lines.
"That must be one dumb supernatural-type evil dude. Knowledge. Heh.
THAT'S a GOOD one!"
"Just get to Canada, okay dear? Maybe there'll be a nice shiny in it for
you."
The man snickers.
* * *
ME stepped off of the plane and looked around. Nope. No one
familiar. She thought for a moment. Where was it that Malk who saved
her from the fuzzies liked to hang out? She searched the terminal.
Finally, her eyes came to rest upon a sign which stirred warm memories in
her head. 'BAR'
She quickly began to make her way over to the bar, running into
one of those men who had the monkeys. She shied from him and
apologized. He was strange. He asked her if she had seen any one...
strange around. She raised her eyebrow... slight recognition setting in.
Then shook her head and again made her way to the bar.
Strange music and smoke wafted out from the bar's darkened
interior. The sound of people in various arguments and... ahem...
pick-up type situations, were barely audible. With a slight cringe, she
entered. Immediately, a face which she recognized loomed out of the
crowd. He was sitting with a man in a very cool jester cap, a man whom
she did not recognize, but figured must be very powerful, and cringe a
giant fuzzy badger. She turned to flee.
"HEY! Come here!"
Handel's voice carried over the crowd. She turned and cringed
again, shaking her head.
"Badger here ain't gonna hurt you," Handel pulled out a garden spade and
grinned in Badger's general direction.
She approached the bar, making sure to stay as far away from the
fuzzy as possible, and set down next to the one in the cap, seeing as
that particular seat was the farthest from the badger.
Handel let out a drunken chuckle.
"What now?" questioned the girl.
The one whom she didn't know turned to her and said, "We have to
wait for the others. Spooke, Parr, Sammy, Chriss, JoN, Alex and his pal
Petey..."
A strange look passed her face and she ceased listening to the
Malk ramble off the names of all the others who were coming. Alex and
Petey... why did that seem so familiar?
With a screech, Spooke went down. THEY had him!! THEY had finally gotten
him!! In the throes of this nightmare, Spooke thrashed on the floor, all
thoughts of travel gone, only terror in his mind... and the dark
silhouettes of THEM.
".....and JoN and the hawian bunch and the fiend....." the fiend rambled.
handel looked at the fiend, "but you're here fiendy."
"not yet i'm not!" came a cry from the door. into the bar walked the fiend.
"HUH?" went everybody.
"i just get off a plane and i have to start running before they start
chasing me and i look over my shoulder and it's big cthulu type beasties
that are following me and i hide and obfuscate real fast and they can't
find me.....then i finally get in contact with ere who tell's me he's at
the airport and i walk in to see an imposter sitting in my clothes....."
deep breath("why is he stoping for breath?" asked ME. "he's an overdramatic
tosser who just happens to have masquerade," erehwon replied)
"who clearly isn't me because he doesn't have my hat!" he cried as he
reached into his trenchcoat and pulled out his big black hat with red
stars on it and shoves it on his head and points.
everyone turned to look at the fiend who was sitting at the bar also
wearing the black hat with red stars.
"fiend, if this is some new trick with celerity......," ere began.
"'fraid not, mate. he and i are two seperate beings and the same person..
I think the tremere where up to a bit more than i first realised."
the two fiends looked at each other and after what seemed an eon, smiled.
they walked up face to face and did the mirror routine from "Duck Soup"
complete with groucho glasses and moustaches.....
badger hit handel over the head just before handel could ask which one was
the evil twin.
"on with the gathering!!!!!" cried the fiends, making rasberry cordials
and coke drinks to slam down.
"if a maccloud walks in here right now i'm gonna be pissed," said badger.
* * *
two fiends have been accounted for..... will there be more?????
Mr Badger sits at the bar looking at those he has come to call companions
but only to their faces. If the going was good most of them he would call
lunch. He looks at the fiends in the middle of the bar. Would anyone really
mind if he ate one of them, other then the fiend-cum-snack that is? He looks
at 'Ere. Hmmmmm this guy can really growl with the best of them. Eating him
wouldn't be a good thing. For one thing I can't be sure it'll stop him. He
looks at the woman who came in looking like a scared doe. She's not lunch
yet but if she calls me fuzzy again we won't be so sure. Then there's
Handel. There is wisdom in his words but one day when his back's turned.......
Mr Badger laughs to himself but soon stops as Handel starts to reach for the
spade. Why the hell doesn't anyone pick on JoN with a spade, he's Sabbat as
well? Mr Badger uses Obtenebration and makes a shadow reach from under the
bar into Handel's glass. The shadow drinks the rum and waits in its place.
Handel picks up the glass and trys to drink its contents. After a few
minutes of fruitless attempts he gives up trying and falls off the stool
onto his knees.
"Oh why God? Why have you forsaken your servant and denied him Rum? What
have I done? PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!!!"
Handel curls up in a little ball whimpering. The other Malks give him a
round of clapping in appreciation of a geniuine heartbreaking cry from the
innermost soul. The word angst is used in conversations across the room.
Hit me with a spade will ya!
Mr Badger sees Handel's suffering and finds it to his liking. He thinks back
to what the Badger Totem told him. Back to the time of days past. Back to
when badgers roamed the Earth free from prosecution. Mr Badger remembers the
days of running with the pack across Gaia's surface. Running with badgers on
his left and badgers on his right. The badgers were Gaia's choosen race
(ahead of those nasty Garou by far.) The badgers used to gather around
Caerns of Bloodymindiness. Songs were snuffled between packs. Songs of glory
and fighting like a mad bugger. Songs of sharp claws and blood. The badgers
used to gather together outside the villages of the humans. They used to
creep in during the night and drag off the ill, the young, the old, the
infirm, the not so young or old or infirm, the healthy. Generally they dragged
off anyone they bloody well liked. These were the days of the Impergium.
When the Impergium was called off by those great big girls' blouses The
Children of Gaia the good times were over. Free to breed like rabbits (
RABBITS WHO SAID RABBITS? DON"T GET ME STATED ABOUT RABBITS!! ) they soon
over ran the earth. So does Gaia cry out in pain.
Mr Badger snorts. What a load of hippy crap. It was alright until that end
bit. Mr Badger didn't listen much to the Badger Totem at this point because
it was all wishy-washy rubbish about recycling. When the Badger Totem
mentioned creatures with glowing yellow eyes his attention returned.
"Beware the glowing eyes," said the Totem. "For they will come for you again
like they came in times past."
Mr Badger listened to the tale of the enemy and HER creatures. "Know HER by
HER true name and that name is SPHINX!!!"
Mr Badger knew who to fight and now had people to fight with.
From behind his curtain of intoxication Handel watches them
interact - with each other, with him. Just enough distance to stand away
from himself, all his selves. Here he sees the light of cogitation in the
eyes and actions of the man in the jester's cap. Data is grasped and
quickly converted to extrapolations, possibilities, a line leading through
infinities. Beside him the young woman battling her fears on a more obvious
level than the rest of them. More obvious or more honest? Still she glances
in the direction of the man at the other end of the bar. Nothing to raise
such dread is apparent to the mundane eye, but she, as all the others have
done, can see past the outer shell of a slightly sullen, unshaven, but
quite presentable man to the animal beneath. Truth is not so hard to see
once outward appearances are put aside. Or perhaps it is. Catatonia well
past, the freed prisoner talks animatedly to his doppleganger. they even
talk the same! Strange to hear. . . either talk after so much quiet. That
shall take some getting used to.
A hand crosses his vision and lifts glass to mouth. Ice cubes clink
dully against teeth in a briefly numbing moment of cold. He meets Badger's
eyes across the top of his glass. The bastard is grinning just a little too
much after that incident earlier. After swallowing mechanically he
continues to avail Erehwon and the others of his and Badger's exploits,
restating some facts with more detail as requested. Others add their own
encounters and soon the weave begins to come together. Crazy quilt, of
course.
Still, there is a nagging worry in his hind brain. Looking down at
his bare feet he wiggles the toes. Coloured from the dye from his now
drying boatshoes they are blue around the edges. That nag again. Toll gates
down and the tollman is abducted.
Handel steps from the stool. His foot does not reach the floor.
* * *
"Aaaaaaaaaaaa!" Scream the Brothers and Father Zahn in a beautiful
four way choral arrangement. Their presences are somewhat inimicable to the
very structure of the magics present in the mirror. Forces struggle for
dominion as the four men of God fall through an eternity of gray
nothingness.
* * *
A silver bound shaft of wood pierces Spooke's chest. "We're out of
here," says the larger of the figures. "Watch the door, Loki." He begins to
swing the huge mallet hanging from his wrist. Faster and faster - soon
there is just a steady thrum which builds to a near deafening crescendo.
Lightning crackles encompassing the sweep of the weapon and forming a blue
lined portal. As the figures exit with the comatose vampire a shotgun falls
to the floor with an impotent clunk.
The portal begins to contract, but then shudders and expands again.
Every piece of glass for a mile shatters, and Brothers Sanbenito, Ad Astra,
Semper Fi and Father Zahn are shot out like cannonballs. They end their
wailing and stand to dust themselves off.
#What the Hell?# Spitz, covered in a fine mist of window, pokes his
head around the door.
"What the Hell?" says Chriss. He pushes the door wide. Mr Bunny's
particular fragrance begins to spread through the house.
"HELL?" say the four Inquisitors. As one they turn. As one they
raise their holy weapons of destruction. As one they all miss, as Chriss
takes in the scene quickly and takes foot even faster. Spitz is ahead of
him and accelerating. Mr Bunny jumps up and down in Chriss' grasp (he's
getting excited).
Ahead of Mr Bunny, Spitz scents something that he remembers from .
. . ah yes, the guy who set himself on fire at the bar. Spitz quite enjoyed
pissing on his leg to get the last of that out. What he's doing here is a
question to be answered later. With a scamper of claws Spitz follows the
heavy scent. #This way Chriss.#
A dead end alley. There is a figure lying halfway through the rear
wall. It appears to be cursing in a variant of English and pulling bits of
glass out of its bare feet. Spitz rushes up and licks Handel on the face.
This produces more swear words. Chriss runs towards them.
"What's the rush?" says Handel. "Is Spooke alright? I had a bad
feeling. . ."
#Shut up and get us out of here.#
"There a a a re some g g guys chasing us with g g guns an' stuff."
"Shit. Quick, into the Lift. Bloody thing can't disappear if you
stop the doors closing." He grins hopefully.
Chriss enters with alacrity. Spitz follows more slowly, expecting
to hit the wall with the nose that can smell the old brick and mortar just
in front of it. He doesn't.
Handel groans and pulls himself to his feet. At the end of the
alley four figures stand silhouetted against the street lights. With varied
latin quotes shouted in anticipation at the destruction of hellspawn, the
Inquisitors rush towards him.
There is a hiss of hydraulics as soon as Handel steps back.
* * *
In the bar the toilet door opens and Handel emerges.
"Hah. I knew he'd gone off to be sick. It's all just a pathetic
show, you know," Badger says to the others. He falls silent as Spitz,
Chriss and Mr Bunny follow Handel out. "Why couldn't we have done that to
get here?" he mumbles to no-one.
After ordering some chips for Spitz Handel makes sure there will be
no trouble with the barman. "This is not a dog. This is a seven foot tall
Jamaican who speaks no English or French. You will call him sir and supply
him with all the chips he wants." #And a bowl of beer.# "And a bowl of
beer."
Chriss and Handel seat themselves.
"Looks like we've lost Spooke."
"Isn't the s s sunrise getting awfully c c close?"
~~~~~~~~~
A tinkling, rattling sound woke Arianna from her dream. A
small, bright bird on the windowsill, holding a long string of
pearls, hopped to and fro. ~~Little bird, little bird, fly away
home....~~ she thought, ~~for the Children of Malkav, so soon to
burn, have till midnight on the dreaming sun to meet their match--
or master none.~~
Rising, she put out one small hand. The little nightingale,
framed by the dying light of day, perched on her wrist. Naturally,
the string of pearls fell to the floor. ~~Pretty...I wonder if
Nightshade would like them....~~
The master bedroom of the small castle was littered with old
books, scraps of paper and toppled over inkwells from Nighty's last
fit of frustration. The shadow of the bird on Ari's wrist grew
longer and then almost dissappeared entirely before taking on a
luminoius halo of moonlight. Brocade pillows lay scattered across
the antique devan, and Ari sat down to speak with the bird (as she
was prone to do when lonely).
"I saw them, the furry Badger, the fiend, the Reverend....what
is happening, nightingale?" She trailed off, bewildered. "But,"
her voice came back suddenly, "they are walking into the lions den,
why can't they see it?" She agonized for a moment, unsure if
Nighty would like her dreams this time. The blood wrapped around
the Children of Malkav, as Malkav himself stood watching, tight-
lipped and grim. "Malcom.....why did you leave me like this? Why
can't I be free of these dreams?....." How could that two-faced,
shiftless bastard been so heartless as to open the door to her
dreams then leave her standing at the entrance; having opened her
to this second sight for his own uses, then abandoning her to face
it insanity alone? ~~My parents...the poor fools....they never
knew what to do for me. Too new age for their own good. Taking me
to an unlicensed necromancer....he just wanted my sight.....~~
The nightengale grew restless, so with a sigh she cast the
feathered shadow out the window in one brisk movement. As it
became but a spot of black on the twilight sky, she could only lose
herself again in the dream of black seas and warm sands.....
But a low, frightening rumble broke the half-sighted reverie.
-=} You have it....you have the knowledge....you....{=-
The emotions passed over Arianna's countenance like the Angel
of Death on Passover's eve-- confusion
"Nighty?...."
fear
"Nightshade???"
and absolute terror
"NIGHTSHADE!!!"
Nightshade awoke early one misty morning from a deep sleep in her
high poster bed. The first thing she noticed with her wonderful sixth
sense, auspex, not even considering to open her eyes, was the lack of a
body beside her.
For a moment confusion alone settled on her sleeping features, and
then she sat up, threw off the covers and jumped out of bed, shivering
when the cold stone floor touched her feet.
-Nighty! Nightshade! NIGHTSHADE!!!- a familiar voice howled in the
back of her mind, and she grabbed her black silk robe, wrapped it about
herself and threw upon the door to her room.
She tried to think of what could be wrong, and remembered.
She had only recently come to visit Scotland, and had never expected
to meet the owner of an old castle. "Castle," she'd said, sitting at the
cafe in London, french-style cafe that served bagettes and cheese and
wine for breakfast, "Castle? You have a castle?" her eyes glowed with an
ethereal light.
After all, a castle was something Nightshade had always wanted. And
now that she was no longer a mere, cursed, poor, wretched meak mortal who
would inherit the world--or as Sting so kindly put it "Blessed are the
poor for they shall inherit the earth, i heard the old man laughing,
`what good is a used up world and how could it be worth having?'--now
that she wasn't condemned to that fate, she could easily life in a moldy
old castle.
Now that she didn't have any use whatsoever for modern plumbing.
And now, three and a half years later she was still in Scotland,
living with the beautiful owner of the castle, dear sweet Arianna.
Nightshade was, tecnically speaking younger in terms of years than her
lover, but that didn't much matter to her. She seemed, felt so much
older, older than anyone else in the world.
And that was why she was condemned to hide in Scotland. How was she
to know the tremere prince wouldn't take kindly to being called a spoiled
little brat who neededto grow up? It made no sense to her. None
whatsoever. Honesty was not a quality admired in kindred society.
Nightshade didn't feel much kindred to the other vampires, anyway. Except
Arianna, and perhaps Paul, if she ever found him.
She walked through the musty halls, lighted by dim halogen lamps
that had only recently replaced the old torches. "Arianna?" she inquired
off the walls, and unaccountably they seemed to glow.
They loved their mistress too.
She marched through the house, heading for the bird room...Arianna's
master bedroom.
Nightshade had never been fond of the room, and had dubbed it the
bird room. It was where a lonely woman sat by her huge window and sang
with and to the birds.
Nightshade appreciated singing. She was half toreador after all. But
she didn't appreciate people, vampires or snails who got LONELIER in
company than out.
She threw open the door of Arianna's chamber, not surprised to find
her sitting by the window, staring at an empty finger spread as a bird's
pearch and trembling in fear.
"Come back to bed, Arianna," she said, for no particular reason.
Nightshade was almost compulsively kind and persuasive. She knew Ari
would ignore her feeble order, request, and stare and tremble more.
So Nightshade went to Ari and wrapped her arms about her. Ari wore a
beautiful soft white nightgown, adorned with simple lace and a pink
ribbon threaded through the lace edging the bodice.
Arianna remained, peacefully shivering, either unaware or not
noticing Nightshade's prescence.
The wind blew in from the window, the scottish hills at night had an
eerie blue green glow, like the sea. A wave of repulsion spread over
Nightshade.
"Let's get our stuffed aminals and go to San Fran Cisco, Ari!!! RIGHT
NOW! It's this air that's making you sad. How about some scotch? Scotch
is good. It's warm. I like drunk men. Let's go to the tavern and get some
drunk men, drunk on scotch, and then let's get our aminals and go to San
Francisco..."
Nightshade waited patiently for Arianna's reply, knowing full well
that Arianna wasn't always agreeable...evidence of that could readily be
found in all the spilled ink -- ink Arianna had spilled -- after their
last fight.
That one had been about the existence of alternate parallel universes
in conjunction with black holes; as well as whether or not jumping from
the tower window would make a good final statement to Nightshade.
Every single one of Nightshade's fingernails, ripped out from the
base and hung up beside her bed, had been the casualities of that last
little fight; as well as one pet mosquito, squashed before her eyes.
And when the matters were SERIOUS, as opposed to that child's play
about life and death and black holes, something with a real bearing on
their lives, Arianna's fits were so much worse...
Still the idea had merit. Nightshade was sick of hiding in this
beautiful museum. Arianna was the epitome of young talent and strength,
and the very way her skin shone in the moonlight was begging to be taken
to someplace important and bragged about, displayed like a bird.
Nightshade didn't mind being on display either. There would be pranks
a-plenty to amuse Ari. Nightshade was sick of sulking about Scotland like
a teenage vampire, worshiping necrophilia and misery.
And suddenly it dawned on her what would bring Ari out..."There are
LOTS of toy stores and occult shopes in San Francisco...you wouldn't
believe the shear numbers of them...Toy stores as big as the caslte..."
Arianna?
* * *
-=}black{=-
The sheer numbers of the dancers pulled at her eyes, unbelieveable...
-=}black in the dark{=-
They're simply gowns and suits gleamed in the light, pearlecent,
fabricated from her cocoon of pain....
-=}black in the dark I rise to meet you when the midnight sun burns
Gaia down down down I can hear you There is no escape Give in Give up Give
me the secret and tell me what would make you happy....{=-
"I want to live again," whispered Arianna, oblivious to the fact that
her fingernails bore delicate cresent shapes into her palms, painful and
sweet in that pain was a reminder of a life she once had. Standing nearby
was her own beautiful Nightshade. ~~Be part of my life~~ she thought, ~~I
need you more than I can say~~ "Of course, dear, I'm here," came the low
voiced reply, "And doesn't 'Frisco sound like a wonderful idea? Let's pack
right now, and catch the next flight-- we'll be there in no time..." Nighty's
voiced trailed off as she left the room to fetch bags and clothes and such
travel articals as would be necissary. Upon returning, suitcases in hand,
all that registered was Arianna's eyes, blazing, now a toxic green glow in
her pale face.
"We're going to meet them."
Nighty quirked her head in a quizical fasion. "Meet who?"
"We're going to a bar in the airport at Toronto," and with that, she
swept out of the room to make the necessary travel arrangements.
Go to the Broadway Geocities
