Go to the Broadway Geocities
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Parr weaved gleefully in and out of traffic in the dark city, the wind blowing her long hair wildly about. Sammy, in a practical 4-door Daihatsu, was somewhere behind, struggling to keep up. She tossed a glance over her shoulder to make sure he was still behind; good. Normally she would enjoy the ride, but tonight something was telling her to hurry, hurry. She sped the bike up a notch settled back for the ride.
Two hours after dusk Parr signaled a left and turned into her country house.
The large and imposing edifice looked woefully out of place in the scenic pastureland. Parr's Sire had left her some money; a rather lot of money, actually. She wasn't sure how much their was, but it was enough to purchase several homes in the city, this home in the country and any of the other various whims that she occasionally had, such as the McDonald's. Her finances were managed by a mage named Natas. He was a bit particular in that he always wore a red cape, and insisted that all her interest-bearing accounts earn 6.66% a year, but he was a decent advisor and he didn't bother her about money.
Seeing that she was home, Parr gleefully skidded around the corner toward the garage and slammed head-on into a 10-foot wall of Nerf (c) foam. The bike fell to the ground; Parr bounced away unharmed. A moment later Sammy turned the corner and skidded to a halt in the driveway.
They walked together up to the front door. Parr leaned over a speaker set in the wall and said "Hey, I'm home!". Immediately the door was thrown open and two butlers, both dressed impeccably, gasped in unison.
"My lady, where have you been? And who" they said, looking with undisguised disgust at shaggy Sammy, "have you brought home? Well don't just stand there, come in, come in."
The butler on the left shook his finger at Sammy as he tried to enter. "Not you, sir. You come with me." A confused Sammy was led away.
"Alex" Parr said to the butler on the right, who had followed her in, "I've had a dreadful time of it, and there's more to come. I'm sorry that I can't explain but I'm in a hurry. Could you draw a bath and check in on Sammy? I'm sure that Justin will fuss over him to no end." Although she was in a hurry, she certainly could take time for a bath...
Half an hour later, a new and improved Sammy was ushered into the Study. He was neat, clean, impeccably groomed and dressed in a tasteful and no doubt expensive Italian suit. The only thing left untouched was his stubble, and he'd had to put up a horrible fight just to keep that. He looked uncomfortable and continually scratched his shoulder. Parr had bathed and changed clothes as well to a casual green silk shirt, black jeans and an ornate Renaissance hat set with tapestry frills. The hat occasionally flopped into her vision, and then she would push it back up again.
She sat at an imposing wooden desk, which was covered with papers and objects. A space had been shoved in the middle and in that space sat a cardboard pencil box with a lock on it, and a letter. Parr read the letter to herself again as Sammy itched:
Dear Parr; I've known, as we all do, that someday I'll have to leave you. Yea, as the squirrel leaves his nuts, only really different as I won't come back and eat you. Drat. Anyway, I foresee that you, being Malkavian and young, may fall into the hands of trouble. Yea, as the sparrow is devoured by the hawk, only not really, at least I hope no-one rips you to shreds. Drat.
So here attached find a Box, a special Box that I have prepared for you. Inside you will find items that will be of great value to you. Do not abuse this treasure, but rather use it in great need only, or yea it shall be as the lion that bites the hand that feeds it, only different because you are taking stuff out and not putting it in, and the box isn't really alive anyway and DRAT. Love throughout eternity;
Drat.Parr sniffed a bit in sad remembrance, then motioned Sammy over to the table.
"This Box, left behind for my by my Sire, will aid us in finding the other Malkavians."
"How will it do that?"
"I'm not really sure" she said, "but I guess now we'll find out." She carefully undid her necklace and removed the tiny key inside. Fitting it gently into the lock, she turned it. With a soft 'click' the box lid sprung open. Inside was a velvet pouch and a scrap of paper. The paper read:
CLOSE EYES AND INSERT HAND IN BAG. GRASP THE FIRST OBJECT YOU FEEL AND RETRIEVE IT. DO NOT OPEN THE BAG. MADE IN CHINA.
After they had both read it, Parr gingerly picked up the bag. It was quite heavy.
She undid the laces, closed her eyes and slid her hand inside. The room was silent, except for the sound of Sammy scratching.
"What is it? What do you feel?"
"It's cold....small and cold..." Parr retrieved her hand and inside Sammy saw a golden key. The handle had what looked like a 'P' and an 'X' stuck together on it. Parr opened her eyes and glanced down.
"Well. A key. It's nice, but how does it help?" She appeared glum.
"Try again" suggested Sammy.
"I guess I should." She slipped the key into her pocket.
Once again Parr placed her hand into the bag, and withdrew it. Inside was a folded bit of paper from a phonebook. She unfolded it to read:
BOB'S SKYWRITING, INC since 1993--Day or Night Birthdays--Bar Mitzvahs--Death Threats (999) 342-4343"Are you sure you want to do this?" screamed Sammy over the roar of the plane engine. He personally hated heights and he couldn't understand how anyone else couldn't, either.
"Yes!" Parr yelled back from the back of the plane. They had called and awakened Bob, the propetier, pilot and everything else of Bob's Skywriting, Inc. At first he had been quite unreasonable, but Parr's offers of gobs of money and Sammy's Dominate set that to rights. The only problem was that another person was needed to attach and refill the various canisters of sky writing 'fog juice' that were used to spell out the message, and Bob's usual helper was not to be found. Parr had volunteered for the job when she learned of Sammy's fear of heights, although she had sensibly pointed out that he was dead already.
"Sammy, I need you to make sure that the spotlights are set up and focused on the sky. Then get back to the hill and wait for anybody who might show up."
"Okey!" he yelled back, and turned to go. He hesitated, and turned back.
"Oh and Parr? Be careful!" Then he left.
Parr banged her head slowly against the side of the plane. "Why does everybody keep SAYING that?!" she cried, and then fell down as the plane lurched to a start.
Slowly, slowly, the tiny plane spelled out letters in the sky. The sky was absolutely calm; Parr had bribed Daran to do that and she knew she'd have hell to pay for it later. Pinch-penny Mages. Still, not even that could ruin her mood tonight. Outside, gigantic words in the sky were illuminated from the ground:
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Somehow, despite all the gunfire, the mirror above the bar (an old Bone Gnawer caern) at the airport is still intact (if a little warped from the heat of the flamethrower). A chiseled looking young vampire in black leather (cliche) steps through with his Silent Strider (Ragabash) Garou buddy. They both promptly collapse in a heap on the cheap indoor/outdoor carpet since the mirror is some 1.5m above the ground. "SHIT!" the vamp exclaims definitively. The two scan the destruction and come to the same conclusion: bachelor party. Then they see the scattered most Royal and Holy symbols and again come to the same conclusion: Badger. "They didn't save us any!" says the Garou with an evil grin. The vamp doesn't even notice. He's busy staring at the beautiful silver plated flamethrower left in the entrance to the bar. It seems to glow with an ethereal flickering light. (Probably because the bar is still on fire.) The vamp leers with a look that would make Jack Nicholson shiver, and begins to stalk the object of his desire. He stops halfway there, thinks ,"Aw fuck it." andrunsasfastaspossibleandslingsitoverhisback. The Rag just chuckles under his breath.
After another quick scan around the room the vamp says,"There's a convieniently placed caern in the park in [insert city name here] isn't there? Let's go visit Parr."
"Hmm, seems that there is... Odd isn't it?"
"Nah; Malk."
They dive back through the mirror and end up cough cough in the middle of a pond. The vamp staggers out screaming and shaking his fist at the sky, "GODDAMIT I HATE GETTING WET, YOU SONOFABITCH THROW RUGS!!!"
Upon which a number of growls come from the surrounding trees. The Rag crawls out coughing, sputtering, and muttering about getting water up his snout.
"Well, see ya Torchy! I'm gonna go heckle a Torry performance on the East Side."
"Thanks for the ride He-of-Little-Sense"
"No prob."
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Everything looked gray and ancient. Decay ruled the land with an iron fist.
If anyone could be called the master of such a place it would be entropy.
Such did the Shadowlands appear.
T'Revor hid his distaste of the surrounds as weakness was a sure way to find ones way to the slave block. He tightened his hold on the Barghest at his side. The beast snarled quietly but not enough to appear rebellious. It knew its place and knew punishment was never far away. Once T'Revor would have called the beast his friend but that was before the betrayal. The cold Stygian steel was permanently fixed to the creatures soul as well as its face, there will be no further betrayal.
T'Revor stared into the distance. With concentration he could make out movement beyond the Shroud. The Leeches were hard to see at the best of times as they are not fully of the Skinlands themselves. Only when they had just fed and the stolen soul energy hadn't had time to fade were they clearly visible. They had gathered into a group which was so unlike their kind. When such groups did form the area was usually swamped with Specters hoping to gain from the negative energies released.
The leeches were moving quickly from the area leaving the energies of oblivion behind them in what looked like a bar. T'Revor knew from experience that the bar in the Skinlands had become the mirror image of the same bar he sees in the Shadowlands. The life had left the bar and would not return quickly.
In the spirt world some things are visible that are not seen in the Skinlands and vice versa. The Vampires pass a street light with a steel box attached to the upper half. In the Shadowlands the box is twice as large with a cable leading from it into the sky. This cable glows with energy, more so after the Vampires pass. The box has little sentience but enough to obey its orders. If those with Sight had looked up all they would have seen would be a bright orange flash. To T'Revor it appeared to be an eye opening and shutting. The box saw the Vampires and saw them for what they are, reality deviants. A message to its masters must be sent. The cable throbs with energy as the signal passes through it. Soon the Technocracy would be aware of the Vampires journeys. That is if the message got through. T'Revor slices through the cable with his sword of Stygian steel. The cable recoils like a injured snake. The box screams in pain but is silenced by the Barghest. All this occurred in the blink of an eye. This was still enough time for someone, something to respond to the box's cry.
HIT Mark #201 turned northwards in recognition to the signal. The servos whined softly as it walked toward the intersection. Sensors probed for life then after no result probed again for that which did not belong. It soon picked up the Vampires. There were not as many as the box reported but it could see a few. Having a deficit of spirit the HIT Mark could not make out those who were obfuscated.
T'Revor could not allow this creature to interfere with his plans. To injure the HIT Mark or indeed to see it clearly he would have to go through the Shroud. Rather then pull himself straight through ripping the fabric of the umbra in the process, a signal which would draw unwanted attention, he looked for an ancher for his spirit. In the shadows stood a shape that belonged more in T'Revors world then in the world of the Vampires. The corpse was newly dead but the original soul had already been swallowed by oblivion. Only foul magicks kept it obeying orders. T'Revor used his sword to cut free of the magickal chains and slipped into the body in place of the original inhabitant. Crude but effective. Now he could see clearly. In his hand was the chain connecting him to the Barghest in the Shadowlands. With little time for options T'Revor pulled the Barghest from one world into the next. Being bearly sentient most of the time the animal would atract less attention then himself. The Barghest ripped through the Shroud and leaped at the Hit Mark at his master's command. The chain stretched without getting slimmer as the Barghest pulled away from the body that was T'Revor.
The Bargest's body was black and scaly and its huge paws ended in claes which were ripping up pieces of the road surface , scattering dust as it powered its way toward its victim. As the Barghest reached the HIT Mark the sound of its rasping breath was turning into a growling howl of blood lust. The Hit Mark started to turn but it was far to late. The beast-dog had opened its enormous jaws and was leaping at it, sinking its fangs into its neck. Ripping muscle, sinew and reinforced bone from tht HIT Marks body in one bite. Before anyone could move the beast had ripped open the HIT Mark's chest, spewing entrails and cybernetic components across the street. The HIT Mark opened its mouth to scream but its cry was short lived. Its body ruptured from the inside as the weight of the creature landed on its prone form. Its head had lolled to one side looking straight at the Vampires. The Barghest crunched through the HIT Mark's chest, blood and viscera hung from its mouth. The animal shook its head in triumph, spraying pieces of flesh and organs across the street.
Enough was enough. T'Revor returned the Barghest to the Shadowlands and let the chain pull him back with it. The abandoned body crumpled to the ground and soon into dust.
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"Come come now! Fight's over." Bellows JoN, from outside the terminal. His Rooster suit is drenched in blood and booze.
The group of MalKAviAns come out thru the hole in the wall.
Outside the only
light is that of the oncoming Toronto Police Department.
"UUUUmmm, guys, you don't know Canadian cops, (JoN rips out a piece of
pavement, which, by pure coincidence leads to the sewers) Go, I'll hold them
off." Even if some of you are more powerful and stuff, just go! You don't
know Canadian cops. GO! NOW!! RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The intensity of JoN's
voice fortells that he has experience dealing with Canadian cops, so the
others follow his advice and jump down the hole. fiend landing face down in
crap.
(Ed. Note: HAHAHAHAHAHA!)
JoN adjusts his 3D shades while all that can be heard is fiend's cursing and the sounds of oncoming sirens. JoN carefully slips out of his rooster suit and kneels to the ground, apparently preparing a ritual of some sort. Then, suddenly,with great speed comes a pasty looking fellow. He surprises JoN and grabs him by the collar.
"JoN...what are you doing here?" The short haired man says, seeming panicked as well as calm.
"Nick...we meet again!" JoN, recognising his favourite Canadian Police Officer, Nick Night, grins and takes hold of his left arm.
"JoN SMMASH!!! (I've always wanted to say that...and to do this!)" JoN throws around the detective, making him bounce off the cement several times. The sounds of police cars pulling up distracts JoN, who looks away from Nick.
Nick, however, having just received a severe beating, remembers the time in 1812 when he was in Spain, under the clever alias Nicko, and he was meeting with some kind of royal...
WHACK
JoN smacks Nick across the face with huge gangly claws that have sprouted from his hand. "PAY ATTENTION!" Screams JoN.
"...Pl...plea...please I am... weak..I ...I ....I..." are the only words Nick's caved in face can pronounce. JoN, disgusted at this weakling, kicks him in the ribs and leaves him to die. He walks to the police cars...
His face contorts and strengthens, mist swirls around his head and several peace officers run away or jump back in their cars. JoN, seizing the moment runs back to the hole, stepping on Nick's head along the way, and jumps in.
The MAlkaVians, who were debating if fiend looked more like Swamp Thing or Toxic the Avenger now that the fiend had taken a lite bath in sludge, are startled by JoN who leaps back in their midst.
"Taken care of...oops, no wait a sec." JoN grasps the opening of the hole and flips back outside. A tall man is now standing next to Nick, telling him "You need me Nicolas, this is just like the time..!"$!%HIYUK!!/$%%"
He coughs up blood as JoN ends his sentence with a stake in the back. The man slumps down, and starts to choke. JoN spits on him.
"God I hate you two." JoN walks back to the sewers, again kicking rather powerfully Nick across the Face. JoN dives back into the hole and avoids the sludge.
"Sorry people, Canuck stuff you understand...now...where do we go?"
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They all begin talking at the same time.
"North", "south", "Australia", "R R R Russia", "I hear egypt is nise this
time of year", "Waddaya say", "Get that disgusting bunny away from me.",
"Did anyone bring any peanuts?"
A discreet cough from behind them stops them all talking....
From the shadows steps 'something'.
A ghastly wreck of a person, so hideous that that only H.P. Lovecraft would
know how to describe and John Carpenter would use it in a film.
"fiend!" They all shout.
The Nosferatu sighs....
"Not quite my friends."
'It' said while rubbing together those twisted lumps of flesh which are probably
hands by virtual that they are of dubious appendages that are its arms
(possibly).
"You may call me Julius and let me be the first to welcome you to our warren,
however did you find the guest entrance?"
Before they could begin to ask questions, 'Julius' holds up a warped Talon to silence them (which really casts doubt on what he was rubbing together earlier on).
"Not here, perhaps there are question I can answer, and we certainly have questions for you....."
He beckons them to follow him through the sewer and they diligently follow him through the crap.
"Lots of brown f f f fish down here!"
Eventually Julius stops and appears to step into a dark alcove.
After a little hesitation, the first Malk steps in.
"Please wipe your feet" says Julius indicating the "Welcome" mat and the rather spendid lounge decorated with velevt drapes, persian carpets, low couches and a naked person hanging upside down covered in bites marks and decidely pale (but not yet dead).
"Welcome to my humble abode, perhaps we can all talk...."
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Erehwon quickly steps to the fore of the group, thinking fast. "Interesting reaction. He meets a group of obvious Malkavians, and his first reaction is to invite them into his haven for parlance? Something is most decidedly misplaced here."
Fearlessly extending a hand for the creature to shake, Erehwon smiles cautiously and says, "My name is Erehwon. We..." instead of finishing with "are searching for a creature we believe to be the legendary sphinx," Erehwon decides to end with, "...are merely lost Malkavians. My compatriots here are attempting to relocate themselves. Now, Julius, if you'll excuse us, I believe we must be on our way."
Upon mixed response from the remaining Malkavians, Julius smoothly interposed himself in the doorway. "No, please. I really would appreciate it if you could stay for just a few minutes."
Erehwon started to interject, but a quiet word from Julius silenced him. "Quiet." Omnicynic looked suspicious, Handel seemed to think something might be wrong, but the rest of the Malkavians seemed content to sit and jabber among themselves for the moment.
"'d you see how I bashed that screwy father guy?????? Now, THAT'S pain!!!!!!!"
"w w w where're we gonna go after this?"
whimper
"hey, where'd my twin go? i coulda sworn he was just here, and it's not like me to lose track...."
snarl
Meanwhile, the Nosferatu excused himself into a room adjoining, with the words, "One moment, please. I'll be right back."
Erehwon pulled over Handel and Omni, and began scribbling on his notepad....
* * *
"You're sure you can extract knowledge from these Malks?"
The small birdlike creature turned to the Nosferatu. its eyes gleaming. "My master can take the knowledge from them all. Her ways are not your own, nor should you think so. She has gone through great trouble to find these creatures, and even more to direct them here. All you need to do is to keep them here for the remainder of the night."
"Fine, as long as I'm getting my part of the deal; every Kindred secret these buggers know, I want it, and I'll get it."
"Yes, you will certainly receive your due." Then, with a hiss, "But be certain to keep them here until the sun has set tomorrow! Is that understood?"
"Obviously."
"Then go. They become restless."
* * *
Indeed, by the time Julius had returned, much of the room was in disarray. Most of the objects in the room were being used as playthings, and the hanging body was being batted back and forth like an oversized pinata.
"My friends!" Exclaimed Julius, with a smile on his face. "Please, make use of anything you should like. I am certain you must need a place to stay for the day, yes?"
"sure, but that's not for a while," said ME
"Please, feel free to remain here until then. Should you have information to trade, I should hope you would speak with me."
"Hah! Gotcha, loser!" called JoN from another room.
Ignoring the outburst, Julius continued. "If there is anything further I can do, do not hesitate to ask."
* * *
By this time, Erehwon had regained his voice, and he was in deep conference with Handel and Omnicynic.
"Even if we don't trust him, we may as well take whatever hospitality he offers." said Omnicynic. "After all, what could he really do?"
"I am uncertain as to that point, but I still feel that we should most certainly not remain in this Kindred's abode for the remainder of the night? Why would he invite a group of Malkavians into his home, not to mention effectively granting them free reign over his domicile?" Erehwon looked at Handel.
"Well, sure, he seems harmless, but Ere could be right. I mean, who knows? Maybe he's working for the Tremere," spoke Handel, slurring his words very slightly.
"In any case, I think we may as well wait until something happens. I'll keep an eye out, but he hasn't done anything terribly harmful yet," said Omnicynic.
"To each his own. I am plan to inspect the premises, in any case. Please, tell the others to be careful," after which, and a quick glance around, Erehwon promptly disappeared into the shadows.
* * *
"Typical Nosferatu material. I don't dare disturb anything, in case he perceives the slight and suspects that we may be suspicious. In any case, I cannot see if he has any other information in here. Perhaps in this room...."
Erehwon, still under his obfuscated guise, crept into the next room. As he entered, the creature within immediately looked directly at him and hissed.
"Odd. Apparently a feline creature, yet it possesses the means of flight...there is a high possibility of this being another form of the sphinx...and it perceives me. This does not bode well. "
Erehwon tried to flee, but found himself frozen in space, and now visible; unable to move but the slightest amount, and only able to speak, he was trapped. "Ah, little Malkavian. You escaped once, but I do not think that you shall do so again. Perhaps now I shall see what power lies within one of your minds."
Flapping its wings, the creature flew into the air, and over towards Erehwon. Thinking quickly, Erehwon spoke:
"Often talked of, never seen
Ever coming, never been
Daily looked for, never here,
Still approaching, coming near
Thousands for my visit wait,
But alas for their fate
Though they expect me to appear,
They will never find me here.
"What am I?"
"Eh? Very well." The creature hovered in midair, pondering. "I believe my ability shall serve duly in this case. My mistress shall be most pleased. The answer, in your case, child, is 'Victory.'"
With that word, Erehwon was freed. He smiled, and, before he ran back towards the room containing the rest of the Malkavians, said, "Unfortunately, that answer is incorrect. The answer to this riddle is 'Tomorrow'."
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