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Sammy stood in the middle of Corin Park and fiddled with his pocket. The park was eerie and menacing in the darkness. A large pool of water, still warm from the day's heat, gave off vapors in the cool night air. Sammy glanced up yet again at the sky, tracking the small plane. He wished Parr would get back. He somehow felt that she knew what she was doing.
Then again, thinking of Parr made him feel guilty. After she had left the study to go make arrangements with Bob, he had done something; something bad. He wasn't really a bad person, but he had always been a bit of a kleptomaniac. Well, perhaps that wasn't the word, Sammy wasn't great with words, but he was a curious sort. And he had a urge. He had an uncontrolable urge to reach into the bag. Trepidaciously, he had snuck back behind the desk and slid his left hand into the odd bag. He felt something small, papery. He withdrew his hand and turned his back to the open door, carefully holding his prize, and then sneeked a peek at it. It was an After Eight (tm) mint. A dinner mint. He had reached into a powerful arcane object, one designed to produce whatever single object would be of the most help to its user, and he had recived a dinner mint ? Not only was he disappointed, but it was a blow to his self esteem, as well. Did the bag think he had bad breath? He had pocketed the mint and stalked off after Parr, in a bad mood.
Now, standing in the middle of the kiddie park in the chill air, he was getting bored, so he started fiddling with it. It was going to melt and go all sticky in his pocket, but he didn't care. He was so busy fiddling with it that he didn't even notice the man untill a soft and snickery voice in his ear said "Am I interupting something?" Sammy jumped a good 6 inches into the air.
Whipping his head back and forth, he looked all around, but saw nothing. As he turned in circles, the voice spoke again. "Look up, man."
Dangling by his legs from a high beam that supported various swings was a pale young man with a slightly manical smile. His Darth Vader shirt and short, black hair were framed by his black trenchcoat, which hung down comicly behind him. A soft, rythmic jingle came from his purple and black jester's hat, which was somehow staying on his head in defiance of gravity.
"I'm Jester, the Malkavian. Nice to meet you." He took off his hat with a graceful sweep of his hand and nodded his head slightly upward. Then he put the hat back on his head, but it didn't stay this time and fell to the ground. His eyes followed it and he sighed. "Damn, I hate when that happens." Swinging forward he grabbed the bar in his hands and released it with his legs, righted himself and swung down. As Sammy openly gaped Jester retrieved his hat and carefully settled it back onto his head, half cocked.
Parr said a quick prayer of thanks as the tiny Cessna bumped back to the ground. Sweet, lovely ground. So very....groundy. Solid. Not like this hell-bent leaf-in-the-wind in which she'd been riding. She'd bumped her head 34 times. She had counted, each and every one--it had broken the tedium. Stumbling out of the plane, she politely thanked Bob again and mumbled a few choice words under her breath. She was already in debt to Daran, which she didn't like, but she'd heard of an arcane spell which would make a man fear his own genitalia...
Stepping off of her bike an half hour later, she stopped to take a final glance at the sky. The message was still there, still brightly illuminated from below. Perhaps this was all going to work...perhaps others would see it! But there was only two hours until sunrise. In two short hours she was going to have to organize heaven-knows how many Malks and get them into safety from the sun. Good Lord, she hated responsiblity, it...
"...SONOFABITCH THROW RUGS!!!"
*What the bloody hell was that??* Parr ducked behind the nearest tree. Thirty feet away, a man, vampire, was screaming at a soggy Garou. Actually, the man was quite soggy as well. He and the werewolf exchanged a few more words, and then he began running her way, his long waterloged ponytail bobbing. Running right her way. Parr searched for an appropriate responce. "Aghhhhhhh!" she yelled.
The man skidded to a halt and took a double look at the tree. "Wha???" Then he slowly peered around it. "Aha!" he cried and she flinched again. "Parr, right? Damnded fleabags at least put me in the right place. Well, are you ready? Ere 'n the rest are waiting!"
"Er......Ere? What? Huh?"
"The other Malkavians....you know...they're in Toronto. You better hurry up and get there! C'mon c'mon!" The hyperactive Malk gave her a poke, and then took off in the general direction of the meeting place. Left in a whirlwind of confusion, Parr threw caution to the wind and followed obediently. *Well I did send a message to my fellow Malk* she thought, * so I guess I should have been expecting them...*
"What's your name?!" she yelled at the figure ahead.
"I can't remeber!" he yelled back. "Just call me 'Torchy', everybody does!"
*Torchy?!?* She thought all vampires hated fire; she certainly did. Hmmm...well, as long as he didn't set fire to anything connected to her, she guessed that'd be allright. Hey, things were working out! She smiled and ran on.
Eventually Parr reached the clearing where Sammy was waiting. He told her
that he'd had to turn away a number of humans who had been curious as to what
the message said. Interestingly enough, though, no other vampires or mages
had come. She supposed that they knew enough to stay away from a Malkish
gathering.
After introductions had gone all around, Parr, Sammy, Jester and Torchy
settled down to devise a strategy. Torchy explained, in short, rapid
sentences the situation in the Toronto bar that he had found. Parr was
overwhelmed. It now appeared that their collective problem went far beyond
being harrased by a powerful magical being, and now also included
Inquisitors, Tremere and God knows what else. She couldn't even begin to
fathom if they were all connected or not...surely this sort of thing didn't
happen all the time? Perhaps it only did when they all got together...a
certain mass of Malk in the area could result in complete and utter havoc!
She smiled.
A desicion was made to join their fellows in Toronto, which wasn't that far away. Sammy, Jester and Torchy ran off to 'appropriate' some sort of vehicle; Parr said she'd stay behind and wait for stragglers. Standing alone in the park, she kept a lonely vigil for half an hour. Was that it? Four vampires? Somehow she'd hoped for something more. There must be more than four Malkavians in a city of this size...
She was just starting to sing to herself again when she noticed a large group of people coming. There were four, no five of them, all Kindred, and they were variously bouncing, running, jumping and skipping. Oh joy! She ran forward to meet them.
"It's wonderful, dear." The elegant vampire in the front was saying to another. Then she turned and smiled at Parr. "So, where are we headed? A wall told Mercari a few hours ago that the Tremere might be involved with whatever the heck is going on and quite frankly it scared the dickens out of Heron. I had to step in." A dreamy smile crossed her face, and she seemed totally unaware that a large and yucky bug had just landed on it. Ahhh, bugs! She hated bugs! Parr crept foward slowly...
"Imagine. Being able to associate with something OTHER than Malkavians and bums..."
SMACK! Parr missed the bug completely and gave the vamp a nasty blow to the face. Oh, just bloody great. THIS was going to help relations along, yes sir indeedy. Then, to her utter amazement, one of the others gave the lead vampire a blow to the other cheek. "WASN'T ME" she yelled happliy, "IT WAS PARR!" Parr was about to defend herself when a third vampire picked up the second and gave her a shake. "Dominate doesn't work like that, kid. NEVER smack your sire around, got it?" The three..no, five of them were starting to remind her of the three Stooges. She watched silently as they bonked and fleshcrafted each other. This was the cavalry? She smacked herself on the head. What had she been expecting?
After they had settled down a bit, they had introductions all around. Then Parr, Mercari, Glory, Day, Genevieve and Heron ran down the hills to the parking lot, to the vehicle which awaited to transport them to Toronto...
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The air throbbed and pulsed around Spooke (who was doing his own share of both) - all except for one small patch that hung silent and still, radiating worry.
%SPITZ IS GONE WHERE IS SPITZ%
* * *
In far off Toronto (or is it Egypt?), just -7 (or +2) hours from Denmark, Spitz was sitting comfortably and having conned a good meal out of Chriss, who was now sulking.
The Malks were debating. Many voices, all shouting to no-one, but themselves.
"So this whole thing is based on us having a single word?"
"That would be an accurate assesment of the situation."
"Can my word be 'Ketchup'?"
"T T T Toilet-roll?"
"Thats 2 words nit!" thud
"Awwwww"
"But why?"
"The entity who may or may not be the sphinx believes that by getting a few words from a few Malkavians, it would know the secret to eveything."
_pause_
"B B B But thats impossible."
Several sets of psychotic eyes turned towards Chriss. He realised that if he didn't explain that comment and fast, he would be in trouble, BIG trouble.
"OK, take the words, the, dagger, poison, where, as, it, does, hit, dead, king, prince, calaban, duke, knife, et, heart, pluck, see, sail, storm, grave, poor, honour, seek, merchant, and, but, he, is, can, shall, not, plus a few more 'the' for luck a a a and then you have an assortment of words, y y y yes?"
"Yes, that would seem logical. So what is the point?"
"Right try, deducing the c c c complete works of william shakespeare from just a handful of words, you can't, even if you had all the words from all the malks that h h h have ever existed, they would still be a jumble and have no idea how to make a sentence...."
They thought about this....
Spitz heard something, he wasn't sure.... he pricked up his ears.
* * *
Spooke lifted a hand weakly and pawed at the shifting blue colors. "Sire?..." he rattled sadly, blood tears running down his cheeks. "Why don't you know me, Sire? Why don't you remember me..." Suddenly he stiffened, and in a clear, calm voice said, "Tomorrow."
%ASH IS HURT POOR ASH SPITZ IS GONE WHERE IS SPITZ%
* * *
Spitz started to whimper and nuzzle up to Chriss.
"Hey w w w whats up boy?"
whine whine whimper
"You wanna go walkies?"
whine WHINE
"Is something wrong?"
howl whimper
#Jeez, Lassie would have been understood by now!#
"Is T T T Timmy trapped down the bottom of a mine with a broken leg.....?"
whine
"A A A And there's a fallen tree across the railway track and the express is coming.....?"
#NO YOU CRETIN, ITS NOT TIMMY, IT'S SPOOKE#
"So spooke i i i is trapped down the bottom of a mine with a broken leg.....?"
#NONONONO Nooooo..... You heard me, ITS SPOOKE SPOOKESPOOKESPOOKESPOOKESPOOKE!#
"Hey guys, w w w we forgot about spooke. erm, I seem to remember something about nasty men, I gotta go find him."
* * *
Meanwhile in Denmark.
Spooke is curled up on the floor singing nursery rhymes and remembering being in a school playground.
He failed to notice the ping as the lift doors opened.
"Your floor" said Handel.
Chriss was holding a large cucumber and a mallet.
"Tell me again, what am I I I I supposed to do with this and to whom....?"
The lift doors closed and vanished.
Chriss turned around just as the wave of emotions from Spookes mind washes over him and drowns him......
* * *
Spitz nervously whined a bit, then stopped. Did HE bring this on?? He whuffed nervously over Chriss, who had rolled into a fetal curl and lay mumbling and drooling and sucking his thumb.
Spitz glanced over at the Others. They didn't seem to notice. They were talking about going to Egypt. Spooke had told him about Egypt. He said they worshipped cats there. Spitz wrinkled his nose and leaned down to get a better sniff of Chriss...
* * *
Spooke's neurosis was in full swing and unfortunately Chriss always gets caught up in other peoples delusions/insanity/whatever.
He briefly remembered being overwhelmed by the memories from Lord Byron the previous summer, that incident had cost him dearly.
Spooke sprawled out on the floor was regressing deep into his childhood and was crying for his mummy.
The wave was to much and Chriss succumbed....
Songs, Children's songs....
"Ring a ring of roses,
a pocket full of poses......"
"Goosey Goosey Gander,
wither shall I wander....."
"London bridge is falling down...."
A school room,
"As Mr Fieldhouse found it so funny, perhaps he can recite his
12 times table for us...."
A play-ground.
A ring of boy around Chriss, pushing and teasing
"You're hopeless Fieldhouse, cowardly, cowardly, ......"
"L L L Leave Me alone!" Chriss shouts.
The Boys reply by mocking his stutter, but the bullies are cowards an' run away
when a teacher comes near, Chriss runs the opposite way, he won't tell what
happenend 'cos that always makes things worse.
At the edge of the playground is a young boy, his knees grazed where the bullies
pushed him to the ground. The boy is sobbing, the tears leave a trial through
the dirt on his face.
"I want my Mommy!"
"I I I I'm not your mommy."
"I know, I don't know who she is and I'm scared cos no-one loves me..."
* * *
He nosed Chriss, who was curled up in his seat sobbing and stuttering about schools and mummies.
#Mummies?? Egypt?? Aaaahhhgg!!#
The last came less as a result of the thought of people in ancient body casts as from the fact that Chriss had just whipped an arm around his neck and was squooshing him against his chest.
* * *
Spitz watched as Chriss regressed....
He watched the two malks on the floor talk as children, but Spooke's statement
about no-one loving him, hurt Spitz, 'cos Spitz loved him.
he walked slowly over and began to wash Spooke.
"Spitzy, its my Spitzy..."
Chriss was not sure where he was, was this a play-ground or somebody's apartment. Which was reality. He looked around, he saw a pair of long scissors, but it was a rock on the playground. He picked it up, placed his hand flat on the floor/ground and poised with the rock/scissors above the hand.
Spitz and Spooke were busy being reunited, but Chriss had to find a way out, so he plunged the object (which may or may not be a rock or scissors) onto/into his hand.
The scissors won.
* * *
But this was no time to panic. Especially since Chriss had him in a headlock and the world was shooting fireworks in the growing dark.
With desperate doggy-slipperyness, Spitz thrashed around and sank his teeth into Chriss' hand.
* * *
Chriss screamed with pain, Spitz reacted immediately and backed away, ears flat.
The scream woke Spooke with a jolt.
"What? where? who?"
He saw Chriss who had stopped screaming and was looking at his impailed hand, spooke slowly pulled the scissors out, "Really shouldn't leave these in reach of children."
* * *
Spitz was half-strangled and Spitz was on a mission, but he was still, essentially, a doggie. Sensing the deep disquiet and sadness in Chriss, he softly gave him a swipe of his tongue.
SLURP
When even smelly dogspit failed to make Chriss feel better, Spitz, twisted around until he could reach Mr.Bunny. Nose wrinkled in disgust, he dropped the stinking dead pile of fur into Chriss' arms.
* * *
Chriss pulled out a hankerchief and began to wrap the mutilated hand. "T T T Thanks." and he put an arm around Spooke.
"I'm sorry, its my mommy, I mean my sire, I want to know who they are."
"Shhhhhhhh, its ok, it will a a a all be fine now, take it easy, I'll help you find your sire, I promise."
* * *
Immediately, Chriss calmed. Spitz gave a sigh of relief. The Dead Rabbit Man was ok now. ...But what about Spooke??
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Spooke moaned and shifted, unable to remove the silver spike from his chest. Seeing a "This Area Under Construction" sign over his body, his mind went wandering...
* * *
"Go Tiber if that is what you really desire," the Dark Walker said, his voice heavy with amusement, tinged with bitterness. A black horror with a foaming maw full of demonic fangs that glistened with slime grew dizzyingly in his view, the stench of charred fur was heavy and suffocating in the dead air, the monster barreling toward him LEAPED -
- and Alex neatly sidestepped, chopping his teeth into the bloody great creature's groin as it landed.
* * *
"Stupid animal," Spooke groaned. "Always was too swaggery for his own fuzzy little butt's good. Always getting into fights..."
A small smile curled Spooke's lips, almost imperceptibly.
* * *
A hand was coming into view, closer and closer... Alex bristled at the stranger who came so close, but then heard a faint command: "Alex, no!! Be a good boy!!"
Obediently, he accepted the scroll that formed in his mouth (although he couldn't resist slobbering on it a little), and allowed the Dark Walker to take it.
* * *
Spooke thought frantically. "I have to warn the others!! THEY are here, too!! THEY'll try to kill them!! Oh, but Alex will run away if the... damn!!"
* * *
T'Revor took the scroll out of the dogs mouth and read the contents.
"...heed my messenger and return with him. He means no harm but keep him away from the washing. Strange things are amiss and we are but a few..."
T'Revor was confused by the message. It must be a form of code or did it belong to those of the dark path he aided earlier ?
* * *
Satisfied that this spook would help him, Spooke relaxed (inasmuch as that was possible while he had a spike in his chest). Easily he reached out to Spitz...
* * *
Spitz pricked up his ears. Then, with a whuff and a snort, he shook himself (doghairs flying everywhere) and trotted happily to Chriss.
"M m m m mummy... s'o okay..." Chriss stated reassuringly.
Ignoring this piece of information, Spitz tugged impatiently at Chriss' sleeve.
Nothing.
Ears laid back in exasperation, Spitz tugged delicately on a part of Mr Bunny that seemed least decomposed.
"W w w WHAT??" Chriss yelped, shooting into an upright position. "SCISSORS!! ...I'd have p p preferred the paper," he mumbled confusedly, staring at the hand with teeth marks in it. Spitz curled up and pretended to be innocently asleep.
Momentarily, Chriss' features went blank. Mechanically, he stood up and turned in a slow circle, as though searching for something, some idea at the very edge of his thoughts. Then his face cleared, and he ran, stumbling in his haste, to the Reverend.
* * *
Spooke listened to a tuneless humming, altered it briefly to a song, then
lapsed back into tunelessness. "Dark Helmet," he murmered before his eyes
drifted shut.
Exhausted, he slept.
* * *
"R r r r r r r r!!" he attempted frantically, pointing in varying directions randomly. Omnicynic stared at him uncomprehendingly.
"R r reverend O o o o o omnicy cy cy," Chriss tried again, his face becoming increasingly flushed. Spitz lifted his head and gazed at them, dismayed. What if he couldn't get the message across??
"P p p p p p portal," Chriss managed. "S s s Spooke n needs a-"
That was as far as he got before the Rev.Omnicynic was gone, folded back into a shadow.
* * *
T'Revor reached into his cloak and retrieved his Mask of Office. Putting on the mask he restrained the Barghest again and turned to the dog.
"Well?"
The dog scampered away toward a slowly opening vortex in the Tempest. The roar of the dark winds was muffled to the three travelers as they passed from the Shadowlands into another world.
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while exploring the two fiends have found a sarcophagous (bless you)
after trying to get a reaction out of it and see if it would move the two single beings looked at each other and grinned. both heaved and strained to set up the tomb so that the next malk to walk down the corridor would have a long dead corpse throwing itself into their arms.
"i've yet to see a gothic that looked that pleasant," said the fiend.
both rolled around on the floor in laughter and hushed each other quiet, waiting for the unsuspecting victim.........
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Parr didn't know what she had been expecting them to find, but this wasn't
it. It was a medium-sized Greyhound bus. Well, it might once have been a
medium-sized bus, but now it resembled something out of 'Mad Max' or perhaps
the once-an-episode project of the 'A-Team'. Large metal plates had been
clumsily yet securely welded over all the side and back windows, leaving only
the windshield uncovered. A large mass of metal attached to the front looked
like a clumsy battering ram. Layer after layer of spraypaint decorated the
sides, and a 'How is my Driving?' sticker was plastered on the back. The head
of the Greyhound on the side had been altered to an unmistakable clan symbol.
It had no plates.
Standing in front of this monstrosity and looking sheepish were her new friends. Sammy and Jester were rubbing various quickly-healing bruises, and Torchy had quite a shiner. Behind them, grinning, was a tough, young vamp in clothes and hair that literally screamed 'Brujah'. She smiled and swung a baseball bat up and down rythmically. To her left a sullen ghoul with stringy hair took a long drag on a cigarette.
"We....that is...uh..." stammered Sammy as he caught Parr's stare. Jester stepped forward with a lopsided grin and said "Parr, meet Anna, Clan Brujah. She's uh....'agreed' to take us to Toronto." Torchy laughed a little and winced. "We tried to take her bus, but she didn't like that...once she had her shoe on my head we got a little more friendly and told her what we were doing...she seemed intrigued by our story and decided to help us out." He placed his palm to his left eye. "Just watch out for the bat!"
Parr took a minute to take it all in. So they'd gotten their butts whipped by this Brujah, and then she decides to help? A bit odd. Actually, quite odd, but she was a Malk so she couldn't complain...and they could use all the help they could get...
Once again introductions were given all around, and then the assorted Kindred got on the bus. "Skummy" the ghoul would drive all day, fueled by blood and nicotine, and get them to the Toronto airport by nightfall, while the vampires rested.
The back of the bus was a mobile Brujah lair. Black light posters, subversive comix and crates of 'Mar-blow' cigs were scattered all about. Jester and Torchy fought over the couch, while Mercari and Heron settled down to browse the extensive comix collection. Parr found a soft spot of floor and curled up into a fetal position, using one of the extra black coats (they were everywhere!) as a blanket. Time to sleep, to rest...
Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we WHAM!!
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