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Mr Badger sat in an all night cafe waiting for something to happen. Luckily he didn't have to wait long. An Arabian looking gentleman sat down beside him and ordered a cup of kill-you-stone-dead coffee. Mr Badger looked on in amusement, there's nothing he likes better than a person who drinks really strong coffee. When the stranger swallowed the kill-you-stone-dead coffee without an emotion crossing his face Mr Badger looked more deeply at the figure opposite him. Smells wrong somehow he thought, ah that's it! He smells of wolf!
The man looked straight at Mr Badger and introduced himself as He-Who-Brings- Help, another Silent Strider. He gave a brief summary of what the people in Toronto had been up to in the past couple of nights. Mr Badger laughed at the antics displayed and wished he'd been there to give a more balanced account of the story so far. It seemed that the Silent Striders were upset at the attitude of the Glass Walkers, wanting to be the Tribe that gave the most help. The Striders were going one better and actively interfering in the plot. He offered to transport Mr Badger to his friends who sorely needed his aid. With an offer like that who could possibly refuse?
The Strider moonbridge was found at the centre of a nearby oasis (surprise surprise) .
After outfitting Mr Badger with necessary supplies they opened the portal to the Umbra. They laughed at the suggestion of coming with Mr Badger.
"What do you think? That we're stupid? We'd love to come with you on this suici... interesting journey but wouldn't you know it but I promised to take my hide in for a dry clean this week, sorry!"
With that Mr Badger left the Garou and entered the Umbra for destination unknown.
Meanwhile in another time and space the bus load of Malkavians were having a few problems.
"What do you mean we were speeding?" Complained Handel to the Space/Time Continuum Department of the Void Engineers.
"Look mate, we'll let you off this once but don't let us catch you violating the laws of casualty again. Reality deviants shouldn't be here in the first place so I suggest you lot pack up and return to the Gaia sphere where you belong. Bloody Vampires, give them a chance to come into the Umbra and they take over the place and while you're at it get that Vampire off your front windscreen! Garfield's and Mr Blobbys are all right but no supernatural creatures blocking your view!" The Two Void Engineers left our Malkavians to scraping Spooke off the front of the bus.
"What we need is a giant spatula," said Handel.
"I've got this spade," replied Parr.
"SO HAVE WE!" Cried every person on the bus. Spade carrying seemed to be the latest fashion in the near Umbra.
At this point Mr Badger appeared out of a glowing tunnel of light.
"Ooooooh!" Cried a bunch of Malkavians whose names I can't be bothered writing down.
"Ooooooh, fuzzy!" Cried ME, just to be different.
Mr Badger took one look at the number of exposed spades and quickly put on a Pith helmet for protection.
"Take it easy guys," he then saw the female members of the bus crew advancing with political correctness blazing in their eyes, "I mean take it easy people. Put down the garden instruments. Walk away from the spades!"
Once the correct non male/female personal pronoun was used the crowd settled down and the spades were stored wherever it is that spades are stored now days. Inside jackets Highlander style? Across the back ala Nasir from Robin of Sherwood? Who knows?
Mr Badger reached up and unstuck Spooke while taking the opportunity to stand on Spooke's throat. Write bad things about coffee will you, well you won't do it again.
Alex bit Mr Badger on the ankle for being a bully but ran away before Mr Badger could return the favour. Smart little doggy.
Handel held the traffic infringement ticket rather sheepishly and offered Mr Badger a seat on the bus.
At this point another rip in the space time continuum appeared. Out of it came a cycle courier carrying a parcel wrapped in paper.
"Parcel for Mr Care! Parcel for Mr Handel Care!" Cried the Neon Latex clad bike rider.
"I'm Mr Care," replied Spooke but gave up the attempt at humour when Handel glared at him.
Handel signed for the parcel and found to his great joy that it was a bottle of Rum. "Ah sweet Rum. Liquid of the gods themselves. How I have missed thee on my journeys. Most dark and tasty of the liquids etc etc ."
The kid from the 'Where's Wally? Courier Co', they'll find you no matter where you are, left Handel to his blathering.
"Hey Handel, does Rum usually tick like that?" Asked Parr.
"Can't talk, drinking," replied Handel as he started to unscrew the top of the bottle.
At about this point Mr Badger decided it was about the right time to tell Handel about the contract on his life, then again maybe later.
The bottle exploded, covering everyone in Rum splatter. No one was seriously hurt except for Handel who had just seen his Idol going up in flames.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Cried out guess who.
Those evil Tremere, destroying a man by killing what he loves most. They know that a Malkavian would willingly give his/her life in exchange for the absurd but could not standby while their loved ones suffered. The Malkavians comforted Handel while Mr Badger rolled around on the ground in glee ( that'll teach you for agreeing with Spooke about the coffee thing).
Once Handel had licked everyone clean of the Rum residuals, except Mr Badger who threatened him with massive tissue damage if he even looked like thinking about it, the Malkavians got back into the bus and went on their merry (except Handel) way.
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He sits in an all night Cafe dreaming about companions far from him. The dreams could be true - who's to know. From out of the mists of his imagination he hears a voice overriding all the others. This voice reminds him of times long gone from now and places found far away. This lone voice brings the first real emotion to him he has felt in years, years that blend into centuries. Time has fled and with it packmates and friends. Some he called both, others fell before earning the name. Some fell in battle, others fell by deceit, all were untimely. His eyes find Kine all around him. Some laughing, some crying, others just passing the time like he. I wonder if they realise the futility of their existence? If they know how close they are to death just sitting near me now. A small misfortune of coming to this cafe could mean the end of their hopes and dreams. Tonight is not the night. Mr Badger gets up and leaves the living to their pursuits.
As he walks the tourist strips Mr Badger knows he must leave the lights and dwell in the shadows again. He believes in killing, but killing for a reason. He is not hungry, so preying upon such as these would be out of boredom alone. This goes against his path but he is a slave to no one, not even his true self. As he walks the people around become fewer and fewer in number - soon he is alone with his thoughts. The voice returns stronger than before. His thoughts again turn to his packmates. He wonders where they are and what they're doing. Strange, his thoughts also turn to those members of the Camarilla he has been fighting beside. Mr Badger turns and looks at the sky. It has been many a night since we drew blood together. If his Sabbat leaders knew about the company he has been keeping he would be torn apart. But the Camarilla does not seem as bad once you see the entire picture. The Tremere need to be destroyed before they sacrifice us all to the Antediluvians and so do the Ventrue. He knows little about the other Clans but the Malkavians seem to be drawn together by a common bond, a bond not of the blood but of the mind. These other Malkavians accepted him with no conditions or proof of his courage. That they have fought beside him and he has fought for them would be considered treason?
He walks further along the outskirts of the city. The city is as alive as it would be during the day but not many will brave the shadows. The voice troubles Mr Badger again. Could he do more to help his.....friends? Yes they are his friends. More than packmates and much more than the chaff he has used as fodder before in fights. The voice quietens as he realises they are friends. Still, what could he do to help them? Fighting is what he knows best. The thinking is best left to the pack leader but with no pack to run with there is no one else left. That leaves only me. Alone again, but it has never bothered me before. Why am I afraid of being alone now? Maybe because now I have so much more to lose. The voice starts to dig deep again.
My companions are in no danger. I would feel it if they were. Why do my thoughts keep returning to them. The voice gets louder, drowning out everything else. Thoughts are harder to form. It is different to when the Beast is at the surface. Then the thoughts are fast and wild. All becomes centered around one concept survival. Now nothing makes sense. Nothing except my companions and their wellbeing. Would I sacrifice myself to save them? As a last resort I would. A warming thought that has never occured to him before. The voice loses strength again.
Dawn draws near and it is time to sleep. What is wrong with me? Why is it different to before? Why won't you leave me alone!
As Mr Badger returns to the Setite Shrine he knows what is wrong. It has been too long. Far too long. He has almost forgotten the joy of sharing, of being part of a greater whole. He knows why his thoughts are filled with the need to belong. The time has come again. Its time for the Vaulderie. The time of sharing and reaffirming one's commitment. Mr Badger smiles again with genuine pleasure. It has been along time. The voice becomes silent once more.
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The bus THUMPed solidly down onto the ground and the bus was filled with soft blue starlight. Singing could be heard, not far off.
lisa looked around herself nervously. "Stop with the music and the starlight, they might get the wrong idea." smiles, "Actually that would be the trade winds, and those would be sounds of construction, but if that's your taste in music..."
Omnicynic's voiced rose questioningly above the sound of surf: "I didn't know they held luaus in- WHAT THE FUCK????"
lisa smiles, "Welcome to Hawaii, um and all that, um if you will just fill out these forms we can get on with the, um, luau.... Actually, um, I would not be of the Hawaiian variety, therefore I do not actually do luaus, but, um, I do throw tea parties..."
A brief pause, Omnicynic closed his eyes and leaned back against the front kinda seat buffer thing they have on those buses. When he opened his eyes again, the other malks were just begining to comprehend that perhaps something was amiss. All except one, who just sniggered a little bit, and Handel, who was still having a somewhat uninspired conversation with the wall.
"We ain't in Kansas no more, Toto," said Omnicynic. Looks like we're on Waikiki beach, Hawaii." Spooke gave the reverend an "I told ya so" look, which Omnicynic blithely ignored.
"Anyone for seafood? Oh, hey, isn't lisa or someone like there living around here? Maybe we should find 'em and crowd this vehicle even more, eh?"
The door of the bus opened just as several dozen natives approached to see just how a continental vehicle drove to their island...
"Actually there's just me, but if you give me a minute, I can bring out Kronin." Reaches into green bag. "Yep, there's only been me here for quite some time now. They, the rest of them, they stopped coming here about January or so. Oh and you better watch out, these beaches can be dangerous at night, or so they tell me."
Pulls out a magic tea party set. "I guess that isn't a while. But it seems like forever," Brushes tear from eye, starts setting places for everyone. "So, uh, what brings you to our, uh, lovely islands?" Pours tea for everyone. "I don't suppose this is particularly exciting, is it?" Looks around, "But I suppose I could call my sister, and she could give you a more wild time." Sips "tea" and attempts to make pleasant conversation.
"You see there was a Tremere here for a while, and he came from Housten, and he told this Toreador that his deck wasn't cursed. And there was this really big dog which hung around this Nosferatu which my mommy told me to stay away from, the dog I mean, although I suppose the Nosferatu too since he was near the dog, and there was this guy who called himself the Lord of Mosquitoes who wandered around and tried to give my mommy's ghoul some tarnished coins but Dalv wasn't really interested. It's kind of cold don't you think, no you guys would be from the mainland wouldn't you. It gets a lot colder there doesn't it? Well, I still say it's cold. Then there was my Uncle Fizzgig who was a bit of a pain, but I liked him. My mommy was kind of sane too, and talked to the Tremere because he was a doctor too. And until my mommy came, I was the only Malkavian one there and this Brujah was trying to take over my mind and then he tried to get me to vote, but I learned he wanted me to vote for my Brujah daddy who I liked. It had something to do about the Ventrue prince not being around as he had walked into Waikiki and never come out. Bad place Waikiki, maybe you'd like it if you were looking for something exciting. The Toreador would always ask me where the other Malkavians were like I was supposed to know so I told him they were taken by the aliens. Nasty people them aliens, but they wouldn't take me, because I'm one of them. When my mommy came I was so happy, expecially becuse of the vote since my mommy told me I had to be nice to the Ventrue prince..." trails off (at last) and goes to sleep. Wakes up. Puts magic tea party set away.
Looks around, confused, "Jeanette? Alita? Mommy? Daddy....?"
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Sammy looked around. It was like...it was like heaven. An insane jumble of colors, sounds, words, feelings, things that a normal person should not have to experience. Lucky for them that they don't.
Sammy turned to the girl who was sitting next to him.
"Um, excuse me, but...do you have...fish?"
"All shapes, sizes, colors, smells, makes, models, upright and canister."
"If this is Final Death, it's not that bad. But!" In a rare moment of lucidity, "My friends! On the Bus!!! What happened? I..I..."
Sammy trails off as he remembers the Voice, the lasers, and all that happened to him.
"WHERE ARE THEY??"
Curling up in the fetal position, Sammy rocks back and forth between a small poem by Keats and a large red pulsating thing that looks vaguely like a cow and vaguely like the equation that describes a parabola.
"I don't even like parabolas. HELP!!"
"That's Why you're here!" Said the girl.
"'Cause I don't like parabolas? Is this some kind of Parabola HELL??!!"
"No. This is my place. I'm Delirium."
"Oh. I'm Sammy. Pleased to meetcha."
"And your friends are fine. They're in Hawaii."
"Oh. Well, I wouldn't want to be with them. I hear that in Hawaii they have these huge dipthongs that the natives wear. And the beeches. It's enough to make one cry."
"You're here because...Well, because I like you guys. You tick my sister off something Royally, but I like you guys. Both of my sisters. But where are my manners?" Delirium begins looking around for her manners
. "Um...Over there, I think. Are those manners?"
"Yes!!! Why thank you. I have found my manners. Now I am polite and courteous and...I don't really want these manners anyway. They are old and wrinkly. Ummm....I had...something...important...or...have a cookie?"
"Yes please. I didn't know that you could make a cookie in that shape. I'm not sure if I can eat a cookie that looks like that. It would probably be bad." Sammy pushes away the odd confection.
"Anyway. I think that there are some bad things going on. I think that I saw some things that shouldn't have happened. I think that it is possible that something VERY bad is going to happen VERY soon. See, there's this thing, and these other people, they want the thing. But the thing doesn't want them, so it gets help from these other people. Then these people say that the thing needs these OTHER people to make it work. So then Heather Locklear dies in a car crash. And then the first people, not Heather Locklear, the other people, they want to go and find the people who can make the thing work. And then the people, you know, the nice ones, they don't know what's going on. And then some BAD THINGS are going to happen. And if the people get the thing some more BAD THINGS are going to happen. I had some BAD THINGS happen to me, and..and..HEY!!! WHO's THAT???!?"
Sammy falls into an infinity doughnut, crawls out to see who Del is talking about. Spooke is standing there, gazing at a now terrifying Delirium in full trench coat, battle regalia, fishnet stockings, high heels, and one camel, staring angrily down at Spooke.
"Oh! That's Spooke. He's a friend. And a fish. But only sometimes. And on thursdays. And..." Sammy trails off. "Spooke? Are you OK? SPOOOKE!!!"
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After making his way up the beach a little way, Handel appears to realise that the arm he has over ME's shoulders is sopping wet with seawater.
"Sorry about that," he says. "Why didn't you mention something? You'll be getting brine in that T-shirt. Don't want to ruin a keepsake from your old Alma Mater."
ME looks down at her 'Miskatonic University' emblazoned shirt and up again at Handel. It seems he has come over all strange again after his brief return to himself. Not standing as close as before, he once again has a vaguely haunted look in his eyes and will not meet her gaze full on.
Brusquely he points towards the bus. "Let's get a move on. Spooke should see this." Quickly he hurries on, waving the document folder and making ME almost run to catch up.
They arrive to find a tea party has just finished. All the others are holding little teacups and looking at a somewhat confused appearing Malk in the centre of the mix who has a green bag and the teapot on the ground beside her.
"Lisa! Or is it Kronin?" says Handel.
"Both," she replies. "But call me Kronin for now, no one calls me Kronin anymore."
"Glad to see you. You look a little down, but I won't give you a hug at the moment as I am sopping wet from a little dip in the ocean." He squiggles his finger wetly in one ear for emphasis.
Kronin, never one to turn down a hug, even from one who is wet and salty and all that other fun stuff you get from the ocean hugs Handel anyway. "Thanks," she says wetly, "care for some tea?"
A pale figure wearing a green trench coat slowly emerges out of the evening mist. in one hand a bottle of gin and in the other, a fat bloated corpse... recognizable as one of HONOLULU'S FINEST by the uniform clinging to the lifeless husk. "um... HI! It's me, Bryan, the other two are fighting right now so its only me and Marcel. Ooh, ooh, you never met Marcel have you... he was here first and people called him Brujah. Well Kronin said that she doesn't do luaus but I brought a pig just in case. Aw sucks... did I miss the tea party? Maybe next time?"
"Now I know what you're thinking, 'Marcel'... 'Pulp Fiction'... the only guy who can get fucked up the ass and still be cool! NO!!! A completely different Marcel!"
"No hug for me bunny?" Frowns the newcomer at Kronin.
Kronin looks nervously at bryan/marcel. "Um," she says intelligently. "Bu, bu, bun," she stutters. She looks suddenly to the left and sees a parking meter. She takes a quick step towards the parking meter, one hand reaching for her pocket. She stops and looks back at bryan/marcel. She smiles folding her arms behind her back. "Hi!" One hand reaches up to scratch her head and finds her red felt hat. She grabs her hat and holds it to her chest. Her eyes suddenly look blank and she stares at bryan/marcel. Her eyes become frightened and she walks away quickly hugging her hat to her head and slowly begins to cry.
"There are some staked Assamites back there - I assume that'll be okay with the locals until morning?" Handel asks the two Hawaiian vampires.
Kronin looks around, "I remember an Assamite, he got in a fight with a big wolf thing, and lost an arm. I had never seen a fight before, so I tried to see what was going on but my daddy who was not my daddy then suggested that I step back and out of danger. I thought he might have been Malkavian. He wasn't." Kronin stares off in the distance lost in memories which aren't really hers, but I let her have them anyway.
Bryan continues: "Oh really? Assamites usually die very quickly down here. One killed the Toreador elder down here... but he lost his soul in a bet earlier... then the Tremere and prince brought him back. for some reason, there was a big anti-Toreador sentiment for a while. When I ran with the Sabbat, the Camarilla knew who all the Sabbat were and our Assamite was one of the first to die. "Well I brought the swine... what?!? You don't dig swine?"
"That reminds me," Handel continues, turning to Spooke. "I have an address for some local Tremere who had something to do with the rather cowardly murder attempt ME here saved me from," he indicates generally in her direction without looking. "What do you say we go and show them what we think of diverting our bus and trying to set people up for execution? Not to mention the myriad of other foul plots they no doubt have percolating at this very moment," he finishes, knowing Spooke's prediliction for blaming everything from Gehenna to athletes foot on the warlocks.
"Yeah," replies Spooke vehemently. "I'll bet that's why we're not in Egypt!" Everyone waits for a five minute rant to begin, yet strangely none occurs. Many eyebrows are raised. "What?" Says Spooke, looking a little harassed. Even Alex, as insubstantial as he is, appears to be regarding his master with some suspicion. "Look, a Malk doesn't have to follow stereotypes all the fragging time you know." A hopeful pause. "Well, Handel hasn't been drinking for a while . . ."
Faces turn to Handel, who appears to be watching the stars with a somewhat dreamy look.
"Doesn't look like he needs it so much at the moment," says Parr.
"Alright," says Spooke. "Someone hit him with a spade or something and I'll get my rubber bands primed and ready for action."
SPONG!
"Hey, he fell down just like Badger does. . . do you think? No, he's getting up again."
"Shit!" Anna, first in this group for a bit of mindless violence, pulls away from the blazing eyed form of Handel as he rises, spade now held defensively. Being a Brujah she knows the look of the Beast trying to rise. "This guy is getting dangerous!"
The light slowly fades. "You will NEVER do that to me again, woman." Handel uncharacteristically snarls. He moves away towards the bus. "Come on Spooke, anyone else who's in, we've got a raid to perform."
"What the hell?"
"I think he's having some Humanity problems," says ME worriedly.
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Day watched as Handel headed toward The Bus, followed closely by Spooke. They were going to "talk" to her local kinsfolk, were they?
Not bloody likely, she decided. They're going to break in, demand rum and clean shirts, and harass anything they think is Tremere. She suffered a brief mental image of the Malkavians brutally questioning a pineapple from a bowl of fruit and finally hammering a stake into its core.
Can't have that.
Think logically....and frugally...they're headed for the bus. The bus is driven by Skummy. Skummy is Anna's property. Anna is Brujah and thus irritable. Anna, Day has noticed, is easily annoyed. Anna is within arm's reach of Genevieve. Genevieve is young and impressionable.
W H A C K !
A brutal cuff to the ear knocked Anna over like a punching-bag weeble, but she rolled into a crouch and began growling, hissing, and spitting like a Black Fury who's spent the last hour in the trunk of some redneck's Ford with the corpse of his first wife.
"What the hell'd you do THAT for?" demanded Anna. It was obvious she didn't give a damn either way. There was diablerie in her eyes.
"Wasn't me!" yelped Genevieve desperately. Both the denial and the Dominate failed to have any effect whatsoever.
A medium-sized and mangy Glass Walker appeared suddenly in front of ME.
"FUZZEEEEE!!!!" she wailed. The Walker leaned closer, eyes bloodshot and pelt mangy. It looked as though it ought to smell horribly of animal mange, but there was no scent whatsoever to it. Nor did ME feel breath on her face, which certainly she ought to have...but she wasn't paying attention to such minor details.
The sweet scent of rum wafted across Handel's nostrils. He HAD a mission...the Tremere were out there...but he wasn't drunk, after all, and it DID smell close...he turned.
He followed it as best he could to the knot of Malks following several yards behind him, which seemed to be in a minor uproar and was cerrtainly no longer following...No matter. The smell apparently issued from somewhere near the Tremere traveling with Mercari and Heron. The elegant Tremere, standing in the middle of a thrashing band of Malks and one feverishly murderous Brujah and smiling slightly to herself.
He paused. A few tendrils of reason snaked their way into his sinuses through the fumes of rum. Just what the blue bloody buggery flaming hell--he mentally thanked Bagder for that satisfying phrase--was she looking so damn SMUG for?
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