Holiday Road

Prelude to a Road Trip

2031:

So now that the Emerald Kerfluffle has sorted, we need about a week to prep for this. Thankfully, Serenity has a decent cargo hold, so I've got clothes and a few other items. 3 sets of body armor, photographers' vests (80 billion pockets means I can carry damn near anything) and some cases that'll be marked as photography equipment.

Doing some heavy feeding and bloodwork for my latest ammo experiments. One of the drawbacks to a gun is that the ammunition does minimal damage to vampires. Solution, make the ammo more lethal. Experimenting with materials and ballistics gel to figure out shatter and penetration. Basically we're creating a jumped-up hollow-point bullet, so that's pretty well solved. Now the propulsion is going to be a fun part. I think I'm going to have to go with a compressed air bottle under the barrel. Bonus, I can create a series of acceleration vents allowing for constant acceleration out the barrel. End result, better penetration and pure unadulterated ouch for the target. The down side of this is that it's a cast-iron bitch when I run out of ammo. With that in mind, I've got a couple spares that'll chamber the classic ammo from NATO and the Soviet block. Of course if I break those out, we are deep in the shit.

Not to say that it's been all work. When Cass gave me a dumb look after I explained why the planes are thusly named, a night in was in order. She likes Zoe. Who knew. The question of ghouling Rebecca is over on the side right now, but I think we'll have an answer once we land back in Rio. Brushing up on my German and Arabic, I'm doing some translation for my software documentation. Because that's always how we spend fun nights. No, really. I know it might be weird from the outside, but the documentation is a good thing. And it helps me with language skills, which are tremendously important. God knows we might be negotiating something, and I'd rather we not get boned because of linguistical error.

Future looking statements. I think I've got things plotted out to be able to determine the next Giovanni moves - I mean, with a memory of disasters pending, I'm taking a chance on thinking they'll be there for the cleanup, if they're not already there to help make it happen. Hopefully, Dresden will have sufficient infrastructure that I can make friends and slowly work them against the Giovanni. At the very least I can make friends who can feed me information on the Italians. How Tina reacts to what we're doing is going to make for an interesting flight. Hopefully she won't think her pops has gone totally around the bend.

To expand a little, Dresden gives us a chance to explore Europe a little bit more - on the up side, the mortal side of the house is fairly contentious, which gives a little chance for me to make some university contacts. On the down side, the people running the show in Europe are the ones who saw the Anarch Revolt, the foundation of the Camarilla, and are generally loathe to accept interlopers. We're going to have to follow protocol, which means presenting ourselves before the Prince. Brenda already apparently has credentials as a Toreador, and Cass is a Brujah, so those two are covered. Hugo and I are totally different matters. I'm not too dark, so I could possibly pass as another clan. My business interests and snazzy attire would make it easy to be a Ventrue. I can dominate people, but I don't know the ins and the outs of the clan, so I would have to wing it. Of course, Tina would also have to fake it as my childe...I'm getting a meh feeling the more I consider it. Being upfront is best, especially since they could call me on it in a century. Weird, for someone who used to play politics a lot (if memory serves) I am crap at dishonesty. However, the other side is that walking in and honestly announcing ourselves as Assamites is going to make some people shit. My saving grace might be that I don't carry a knife. Either way, we're probably going to be persuaded to make our stay as brief as possible. Note to Inner Smartass; do not tell the Prince we're just in town because we've got a few days to kill. Millennia-old vampires might not see the humor in that. Hopefully we can turn clan to our advantage, 'Give us what Cass is looking for and we'll GTFO.'

Beirut is a different animal. As a coastal town, I might be able to make some import-export contacts here, which would help for trans-shipping some of my brethren who want to make their way to Rio. Note to business self - while we're away, tell Andre to buy some houses and a few bodegas on the west side, make sure everyone gets a key and keep the lights on. Safe houses are handy. With that in mind, I'll need to make sure that the safe houses are indeed safe. Sewer exit to the street, panic room, etc. Also, it'll keep Andre busy. That man has attachment issues.

Finally, Baghdad. Further foundation to the underground railroad, there's going to be a lot of clan-intensive conversation. Ur-shulgi is...concerning. Okay, let's not kid ourselves, anyone older than Christianity is pretty scary. Ur-shulgi is from a time when the world was just figuring out bronze. I'm not even sure it's possible for him to understand the Giovanni plan. Given the results, he may in fact approve. Those of us are not fans of apocalypses may have to work around that. To that end, the Rio Port is born. Hopefully I can find enough people to make it worth my while. Hopefully, Masood has something in the works or at the least he can give some advice on how to form up some outreach. We can maintain our independent status as a clan, and we should. Our independence keeps us where we need to be - separated from the morass of politics and able to act.

I think I'm getting ahead of myself. Uniting a clan could be a bit of a pain in the ass. Especially if it has to happen in a century and a half.

The Dresden Files

Because really, what else would I call it?

Arriving In Style

I won't say the flight was dull, but it was a lot of hours in Serenity. More than I'm used to, but it gave me time to let Tina in on the future. She took it well, considering. I mean really, Dame Fortune kinda pissed in Tina's Cheerios. Here she is a K9 MP, doing her job, and she gets drummed out because the trail leads to an officer. Then she can't get a job, winds up a criminal, and then gets paid a grand to try and stake me. I accidentally kill and embrace her, which while noble, does kinda hose her as far as her day job of panhandling. And then I drop the "yes we're eternal, but the world's gonna turn into a pile of shit in 2 centuries. By the way, I know this because I got sent back in time ex post facto." So there was that. The in-flight movie selection was awesome - because I picked it out. I'll pry later into Tina's thoughts - that said, I'll make some comfort drinks for her in a couple nights.

I do kind of appreciate lights of the city, and Dresden's no different. Though it is kinda smaller than I'm used to. The landing strip was smaller, and whilst taxiing, we had a serious greeting party. I admit to nerves - usually 4 war wagons and a limo means Herr Jason is going to have to talk fast or shoot fast. Thankfully, it was neither. It was apparently the security chief for the city, Frau Ott. Recalling my hockey-watching days, it seemed appropriate - that guy was a dick. Being a good lad, I shut it while Cass took the lead on we're here, we have a reservation, etc. She asked where our security detail was, and acted like Cass had ripped a medium fart when she discovered that we had come without extra security. I'm sorry, but two Assamites is the security detail, thankyouverymuch. That said, we were promptly augmented with a 20 man team and advised that we would be staying at the Pillnitz Castle, and we were to be comfortable as heck.

I'll be honest, the castle was almost enough to put the nerves at ease. Seriously, the foyer was bigger than my house. All of it - including the sub-levels. And while going through it, we were introduced to a land of ostentatious wealth. Seriously, I couldn't look at anything for too long, instead having to focus on the academic questions at hand; how the hell did they know we were coming, and are we guests like the world sees it or are we guests as a euphemism for prisoners? These are nice questions, while we got the dime tour because Frau Ott announced that it was 2 hours and 23 minutes to sunrise without looking at her watch, and that we would be seen to our quarters, and that tomorrow we would be meeting the Prince and having a little soiree.

Lightbulb. I've seen that trick exactly 2 other times. Data, and Cass. Frau Ott didn't seem like an android, so that left us Cass' Cousin. So that might explain a couple things. That said, the castle was a distinctly well-appointed, we had our suites with secret exits to sleeping chambers where we could crash. Welcome to Inquisition-era security. 50 tons of rock cocooning silk sheets. Once again, insanely skilled Auspex bites me a little as I can hear the ultrasonics they're sweeping the room with. Sigh.

I slept well enough though, and came upstairs to shower - after that, I had a staff to take measurements. Not to be arrogant, but these are people who recognize my worth. Finally. Although as a side question, how do they know about my chops? And what are they setting me up for? Things to find out. And in short order I found myself in a 18th century hunting garb in a safe dark green complete with a nice green ribbon for my hair, with a swordcane at my side. Hell yes. What was nice was that the tailors didn't blanch when I started discussing protective-wear. Admittedly, I sacrificed protection in the name of comfort. Thus far it seems like...well, Germany's a nice enough place. The other jolt was when I stepped outside and had to remind myself that it was fall. Looking around, everyone else was similarly appointed. That said, we had a coach waiting for us, and the security was all in period gear. Pretty sure they had snubs hiding somewhere, but I wasn't going to be too worried. Honestly, we had enough to worry about.

There's something to be said about controlling a city. Seriously, we had a picturesque coach ride straight out of Hollywood - traffic had been diverted around us so as not to distract. Upon reflection, it seemed like a serious power show - what are they hiding? I'm just too damned suspicious of the onerous displays like this. I'm not sure what it is, but something feels off. Either that or we just don't roll like this in Rio. If the idea was to get us out of our comfort zone, it worked like a motherfucker on Cass. Especially when we hopped out and had two columns of period soldiers snap to when we stepped out.

For a guy who topped out at Private First Class, I have moved up.

So we are introduced to the Prince, and he's a bit more formal with Cass than the rest of it. Clan thing, or is Cass from a powerful bloodline? Okay, my paranoia needs to go put itself in a box and have a nice hot cup of fuck off. Hopefully it'll at least shut the hell up for awhile, and I can focus on other matters. So that done, we get to the part where we're dancing. Tina can't dance, but her partner could. Meanwhile, the seneschal and I had a brief conversatrion about how long we'll be in town, and my lineage. Also positive, he didn't shit himself when I mentioned the whole lineage thing. Could be good. We discussed interests, and I mentioned computers and guns because, well, that's my thing. Weirdly, the Nosferatu in the corner (why are they always in the goddamn corner) didn't freak when I waved.

After that me and Frau Ott naffed off to the command center in the palace. It was the holodeck, I shit you not. Looking at the amount of control she had over the city was spectacular. I fully and freely admit my fangs were hard watching the technology at work. Paranoia showed up again asking why this would be needed. Fang-on said "because we can, bitch" and the argument was settled. It was rather amusing to watch Hugo get caught stealing a coin, which was impressive. Again, ultrasonic pulses that I noticed right after she mentioned them.

I did get something of an answer when we started discussing weapons. She's looking at flechette rounds to fight Lupines. It's an interesting question from an academic standpoint. I'm still partial to Vera, and I brought up the specs. The real issue is that silver isn't cheap, and silver nitrate is bullshit. The other real problem that she faces is that field testing is hell. I called Andre, made a few modifications to Vera for production, and asked that he make a short-run and send them to us. Fortunately I brought my comfy "I'm working" clothes.

We wound the night up in the parlor talking politics. I haven't been keeping up on current events like I should be to be quite honest. The bolsheviks are making a comeback, vampirically. I hate to say it, but they tried it twice - Carthage, and then again with the old Soviet Union. Both were spectacular failures because communism doesn't really take the human into equation. Sadly, the Brujah think they can do better this time. They're so cute when they're being idealistic. In mortal politics, Turkey and Greece have been at war for several years over Greece nuking a disputed possession. Odd thought I may mention to see if its' been tried - invite Turkey into the EU. That allows the dispute to be settled by relatively neutral parties, Turkey gets an economic boost, the drains an extended war places on everyone are relieved, and soldiers can come home and do what they do best - screw the beejeezus out of anything that moves and keep the liquor stores profitable. Vampirically, the stability keeps the bolsheviks and their bolshit at bay, and allows cooler heads to prevail.

So that part's done, and I have a bad feeling that while Cass is doing her thing with clan and them, I'm going to be working on ammo loads and delivery systems for the Ice Frau Ott. Eh. There's worse ways to spend a vacation. I may nip out for a night though, Dresden is utterly gorgeous. And it's Fall, so I'm rocking and rolling. Maybe a night at one of the clubs to see if those Oktoberfest wenches are as sturdy as the internet makes them out to be.

R&D - Dresden Style

Castle Pillnitz kicks ass. I just have to remind myself of that - occasionally indulgence rules. That said, I have a thing or two to do. Kicking the tires on their machine shop, it was...quaint. Oh the machinery worked well enough, but it was all circa 19th century and powered by various off-the-grid means. So after that, I went to the good old work shirt (AC/DC never goes out of style, no matter what garbage the radionet tries to force down our ears as some Malkavian prank gone horribly wrong) and cargo shorts. Barefoot because you really have to feel the machine to become a part of it.

But that's another thing entirely. Frau Ott showed up, and we were off for a tour of the technological wonders of Dresden. Seriously, kid in a candy shop time for me. The VW transparent museum, fine piece of German engineering. Along the way, we discussed a ton of nanotechnology and using it against the lupines. As an intellectual exercise, it's utterly fascinating. Although I'll be honest, it'd be more of a loadout for a sneak-attack rather than a pitched battle. Morally I'm okay with that. We had some discussion about the hows and the wherefores, but there was something in my brain that kept tickling me. Annoying Voice in my head kept nagging, but then my eyes were going "Dude, semiconductors and nanotech - Helllllloooooo, NURSE." So finally during the general wind-down and hammering out who's going to be doing the heavy lifting on the nano-tech (Quick hint: it's gonna be someone not me.) Annoying Voice asked a valid question - why the shit are we throwing all this R&D into a silver nanobot with a rudimentary guidance system to attack lupine nerve clusters when the classic headshot with a silver bullet is just as effective. Frau Ott gave me a decent enough answer along the lines of German efficiency, but Annoying Voice called bullshit on that. I agreed with annoying voice.

So eventually she did come around to the real(er) security problem - apparently someone's making a play for the city; to wit, representatives of the old regime. And they're backed by Setites. At least one, probably more. There's a few in town, and there's at least one who's a good hacker. So I gotta find them. Frau Ott was kind enough to let me see some of their other prototype goodies and I may have done some sort of chibi happy-faced squee. Energy weapons. So nice, but again, plasma and energy and other fun things that I'm only aware of in a theoretical sense, and even then only when they cross into my spheres of knowledge as an ancillary thing. After a more thorough and honest discussion of what's going on, and being hired on as a consultant for some interrogation, I decided it was time to test out some of the Oktoberfest brews.

Damn nice. Damn nice. I am going to have to work on my blood-flavoring to try and reproduce some pilsner. Or maybe a lager, but lagers are cold - blood as a general rule sucks when cold. I may be stuck drinking stouts for the rest of my unlife. And that just makes me want to weep the tars of eternal sadness. Once I got back to the castle, we had a quick discussion of who can do what. Apparently ghosts have a complex society or something, as Brenda just gave me a weird look when I hit a few things here and there and asked her about possible ways to hit up ghosts about a setite. Dammit. I suppose I'll need more information or something, because overall she gave me a look like the one I tend to give her when she calls me and says "The magic box is broke. Fix it." That said, the next order of business was a quick chat with Tina about the flight-over discussion. She's still dubious, but I gave her the next world cup finale and game notes. She'll buy into it then, assuming there's nothing else coming to play to prove it beforehand. I'll give her credit, she's open-minded enough to accept the possibility, but then requires some proof. Also helpful, she gives me some focus. Like starting to lay down the plans for monkey-wrenching the shit out of Giovanni plans. That's where the rest of the clan comes into play because well, we're going to need help. There's 5 places we need to go to crap on Augustus' Master Plan To Stop Eating At The Kiddie Table Of Antediluvians, and yeah. That's going to be a fun night. Coordination, timing, the whole schmear. But that's a thought for another night. Caught up on everything, made sure Andre was doing his things, and sacked out. Though Andre is a little concerned about it. He doesn't trust the Germans. Hell I don't think he trusts anyone when I'm not around.

So the next night, interrogation. Nice suit, and we wandered to a place not too far outside town, where there was a skinhead. He'd been seen with a few of our targets, and well - he was with-holding information. Given that they didn't have anyone handy with Auspex before, and now they did - presumably the local Toreador is purposely being left out of the loop - they thought maybe that'd be worth a go. One thing to note was that he'd given up most of his information after waterboarding (not exactly a shock), and so it was time to continue. I started reading the ever loving crap out of his mind while asking him some questions and going through that. Everyone's afraid of something, and Herr Stark was afraid of drowning and tight spaces. Time to put that to work. Frau Ott knew faces, and Tina's a way better interrogator than me, so I flipped the Auspex switches some more to mentally throw them what I was seeing. It was a bit of a stretch for me to be honest - I felt like Scotty beaming three people from two places onto one pad.

Frau Ott's mind is...if I had to use a word, it would be frosty. If I licked it, I'm pretty sure my tongue would stick to it, and high comedy would result. It's like at some point she decided emotions were for suckers. It made mental communication with her very awkward, especially since I don't think she'd ever done anything like that before. But apparently I am one hell of an interrogator, because I was able to get a confirm on one of the people, and then a good lead on the other. The linguistics brushup was helpful, because I was able to ID the mans' accent as west slavic - awesomesauce. Now grooving into that, I was able to subvert his orders to essentially copy the cops on all of his movements. He's been working on the underground fight club scene, and making contacts while doing so, all for the woman. He doesn't dig the guy, but he would die for the woman (Sara.) That said, we got names, places, and a new asset for Frau Ott. I think she likes me - especially after she asked if I could track him, and I answered rather affirmatively.

Back at the castle, more discussion - I have a job for Hugo, basically playing in the dens of sin and iniquity to see if the Setite has made any moves to do what they always do, which is make the world a cesspool so their dark god can float his boat on an ocean of depravity. I am so not a fan. Of course Hugo wants something in return, but I'm willing to bend a little. He wanted education in Quietus. Like that's ever going to happen. We dickered around a little bit, and he settled for Celerity.

Now the next order of business is going to be stopping a war with Turkey and Greece. Realistically, nuking a disputed possession isn't the kind of thing to really go to war over, but it seems to be an "any port in a storm" kind of thing. As noted, a peace accord keeps the bolsheviks at bay and then maybe blunts the Giovanni somehow - lots of death means lots of ghosts, and I think they may have a hand in this. If not actively, they're certainly circling like vultures. Perhaps recon is in order.

Final order of business which is actually going to be some level of fun, Frau Ott mentioned that they've got a computerish personage in their group. Now that, my friends is going to be fun - I'm going to have to figure out how to find me, electronically, when I don't want to be found. Time to drop something shiny on the world, and then see who bites. Crosscheck with some known and unknown anonymous proxies, see who's grabbing the new toy, and then start a backtrace. That's fun. Okay, not everyone thinks it's fun, but not everyones' me. Make contact and start asking questions. Fun times abound.

Mr Auspex Is Not Always Our Friend

Of note during the interrogation, was while we were winding it down and flipping Herr Blackshirt, was that I got a text from Cass. Seriously, I didn't mean to totally get snippy with her but between reading one guys mind, sharing what I was seeing with two other people and keeping the interrogation flowing so that Herr Blackshirt had no idea I was, I was a little swamped. I gave her a quick rundown, and finally got myself together. Back at the palace was Cass and a veritable swamp of roses. Wat. Da Fuq. Seriously, advanced Auspex skills at this point made me feel like my nostrils were having angrysex courtesy of the local flora. I seriously had to shut it down so I could talk to Cass in her room. Apparently the Prince likes her, or something. Which may be a little bit of a squick when it comes to the Princes' childe Verena. So finally we got everything settled - If I'm guessing right, the prince likes Cass because she still has a full range of emotions, and he misses that about himself. But we had an invite to go see the Prince and talk temporal mechanics.

Grooving on to the next night, I woke up and had a capital-h Hangover. It wasn't the worst one I've ever had (said honor still goes to the Baccahnal of 96, where one guy passed out in the tub, another had his head in the toilet for 5 hours, and I puke-and-rallied no less than 5 times before finally passing out betwixt kitchen and living room,) but it was definitely top-10 material. What made it top-10 material was that I could hear everything. There is a mouse in the walls, and he hated me. I know this because he maliciously was making his heart beat extra loud. And his claws were set to "Fuck You Asshole" as he tromped through the walls. I passed a few minutes in debate as to whether or not I should shoot the fucker or just use Quietus to silence his goddamn thundering feet, and then decided it would be better to sally forth and get ready for the evenings' adventures.

After some restoratives, I started plotting as to how to catch me. It took me about an hour, but I dropped a little next-gen overclock utility in the university servers. FYI, there's a lot of little dark alleys and side bends in those servers. I'm gonna have to take a night and play in there when I need some R&R. Hyped up the watchdog on that, and we were off. Not without a little regret, but I'll be back.

Dressing nice-but-not-formal for the Prince, the ride was uneventful. Quite possibly because my driver had my favorite pistol with him, with instructions to hand it the hell over when I asked. So that went well. The library that they have is fabulous. 5 stories, desks and chairs that look like they're from about the 16th century or so...I want one. Sort of. While information access has progressed to the point where I could have the entire information store of that library on my pinky, there's just something magical about a book. I think it's really nostalgia more than anything - when I was a kid, the library was the first place where I discovered what was possible. Greek Gods did battle with ancient demons, fantastic journeys were taken, and an undersized twit with a bowl haircut rode a Luck Dragon through downtown Manhattan. But I digress.

The meeting itself was kind of interesting. Someone did...something. It was like some sort of nagging sensation in the back of my head that the world had shifted subtly as soon as the portcullis closed. Then the two of us with the three Dresdeners; it looked like some sort of odd gathering - The baby boy prince who could seriously make any woman swoon and make about half the men question whether they were indeed batting from the right side of the plate, the seneschal who looked more like his dad than his younger sibling, and the Aryan Nun who was standing there with a yardstick and a stern knuckle-cracking expression. I thought the mental image was funny, so I shared the nun-part with Cass. She promptly fell the fuck out of her chair with hysterics.

I didn't think it was that funny.

The prince was amused and almost longing, the seneschal wanted to send Susie Derkins to the principals' office, and Frau Ott probably though that Cass had some sort of malady of the humours. Cass' face did promise that she would get me back for that and when she did I was in for a suffering. That little bit done, I got myself into Stuttering Idiot Mode, because I start explaining what the hell had happened to launch my ass back in time. It was horribly disjointed at first, but Cass threw an elbow at me. After that the house mentally restacked and I found my groove. I mean it was kind of an odd discussion with me just straight talking for a good two hours plus. After that there was Q&A. How I got launched back was an interesting discussion in and of itself - I would like to congratulate myself for not going the low-humor route of Back To The Future or something like that. Other than "They wouldn't get the joke", the apocalypse is generally not a place where humor hangs out.

My memory is an occasionally inviting place, and I have a decent amount of recall - even though the thing that sent me back in time apparently created a block of some sort, I can drive through it and remember. Which I did - and really, sometimes it's interesting to remember how and what happened. So after a discussion of the ritual, apparently there's one or two of the True Brujah who could have potentially performed it. The ritual itself was Mithrianic in origin, given the copious amounts of blood, the robes we were wearing, and the whole...tableaux, really. I gave them the places where Augustus keeps his souls, and as much information as I really could. Then came the 64 thousand dollar question. We've been sent back in time, armed with this knowledge. What are we going to do about it. I mentioned Jeremy, and knowing from back in the day - that brought them up short.

ooc note: More here later - has not been played out

So that bit of exhaustion done, we rode back in relative quiet, but as soon as we pulled up to the castle, the Danger-Meter pegged. Grabbed my gun and started doing a headcount. Brenda missing from the headcount, so I called her. Straight to voicemail, because of course she wouldn't pick up her phone while the world's telling me there's Klingons on the starboard bow. Time for plan B, getting into her headspace.

In hindsight, that may have been a mistake.

There was some sort of weird vibe as soon as the link established, like it was her, but not-her and there was more than just her in her head. After I sent some angry words down the pipe and getting some bizarre replies, I finally figured out that she'd gone to Buchenwald. Fuck-a-doodle-do. The images were flat-out horrific. Noxious fumes, ash, charred flesh, and gray-faced-gray-uniformed people tearing into trenches of meat and internal organs that the dispassionate part of my brain was identifying and cataloging even though the rest of my mind was shrieking and bouncing around in the brainpan and wanting to get the fuck out of there. So my body did the only really rational thing at that point and I barfed. Hey, if Patton did it, I don't feel bad about following his lead. The head of the place was freaked. I asked for a mop, but...yeah. They took care of that, but I had a nice napkin. Then I had to go to the bathroom just in case, and try and pull Brenda out of whatever hellscape the Buchenwald permanent residents had made up for her.

Once in there, I tried asking nicely, and then things got weird. Apparently nice is not appreciated, and I wound up in the scene and wearing gray with a star while watching some officers eating a scrumptious banquet.

Oh. Shit.

Since it was just a dream I was goddamn well going down swinging. The high points were getting pistol-whipped (again, the dispassionate part of my brain recognized it as the Luger P.08) and dragged out of the mess hall bodily. After that, I got shackled to a post and was whipped soundly until I was unconscious - although the whole time I made various comments on the parentage of my so-called captors, indicating that the newsflash was that they'd lost 90 years ago, and that they could go kiss the darkest part of my ass. I came to in the palace bathroom, and finally realized that I had...marks. From getting beaten in a dream that I had accessed via Auspex. Couple teeth and there was a bruise on my mouth, whip-marks on my back...that was a trip down the rabbit hole, and it's a scary place. Brenda's into something heavy and it's a place where I'm pretty sure both angel and devils fear to tread. Hopefully she can get her ass out of there before dawn, because that level of strange is almost beyond me.

After that, the staff was highly concerned for my well being. I needed a break, and got one courtesy of a pair of healthy German ladies who had both talent, charm, and a little restorative brandy. Dinner and a show, who could complain? Finally, I got myself sorted, and then all the things sort of resolved. Hugo found himself a lady with an Egyptian thing, so now we're back to my wheelhouse. In a moment of pure delicious irony, Hugo was griping about having to schtup a not-gorgeous drunk chick who almost yakked on him. I tried to be sympathetic to his plight, but being pistol-whipped and then whipped by people who've been dead for decades made me a little deaf to his sorrow. Background check on his new friend, she's a wannabe anthropologist who's being inundated with religiousity. Fortunately, social media makes surveillance a total cakewalk - so awesome, and then a little request for Frau Ott to watch me tomorrow because we have a meeting with someone who might be a Setite. Bless their sleazy little hearts, because I need some target practice.

Alles en Wunderland

So with some time left, I figured a check-in was in order. No Brenda. So I called Frau Ott and described what's what and the scenario. Yes I was a bad boy for letting Brenda wander off unattended, but telling her is not something I generally do. She either nods and smirks or pats my head and goes off and does it anyway. To be fair we have made a bit of a habit out of winging it when an opportunity presents itself. While describing the epic train wreck that is Brenda's mentalscape right now, I may have actually lost some points for emoting a bit much. Currently the book on me is probably "Competent to a degree, but don't let him improvise or tell stories."

With that in mind, an actual plan to appease the local dead of Buchenwald formed. The majordomo blanched a bit when I requested 3 US Army uniforms from Pattons' 6th and proper weaponry. Hopefully they'll at least let us talk if we show up looking like the folks who liberated the camp. Then came the issue of travel. Sadly, a car through the autobahn wasn't going to cut it, but Dalibor (awesome) rounded up a chopper for us.

A quick jaunt and people mobilized, we started looking for Brenda. The locals were a little skittish, and frankly I don't blame them a damn bit. Seriously, we were ahead of the curve just being here already. The only way I could have been faster was via astral projection, and I am not that crazy. Strange things happen near Buchenwald, and I am not going to go out of my way to be one of the strange things. So we lit up some drones, looking for Brendas' guards. After a little sweep, we found one. We hit the chopper and off we went. After some quick serach and rescue activity, during which I was relieved to see the guard only had some serious dehydration and frostbite happening, we discussed a quick sweep on foot. We were already in the area, so why not? We were going to have to face this place sooner or later.

I'm getting better at rappelling, or the German gear is just nice. Hugo, sadly, had more of a controlled fall than anything else. So without the period gear, we hit the place.

Let me tell you a brief story. Places have emotion. Back when I was breathing, I visited Little Big Horn several times. Each time, I felt a sense of...honor. I know it seems strange, but there was a sense of honor and reverence - both sides were fighting for something, and those who had died had died for something. These were things it took time to recognize, but they were. There's a certain respect to a battlefield, looking at lives cut short and whether falsely or not, there's an emotional reverence all its' own.

Buchenwald has exactly nothing like that. My boots hit the ground, and all I could feel from the area was despair. Slaughter, hopelessness. When the English language has a word for it, I'll write it. But there's a totality of misery and darkness within this place that has seeped into the land, and may never truly wash away. Moving forward was an effort for both myself and Tina. Maybe its' the auspex, or something deeper within the blood - it's said that Haqim was a warrior when he was breathing, and perhaps his perceptions of honorable treatment carry through us. Whatever it is, there's no overarching sense of honor in buchenwald. Dark, cold, shame, it pervades the places and for those with nerves to feel, it's there. Tina felt it too. I tried to be flip for all of a second, and that got me nowhere. Dalibor has no sense of humor - okay, he does, but it's tight. Tina was snippy, and I think Hugo was confused.

I suppose that looking after ones' childe is only natural, given what's transpired. Although I'm not sure that our relationship is the most typical sire/childe one out there, it suits me. At least I'm not a toreador, embracing the pretty one because she's pretty, and then punting when the definition of pretty changes. She's growing and becoming stronger, and for that I'm proud and thankful. Releasing her really would be a technicality or a formality at this point - she's certainly got the wherewithal to make it on her own. Presumably she's staying for her own reasons, though what those are...I suppose I should ask, but that's a question for another time. It's easier to think about Tina than Buchenwald.

The place damages my calm.

That said, I can't turn away from it, because my friend is in there. And she is alone in what my brief look would describe as a nightmare. Which is why we went out there. Certainly everyone had their own reasons, but mine are pretty simple. My companion of 2 centuries is there, in some manner of nightmare of someone elses' making, and she's in it. We'll fight, argue, snark, but we're there when it's that time.

But I digress. We moved forward nice and smooth, all the way up to the point where we lost Hugo. Seriously, one second he was there, and then the next time I turned to look for him he wasn't. Now if that's not disturbing, I'm not sure what isn't. So we backtracked. Hugo was nowhere, but his footprints weren't too terribly hard to find. Eventually, Dalibor got to Brenda's car and that thing was deader than a brick. Finally, we followed the tracks to the hospital. I used as much of my auspex as possible, and eventually we found Hugo. Or at least his body.

He'd been dissected and dropped into torpor. No decay, so he wasn't dead-dead. but his organs were very neatly arrayed about him. Unfortunately, we were a bit pressed for time so I was kinda dropping his internals back in somewhat haphazardly and sewing him up after a quick gown and glove action - but then when I was looking, it was like someone had placed a gold filigree chain in him. I lifted it with some forceps and asked Tina if she was seeing this, and...she wasn't. I looked again, and it was Hugos' small intestine.

That's what I dislike about this place, possibly more than anything. It casts doubt into your mind, that what you're seeing is indeed what is there. There are very few people who can create an illusion that I can't see through. If you can't trust your senses, everything becomes suspect. So with that, we absconded back to the helicopter and to a helipad in Weimar. One wine suite later, we had a place for the day. The police'll search for Brenda during the day, and hopefully they'll find her. I don't want to be here one minute longer than is absolutely necessary, but until I find Brenda, it is absolutely necessary.

One thing has moved up on my to-do list; I need to learn more about ghosts. The more I'm here, the more painfully obvioius it is that I got through Brendas' place by luck and shining virtue. That's never a good thing, because luck turns bad. Ask any gambler. So Dalibor's going to be heading back to Dresden for some studying of his sires' books, and he'll be back later with that information. Theoretically, we can con and convince the locals of the camp to give up Brenda.

And lest we forget, Buchenwald was a minor camp. I'm not getting within 50 miles of one of the major camps unless my existence depends on it.