Postcards From Enoch - Revision history

Auggy: /* Plottus Interruptus */

2016-05-25T00:09:19Z

Plottus Interruptus

← Older revision		Revision as of 18:09, 24 May 2016
Line 421:		Line 421:

	Brenda had grown a big set of chesty parts and went trick-or-treating. Well...I suppose it could have gone worse, but still. Things to do. Hecate and Beckett were there representing the Toreador, with Pug and his boys for the Brujah. And...the knights. And, because my life is an amusement to someone, there was the tremere regent. That was enough, but damn were we a messy team. Still, it was a mess as we went down - the sabbat were one, the local werewolves another, and a third force I couldn't really identify but damn was it messy. Hecate barfed, which made me groan inwardly. Way for the clan of the rose to represent.		Brenda had grown a big set of chesty parts and went trick-or-treating. Well...I suppose it could have gone worse, but still. Things to do. Hecate and Beckett were there representing the Toreador, with Pug and his boys for the Brujah. And...the knights. And, because my life is an amusement to someone, there was the tremere regent. That was enough, but damn were we a messy team. Still, it was a mess as we went down - the sabbat were one, the local werewolves another, and a third force I couldn't really identify but damn was it messy. Hecate barfed, which made me groan inwardly. Way for the clan of the rose to represent.

			Quite frankly, I can't blame her - I mean she might be like 30 or 40 years under the night, and I'd lay a small bet that she'd never seen an abattoir like this before. It was impressive, and I was able to pretty much trace out the whole battle as it went down. Of note, a couple werewolves that were dead were still in their deathblender form. A scientific curiosity, or an invitation to get a rug? Who knows, really. Alas, me without my skinning knife and with a timetable to keep.

	Anyhoo, after that we got down to the burial chamber, whereupon the regent said it was magically trapped. Message filed under Q for "No Shit Dick Tracy." Disarmed, and dealt with. The burial chamber was in fact, fit for a queen; beautiful carvings, gold, gems, and a coffin of exquisite manufacture. That was open...ish. Nobody touch the cursed gold. Seriously. We locked up and left...but it was more surreal somehow. Bad thoughts kept intering my mind. Imagining popping the Dumbass Tremere in each eyesocket and taking his heartsblood...on principle. Very, very creepy that my mind actually considered it. That done and dusted, the Tremere wanted the coffin. Sure. No.		Anyhoo, after that we got down to the burial chamber, whereupon the regent said it was magically trapped. Message filed under Q for "No Shit Dick Tracy." Disarmed, and dealt with. The burial chamber was in fact, fit for a queen; beautiful carvings, gold, gems, and a coffin of exquisite manufacture. That was open...ish. Nobody touch the cursed gold. Seriously. We locked up and left...but it was more surreal somehow. Bad thoughts kept intering my mind. Imagining popping the Dumbass Tremere in each eyesocket and taking his heartsblood...on principle. Very, very creepy that my mind actually considered it. That done and dusted, the Tremere wanted the coffin. Sure. No.

			The trip back up was still kinda creepy, and all the blood. Again Hecate lost her mind and went all blood-happy on at least one of the gallons in there. Of course, my tut-tut action lasted for as long as it too for me to realize just how many gallons were up in this beast; and, well, I may have touched my tongue to the wall a little. Brenda was giving me a side-eye kind of look. And when she's the decorum police, something ain't right. After we exited

	Finally, we grab the coffin, get it back to our Entry Tomb - taking the makeup and clothes for Suhalia - and then crack a bone to make a portal to the underworld. After that, Brenda's sire hiked us to a boat. He was verreh pleased and to show off, we got a ride back on a legit Roman Trireme. As accommodations go, it wasn't bad. I woulda sprung for the one with a jacuzzi though. A week later, we're on the shores of Enoch. Life is good. Sort of. All the plans for Boston are in the cooler. Alas. I suppose with some time to reflect, I can make it work. The Colonel is gonna be my ghoul, and then I have to get her a cushion to land on for when she gets punted out of the FAS service. I'm thinking a weapon mods company. Not making guns, just making them...better. That said, I'm settling into Enoch again. Suhalia's thrilled. Life kicks ass. But we'll consider more later.		Finally, we grab the coffin, get it back to our Entry Tomb - taking the makeup and clothes for Suhalia - and then crack a bone to make a portal to the underworld. After that, Brenda's sire hiked us to a boat. He was verreh pleased and to show off, we got a ride back on a legit Roman Trireme. As accommodations go, it wasn't bad. I woulda sprung for the one with a jacuzzi though. A week later, we're on the shores of Enoch. Life is good. Sort of. All the plans for Boston are in the cooler. Alas. I suppose with some time to reflect, I can make it work. The Colonel is gonna be my ghoul, and then I have to get her a cushion to land on for when she gets punted out of the FAS service. I'm thinking a weapon mods company. Not making guns, just making them...better. That said, I'm settling into Enoch again. Suhalia's thrilled. Life kicks ass. But we'll consider more later.

			''Epilogue:''

			Someone get the phone, because ''I fuckin' called it!'' Seriously, it took them two months to gently send the Colonel to her retirement party. And now, we're going to get her to her next career; designing and implementing modifications and improvements for weapons. Keep her nose in the game, and give her a little bit of an in when we get ready to take Boston. Meanwhile, other plans are on hold; we may have to step up or work on our timetable for QC. That said, Suhalia was thrilled to get the things I brought for her - and after a long, long day of working out, she gives a great massage. She is of course, acceptable company. Brenda's creepy, but I do need to get her input regarding the Stick for the League takeover. How do you make a bomb that affects the land of the dead...and how big would it have to be to put a crack in a soul vault.

Auggy: /* Plottus Interruptus */

2016-05-24T02:24:35Z

Plottus Interruptus

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:24, 23 May 2016
Line 407:		Line 407:

	== Plottus Interruptus ==		== Plottus Interruptus ==

			So, with things satisfied and the plan coming together, it was time to clean house. Knock out all the jazz in Bethesda, take out a few other things, and then leave a note at Bens' Crab Shack if we needed some intel. Alas, plans have a way of not coming together. Reality is such a cold-hearted bitch.

			We arrive and standing at our door is a guy in a trenchcoat. And shoes. He apparently misplaced his pants, which did nothing to improve my mood. Then he asks if I am who I said I was a couple days ago. Just in case he's the distraction for the kidnappers, my sidearm found its' way into my hand and aimed at him. I asked (politely, I thought) why and who was asking. You know, the basic questions you ask when a flasher is at your door and ready to deploy. Turns out he was there to tell us that the forces were gathering at the Boston Common baseball field. To fall upon Ipswich.

			Right. That.

			Having acknowledged his message, he was free to do his thing. So he flashed Cass. On the one hand, I will admire dedication to a bit, as he was in fact ready for action - despite having a gun pointed at close range. On the other hand, I had shit to do, and he was...not blessed.

			With that I had to table the electronic breaking and entering; the only way I could have had enough time was by burning all the blood in the hotel, and I was just not up for that. So that was marked on the to-do list, I prepped my toys and we found a wagon. The drive was annoying, as such things are - pulled into the copshop to locate the MIA Lt Scott and the captain. They redecorated. I tweaked blood to breathe, bodytemp, and so on - it was annoying, but it had to be done. Then I asked if they had her location. I commandeered a comm station and popped a locator trace. As she was heading north, I called the local station and got a hold of Lt PencilNeck, who was so eager to please and clueless it made me want to strangle him. My kingdom for a freaking sergeant. Seriously, he was a step behind me the whole way. But, he was useful enough to understand what I wanted and he made it happen. And I would not be surprised if he got off the video with me and was like "That was ''so rad''." Do people still say that? Meh.

			Frankly, I didn't have high hopes for the chase - Ezra didn't get where he is by being stupid, after all - but I was playing with house money, I could make him switch to an alternate plan, and I wanted to give him an opportunity to panic and fuck up. I'm generous like that. Eventually I was able to bottle up Ezra and Lt Scott, giving them a parting gift of sorts, and After making sure the town was on lockdown, all the cops were aware, and Ezra was going to have to go to plan B, I let them have their fun and went to go link up with the Boston folks.

			Brenda had grown a big set of chesty parts and went trick-or-treating. Well...I suppose it could have gone worse, but still. Things to do. Hecate and Beckett were there representing the Toreador, with Pug and his boys for the Brujah. And...the knights. And, because my life is an amusement to someone, there was the tremere regent. That was enough, but damn were we a messy team. Still, it was a mess as we went down - the sabbat were one, the local werewolves another, and a third force I couldn't really identify but damn was it messy. Hecate barfed, which made me groan inwardly. Way for the clan of the rose to represent.

			Anyhoo, after that we got down to the burial chamber, whereupon the regent said it was magically trapped. Message filed under Q for "No Shit Dick Tracy." Disarmed, and dealt with. The burial chamber was in fact, fit for a queen; beautiful carvings, gold, gems, and a coffin of exquisite manufacture. That was open...ish. Nobody touch the cursed gold. Seriously. We locked up and left...but it was more surreal somehow. Bad thoughts kept intering my mind. Imagining popping the Dumbass Tremere in each eyesocket and taking his heartsblood...on principle. Very, very creepy that my mind actually considered it. That done and dusted, the Tremere wanted the coffin. Sure. No.

			Finally, we grab the coffin, get it back to our Entry Tomb - taking the makeup and clothes for Suhalia - and then crack a bone to make a portal to the underworld. After that, Brenda's sire hiked us to a boat. He was verreh pleased and to show off, we got a ride back on a legit Roman Trireme. As accommodations go, it wasn't bad. I woulda sprung for the one with a jacuzzi though. A week later, we're on the shores of Enoch. Life is good. Sort of. All the plans for Boston are in the cooler. Alas. I suppose with some time to reflect, I can make it work. The Colonel is gonna be my ghoul, and then I have to get her a cushion to land on for when she gets punted out of the FAS service. I'm thinking a weapon mods company. Not making guns, just making them...better. That said, I'm settling into Enoch again. Suhalia's thrilled. Life kicks ass. But we'll consider more later.

Auggy at 01:54, 23 May 2016

2016-05-23T01:54:44Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:54, 22 May 2016
Line 405:		Line 405:

	Now to make it happen.		Now to make it happen.

			== Plottus Interruptus ==

Auggy: /* We do not approve. */

2016-05-08T16:11:19Z

We do not approve.

← Older revision		Revision as of 10:11, 8 May 2016
Line 388:		Line 388:
	So things happened while I was mentally out and breaking out my impression of the monty python; apparently everyone fed, declined a rude invitation, and then brought one of the inviters back for a discussion with a stake in his chest. Some shenanigans ensued, and well, apparently Cass got a little wild. After which the group was nice enough to consider what to do with the knocked-out batcrap crazy vampire when he wakes up all crazy and cranky.		So things happened while I was mentally out and breaking out my impression of the monty python; apparently everyone fed, declined a rude invitation, and then brought one of the inviters back for a discussion with a stake in his chest. Some shenanigans ensued, and well, apparently Cass got a little wild. After which the group was nice enough to consider what to do with the knocked-out batcrap crazy vampire when he wakes up all crazy and cranky.

	It's nice to be loved. But Cass and Hugo went to a pet store or 5, while Brenda acquired a few winos. It was an undeclared race, and Brenda won.		It's nice to be loved. But Cass and Hugo went to a pet store or 5, while Brenda acquired a few winos. It was an undeclared race, and Brenda won. Two winos were provided first, and then the pin on the Jason-grenade was pulled.

	Which brings us to the parts I remember; it really starts off on a down note so think of a cute fuzzy kitten while reading this next part. I woke up with a full belly and two dessicated bums, and that sinking feeling anyone of an age gets when they're coming out of the visit to crazytown and they realize that they have done screwed the pooch severely. Also, I was hammered. Like Bacchanal of 97 hammered. All of this made for an interesting hour or two while I waxed depressed about the human condition, my own sorry ass, and my utter inability to control myself. Gradually sobering, it was one of those "I got shit to do" times. (As a sidebar, I truly envy Brendas' inhumanness sometimes. Sometimes.) But, I went from Crazytown to the suburb of Drunksville called Sad, and then a final stop and Hangover City.		Which brings us to the parts I remember; it really starts off on a down note so think of a cute fuzzy kitten while reading this next part. I woke up with a full belly and two dessicated bums, and that sinking feeling anyone of an age gets when they're coming out of the visit to crazytown and they realize that they have done screwed the pooch severely. Also, I was hammered. Like Bacchanal of 97 hammered. All of this made for an interesting hour or two while I waxed depressed about the human condition, my own sorry ass, and my utter inability to control myself. Gradually sobering, it was one of those "I got shit to do" times. (As a sidebar, I truly envy Brendas' inhumanness sometimes. Sometimes.) But, I went from Crazytown to the suburb of Drunksville called Sad, and then a final stop and Hangover City.

Auggy: /* We do not approve. */

2016-05-08T16:07:08Z

We do not approve.

← Older revision		Revision as of 10:07, 8 May 2016
Line 395:		Line 395:

	Next night, I felt better. I break into Bethesda's cloudstore, build Brenda an alias so she can be my medical consultant. I get to da choppa, and an hour later we're in Bethesda. Hugo was given the job of taking the SUV back to Boston and dealing with another short-term job. The flight was smooth, the in-flight movie sucked, and service was tolerable. We were checked in, DNA scanned, and then we headed to the patients. Brenda conducted interviews, and...yeah, they're a little crazy. It'll wear off, but afterwards...this is an incident that's going on their records. These are the sorts of things that wreck careers. And again, I have a little seed of bitterness toward the Prince and his...knights. Sure, the Prince thought he was doing me a favor by bringing me into the court. But these guys were all just wrong place wrong time when a Malkavian came to town. Given what I've seen of the FAS, I hope the command structure is okay with being in the service industries after they muster out. Even if we save their careers, they're kinda hosed.		Next night, I felt better. I break into Bethesda's cloudstore, build Brenda an alias so she can be my medical consultant. I get to da choppa, and an hour later we're in Bethesda. Hugo was given the job of taking the SUV back to Boston and dealing with another short-term job. The flight was smooth, the in-flight movie sucked, and service was tolerable. We were checked in, DNA scanned, and then we headed to the patients. Brenda conducted interviews, and...yeah, they're a little crazy. It'll wear off, but afterwards...this is an incident that's going on their records. These are the sorts of things that wreck careers. And again, I have a little seed of bitterness toward the Prince and his...knights. Sure, the Prince thought he was doing me a favor by bringing me into the court. But these guys were all just wrong place wrong time when a Malkavian came to town. Given what I've seen of the FAS, I hope the command structure is okay with being in the service industries after they muster out. Even if we save their careers, they're kinda hosed.

			An aside for the moment - I can, with effort, forgive the Prince for his deeds with my greymatta. He thought he was doing me a kindness, a favor if you will. Though this is madness, yet there be method in it. As I have eternity to work out my mental quirks and kinks, it's a bump in the road. I can take the long view, and see the merit of his actions - as much as they have rustled my jimmies in a most unpleasant manner. That's a revenge that I can take in installments. But to simply go in and drive 50-some mortal to madness, causing all sorts of mayhem and attracting an undue attention to all sorts of things, not to mention their lives and careers have taken a dramatic turn south on a whimsy, is an abuse of power that will not go quietly into that night. I spent one eternity being an unpleasant fellow to the mortals, I will condone only Brendas' unpleasantness in this - and that only because I understand far and fully the necessity of that unpleasantness.

	The solution to this, obviously, is that a new Prince must be acquired. Perhaps even a new political structure entirely. In the midst of all this is a second dose of Vitamin Jasonblood for the Colonel who tells people she's 30, but is really 36. With that sorted, back to Boston and the meeting. I get in touch with Hugo, and find out he's been contracted for a job; to wit, stealing a brooch from the Toreador Primogen. Oh hell the fuck yes. And mad props to Hugo, he got a boon out of the deal contingent upon success. Now, the last time he tried breaking and entering I recall it not going quite so well - we're gonna change the odds up a bit. I'll need a modeler, a few hours of runtime, and the brooch. I'll have to talk to Elsa about it, get a boon from her for keeping the real brooch in her dainty hands and alerting her of such a travesty, hand the fake to Hugo who gets a boon from the Nosferatu, and then we come back to cash them in later.		The solution to this, obviously, is that a new Prince must be acquired. Perhaps even a new political structure entirely. In the midst of all this is a second dose of Vitamin Jasonblood for the Colonel who tells people she's 30, but is really 36. With that sorted, back to Boston and the meeting. I get in touch with Hugo, and find out he's been contracted for a job; to wit, stealing a brooch from the Toreador Primogen. Oh hell the fuck yes. And mad props to Hugo, he got a boon out of the deal contingent upon success. Now, the last time he tried breaking and entering I recall it not going quite so well - we're gonna change the odds up a bit. I'll need a modeler, a few hours of runtime, and the brooch. I'll have to talk to Elsa about it, get a boon from her for keeping the real brooch in her dainty hands and alerting her of such a travesty, hand the fake to Hugo who gets a boon from the Nosferatu, and then we come back to cash them in later.

Auggy: /* We do not approve. */

2016-05-08T16:00:28Z

We do not approve.

← Older revision		Revision as of 10:00, 8 May 2016
Line 385:		Line 385:

	== We do not approve. ==		== We do not approve. ==

			So things happened while I was mentally out and breaking out my impression of the monty python; apparently everyone fed, declined a rude invitation, and then brought one of the inviters back for a discussion with a stake in his chest. Some shenanigans ensued, and well, apparently Cass got a little wild. After which the group was nice enough to consider what to do with the knocked-out batcrap crazy vampire when he wakes up all crazy and cranky.

			It's nice to be loved. But Cass and Hugo went to a pet store or 5, while Brenda acquired a few winos. It was an undeclared race, and Brenda won.

			Which brings us to the parts I remember; it really starts off on a down note so think of a cute fuzzy kitten while reading this next part. I woke up with a full belly and two dessicated bums, and that sinking feeling anyone of an age gets when they're coming out of the visit to crazytown and they realize that they have done screwed the pooch severely. Also, I was hammered. Like Bacchanal of 97 hammered. All of this made for an interesting hour or two while I waxed depressed about the human condition, my own sorry ass, and my utter inability to control myself. Gradually sobering, it was one of those "I got shit to do" times. (As a sidebar, I truly envy Brendas' inhumanness sometimes. Sometimes.) But, I went from Crazytown to the suburb of Drunksville called Sad, and then a final stop and Hangover City.

			I hate Hangover City. Nothing's nice. From there we finally wound up in what-next-ville. Which after some discussion turn to "Back to Ipswich", on account of we got shit to do there. Put on the Rich-guy persona and we rented a nice SUV (it had a bar, but I did not spring for the hot tub), hauled ass back to Ipswich, and found out that as the entire command structure had been replaced (Sent to Bethesda for medical evaluation), the operation was being stamped "successfully concluded" and the wrapup was in play. Well...there goes the easy path to world domination. Dammit. Mountain to Mohammed time. And, all of this gave me something to do so I wouldn't sit and brood about my miserable state like some whiny Louis - seriously. So after all the initial interviews and discussions, we're heading to the Colonel tomorrow via proper chopper, and then back to Boston for a meeting with our newest personage from the Hand - an old Nos named Benjamin. Thankfully, my dayplanner is clear for the moment. I mean the dead chick ain't getting any deader, and as I recall, it's difficult to keep a stout defense up for any length of time. So at least a couple nights of longterm prep will not go amiss. So I bought the farm. Well, the farmhouse we were borrowing for the time being. I had an hour to kill, and we're gonna need a staging area for any eventual attack on Boston, if it goes the violent route. Livestock's getting sold. Cause I can - hell I might turn this into a rental property later on down the road. ROI is a thing.

			Next night, I felt better. I break into Bethesda's cloudstore, build Brenda an alias so she can be my medical consultant. I get to da choppa, and an hour later we're in Bethesda. Hugo was given the job of taking the SUV back to Boston and dealing with another short-term job. The flight was smooth, the in-flight movie sucked, and service was tolerable. We were checked in, DNA scanned, and then we headed to the patients. Brenda conducted interviews, and...yeah, they're a little crazy. It'll wear off, but afterwards...this is an incident that's going on their records. These are the sorts of things that wreck careers. And again, I have a little seed of bitterness toward the Prince and his...knights. Sure, the Prince thought he was doing me a favor by bringing me into the court. But these guys were all just wrong place wrong time when a Malkavian came to town. Given what I've seen of the FAS, I hope the command structure is okay with being in the service industries after they muster out. Even if we save their careers, they're kinda hosed.

			The solution to this, obviously, is that a new Prince must be acquired. Perhaps even a new political structure entirely. In the midst of all this is a second dose of Vitamin Jasonblood for the Colonel who tells people she's 30, but is really 36. With that sorted, back to Boston and the meeting. I get in touch with Hugo, and find out he's been contracted for a job; to wit, stealing a brooch from the Toreador Primogen. Oh hell the fuck yes. And mad props to Hugo, he got a boon out of the deal contingent upon success. Now, the last time he tried breaking and entering I recall it not going quite so well - we're gonna change the odds up a bit. I'll need a modeler, a few hours of runtime, and the brooch. I'll have to talk to Elsa about it, get a boon from her for keeping the real brooch in her dainty hands and alerting her of such a travesty, hand the fake to Hugo who gets a boon from the Nosferatu, and then we come back to cash them in later.

			Don't hate the playa. Hate the game.

			So now, the meeting with the Nosferatu. We kept it short, especially since a fair chunk of the lighting was Bens' own bioluminescence, and there were a shit-ton of crabs. The deal is thus. There's three vampires of about 16th century vintage running, well, New England. One of them is the one who was the mysterious Boss, and two others who would be Sabbat members if they weren't killing Sabbat members left and right. Also, one of them by the name of Warwick has compromised about 99% of the Nosferatu. The next bit is where it gets interesting. With regard to the Soul Vault, he didn't have any location. We discussed, and it seems like my longterm plan to flip if not the Milliner branch of the Giovanni, then all of Boston might be viable.

			Now to make it happen.

Auggy at 14:23, 8 May 2016

2016-05-08T14:23:04Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:23, 8 May 2016
Line 383:		Line 383:

	Returning to the hotel to take my watch over Jason, who I hope comes back to his senses one day. I do. Brenda says he's gone crazy before. He'd mentioned something about some horrific things he'd done , telepathically, during the dragon feast...disturbing as that isn't the Jason I know. Another topic to discuss with him when he comes back to his right mind. Frankly simply some time to decompress and think was what I wanted, so I stayed in while Hugo and Brenda went to feed. I hear them returning down the hallway now, but it sounds like they are not alone.		Returning to the hotel to take my watch over Jason, who I hope comes back to his senses one day. I do. Brenda says he's gone crazy before. He'd mentioned something about some horrific things he'd done , telepathically, during the dragon feast...disturbing as that isn't the Jason I know. Another topic to discuss with him when he comes back to his right mind. Frankly simply some time to decompress and think was what I wanted, so I stayed in while Hugo and Brenda went to feed. I hear them returning down the hallway now, but it sounds like they are not alone.

			== We do not approve. ==

Hayley: /* Down With the King (Cass' Take) */

2016-04-28T13:53:02Z

Down With the King (Cass' Take)

← Older revision		Revision as of 07:53, 28 April 2016
Line 378:		Line 378:
	The Prince of Boston's sins however, are worse than that. After all of this, he did a rousing "go get 'em" speech, and then promptly did something to Jason that has removed him from all sanity. If the Prince is mad, he shared his madness with Jason. Who now believes himself to be a Knight of the round table, accompanied by an angel, infallible, with some sort of holy chalice (it's just a goblet of ordinary matter but that's not how he sees it), who must go get the infidel Setites now. Somebody have mercy on us, since God won't, this is too much. Nothing I know of can snap him out of it, nor Brenda. After convincing him to at least get armor, he's forgoing guns as a dishonorable weapon, I tied him down which took some doing. Let me repeat that, it bears repeating. JASON doesn't WANT his GUNS. Nothing is convincing him to not charge off into ipswitch tonight, no amount of cajoling convinces him to delay, and he's not in the right state of mind nor prepared enough to go deal with this. It's a death sentence, and a certain recipe for failure. I attempted to dissuade him by removing his "holy chalice", but he wound up simply frenzying. I returned it but, no avail there. Note to self, do not touch the sippy cup safety blanket. Brenda managed to knock him out kindly at that point, for which I am quite grateful to her.		The Prince of Boston's sins however, are worse than that. After all of this, he did a rousing "go get 'em" speech, and then promptly did something to Jason that has removed him from all sanity. If the Prince is mad, he shared his madness with Jason. Who now believes himself to be a Knight of the round table, accompanied by an angel, infallible, with some sort of holy chalice (it's just a goblet of ordinary matter but that's not how he sees it), who must go get the infidel Setites now. Somebody have mercy on us, since God won't, this is too much. Nothing I know of can snap him out of it, nor Brenda. After convincing him to at least get armor, he's forgoing guns as a dishonorable weapon, I tied him down which took some doing. Let me repeat that, it bears repeating. JASON doesn't WANT his GUNS. Nothing is convincing him to not charge off into ipswitch tonight, no amount of cajoling convinces him to delay, and he's not in the right state of mind nor prepared enough to go deal with this. It's a death sentence, and a certain recipe for failure. I attempted to dissuade him by removing his "holy chalice", but he wound up simply frenzying. I returned it but, no avail there. Note to self, do not touch the sippy cup safety blanket. Brenda managed to knock him out kindly at that point, for which I am quite grateful to her.

	For this, it is for THIS, that I am going to one day ensure the Prince of Boston is put down like the stark raving mad dog he is. Who the hell lets a Malkavian rule anyhow? Who is the power behind the prince that is supporting this? I will have my answers, and I will have some payback as well. That is a dish of revenge that will have to be served quite cold, but we're immortal afterall.		For this, it is for THIS, that I am going to one day ensure the Prince of Boston is put down like the stark raving mad dog he is. Who the hell lets a Malkavian rule anyhow? Who is the power behind the prince that is supporting this? I will have my answers, and I will have some payback as well. That is a dish of revenge that will have to be served quite cold, but we're immortal afterall. One does not fuck with my mission, screw with my friend, and send him to die and in the process ensure the failure of the Hand, and get to get away with it.

	Afterwards I attempted to go feed in peace, having spent a bit more than I wanted to in subduing Jason and earlier events, and found myself a nice little goth coffee house. Goths are so easy to feed upon, because they're so willing. I'm attractive enough I effectively have them eating out of my hand as I eat from theirs. Granted, I take longer than some of my kind to feed, because I would prefer none of them wake up the next morning feeling worse for wear, which means it's more of a snack buffet than anything. Everyone goes home happy, with no more guilt on my conscience than I walked in with. As is my usual luck however, when I went to leave I noticed the distinct sense of three other vampires using Celerity. One who hid in the shadows, two who approached me. "Someone" wanted me in a car to go speak with them. They're important don't you see, so I get to be kidnapped and don't need to know who. This got old decades ago, I'm quite tired of being the neophyte who gets kidnapped whenever someone wants to talk to me. Did these people never have mothers to teach them better manners?? If they'd at all bother to perhaps oh, ask semi politely, they'd get a much better reception from me. As it was however, while I know I am capable in a physical fight, one against three who already had Celerity activated wasn't odds I cared for. I told them off, staying quite well in the public eye near the coffee house. Alright, perhaps that's cowardly, but, so is kidnapping people. They weren't any pleased about it, but reminded me I could not hide here forever. That much is true, but a witty rejoinder I didn't have. Either way...using what I learned the last time I was in Enoch I gave them the slip in the shadows myself, and weaved my way back to the hotel without being followed. Dimwits. I'm in no mood to play right now. I have a setite, werewolf, and masquerade problems in Ipswitch, all brewing, while dealing with this insanity with the Prince, my tolerance for bullshit is at it's limit.		Afterwards I attempted to go feed in peace, having spent a bit more than I wanted to in subduing Jason and earlier events, and found myself a nice little goth coffee house. Goths are so easy to feed upon, because they're so willing. I'm attractive enough I effectively have them eating out of my hand as I eat from theirs. Granted, I take longer than some of my kind to feed, because I would prefer none of them wake up the next morning feeling worse for wear, which means it's more of a snack buffet than anything. Everyone goes home happy, with no more guilt on my conscience than I walked in with. As is my usual luck however, when I went to leave I noticed the distinct sense of three other vampires using Celerity. One who hid in the shadows, two who approached me. "Someone" wanted me in a car to go speak with them. They're important don't you see, so I get to be kidnapped and don't need to know who. This got old decades ago, I'm quite tired of being the neophyte who gets kidnapped whenever someone wants to talk to me. Did these people never have mothers to teach them better manners?? If they'd at all bother to perhaps oh, ask semi politely, they'd get a much better reception from me. As it was however, while I know I am capable in a physical fight, one against three who already had Celerity activated wasn't odds I cared for. I told them off, staying quite well in the public eye near the coffee house. Alright, perhaps that's cowardly, but, so is kidnapping people. They weren't any pleased about it, but reminded me I could not hide here forever. That much is true, but a witty rejoinder I didn't have. Either way...using what I learned the last time I was in Enoch I gave them the slip in the shadows myself, and weaved my way back to the hotel without being followed. Dimwits. I'm in no mood to play right now. I have a setite, werewolf, and masquerade problems in Ipswitch, all brewing, while dealing with this insanity with the Prince, my tolerance for bullshit is at it's limit.

	Returning to the hotel to take my watch over Jason, who I hope comes back to his senses one day. I do. Brenda says he's gone crazy before. He'd mentioned something about some horrific things he'd done , telepathically, during the dragon feast...disturbing as that isn't the Jason I know. Another topic to discuss with him when he comes back to his right mind. Frankly simply some time to decompress and think was what I wanted, so I stayed in while Hugo and Brenda went to feed. I hear them returning down the hallway now, but it sounds like they are not alone.		Returning to the hotel to take my watch over Jason, who I hope comes back to his senses one day. I do. Brenda says he's gone crazy before. He'd mentioned something about some horrific things he'd done , telepathically, during the dragon feast...disturbing as that isn't the Jason I know. Another topic to discuss with him when he comes back to his right mind. Frankly simply some time to decompress and think was what I wanted, so I stayed in while Hugo and Brenda went to feed. I hear them returning down the hallway now, but it sounds like they are not alone.

Hayley: /* Down With the King */

2016-04-28T13:48:37Z

Down With the King

← Older revision		Revision as of 07:48, 28 April 2016
Line 362:		Line 362:
	''The favor of Lady Elsa. They have taken it.''		''The favor of Lady Elsa. They have taken it.''

	== Down With the King ==		== Down With the King (Cass' Take) ==

	I swear on whatever is left of my soul to swear upon, I am going to get that goddamn Malkavian one day. One day, hopefully sooner than later, I want his ass staked, doused in holy water, unstaked JUST LONG ENOUGH to realize exactly HOW much he has fucked up, and restaked. Then burned. His ashes spread across a church ground in Alaska where the sun shines for 6 months out of the year. And polar bears piss.		I swear on whatever is left of my soul to swear upon, I am going to get that goddamn Malkavian one day. One day, hopefully sooner than later, I want his ass staked, doused in holy water, unstaked JUST LONG ENOUGH to realize exactly HOW much he has fucked up, and restaked. Then burned. His ashes spread across a church ground in Alaska where the sun shines for 6 months out of the year. And polar bears piss.

Hayley at 13:47, 28 April 2016

2016-04-28T13:47:45Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 07:47, 28 April 2016
Line 361:		Line 361:

	''The favor of Lady Elsa. They have taken it.''		''The favor of Lady Elsa. They have taken it.''

			== Down With the King ==

			I swear on whatever is left of my soul to swear upon, I am going to get that goddamn Malkavian one day. One day, hopefully sooner than later, I want his ass staked, doused in holy water, unstaked JUST LONG ENOUGH to realize exactly HOW much he has fucked up, and restaked. Then burned. His ashes spread across a church ground in Alaska where the sun shines for 6 months out of the year. And polar bears piss.

			Whatever plans Jason had for turning Boston to the League are long dead now, and I wouldn't be terribly sorry to see most of this court burn to be replaced entirely by another. But I get ahead of myself, and Jason is in no state to explain. The cluster-fuck that was Ipswitch, has become the cluster fuck that is Boston. The Prince, ugh, I loathe to even call him by title, decided to take offense that we hadn't played introduction and tea time before going to deal with the massive Setite problem. After screwing with the FAS and demanding we go along, I dragged Brenda and Jason's inert bodies into a limo, Hugo helping, and dealt with the Prince's second in command. Who seems suspiciously intelligent and semi sane for a Malkavian but, I digress. She's an oddity, something puts me at ill ease around her but I have no firm things to go on. Anyhow, After being trotted around Boston and put in a nice hotel that mostly served as a reminder of who had more wealth and power here, subtlety is not a Malkavian's forte apparently, we had to explain ourselves to the court of Boston.

			"My" primogen, or more accurately, the Brujah primogen Pug Jackson seems a reasonable sort. His restraint and disgust at the later festivities has only earned him more respect in my eyes, even if he plays up certain stereotypes fairly heavily. Perhaps to his benefit however. Primogens abounded and the Nosferatu quietly let me know that they are also Hand, with several pieces of key information for us. That the prince is not in charge, to talk later, and that I was not passing off well as Brujah. My current identity as Dawn Bearpaw - sister of Joseph Bearpaw, he Toreador, and I Brujah, may need some revisiting. Apparently my adherence to the societal norms and reservation is too obvious these days. I remember when I first met Jason, simply beating the snot out of things and outbursts came easier then. Was it because I didn't know the cost of what I was doing and my status as newly changed gave me some leeway in behavior, nevermind the clan association? Or is it that simply the nature of my true clan is starting to set in and show through? I fear it's more the latter, than the former, nearly as much as I fear true death knowing I am now damned. I do not envy the older members of my clan, perhaps I find myself wishing I had some of their powers, but I do not envy their distance from the world. Something to think on when we get back to Enoch. If we get back to Enoch.

			After the nudge from a fellow Hand member however, I proceeded to make a grand fool of myself. The toreador Primogen, Elsa...there is something about her. Perhaps it is some power of her clan, perhaps it is something she herself knows, whatever it is, she is the most beautiful, ethereal, and attractive creature I have ever met. More than that though, she reminded me of my youth, which seems so long ago as to be forgotten, and all things human. All things ''new''. The dead opposite of everything I fear becoming due to my clan. Men are usually what I would be interested in, nevermind some early questions on that in my youth, but Elsa is a wholehearted exception to that. Or she would be, had I not immediately alienated her upon introduction. Jason fared better, and for one of the few times since I met him I was truly jealous. This Brujah thing needs some revisiting I believe.

			Eternal status musing and pretty (probably backstabbing, and horrifically evil, and it would never work) Toreador aside, I behaved myself in something of a less than dignified manner. Which upon reminding Jason to discuss the problem of the fuzzy assholes we call werewolves, apparently THAT was sensitive enough (the whole thing wasn't? really?), to go to "Camelot".

			Camelot, is a decrepit old house, reeking of evil and death, rotting to it's core. Ruled by the madman of a Prince who believes himself to be King Arthur and followed by his knights of the roundtable. Except there is nothing admirable, nor good about this King Arthur. Children, disabled, mortals in a terrible state are kept here, dirty, diseased, and abused. That alone was enough to make my stomach turn. Beyond that though, there was the dragon feast. Something that would make me wish the Prince of Boston dead and refuse to work with him on it's own, but he committed an even worse offense later. As it turns out a dragon feast is where a set of "cops" of some sort, perhaps ghouls or simply a mockery, drag in prisoners. Perhaps they weren't good people, but they didn't deserve that, nobody deserves that. Mortal and kindred alike were set upon them to feast. Brenda indulged herself fully, something I am trying hard not to hold against her. I lost track of Hugo at this juncture, but I myself was too revolted to focus on anything else. This mockery of all that is good in the world, all that one might admire about humanity, in the middle of perhaps the most depraved thing I have ever watched. Granted, I have seen the aftermath of the Setites more than their actions, but this was wholly screwed up. Pug Jackson refrained as well, he looked none too happy to be there, which makes me deem him both sane, and perhaps worthy of dealing with.

			The Prince of Boston's sins however, are worse than that. After all of this, he did a rousing "go get 'em" speech, and then promptly did something to Jason that has removed him from all sanity. If the Prince is mad, he shared his madness with Jason. Who now believes himself to be a Knight of the round table, accompanied by an angel, infallible, with some sort of holy chalice (it's just a goblet of ordinary matter but that's not how he sees it), who must go get the infidel Setites now. Somebody have mercy on us, since God won't, this is too much. Nothing I know of can snap him out of it, nor Brenda. After convincing him to at least get armor, he's forgoing guns as a dishonorable weapon, I tied him down which took some doing. Let me repeat that, it bears repeating. JASON doesn't WANT his GUNS. Nothing is convincing him to not charge off into ipswitch tonight, no amount of cajoling convinces him to delay, and he's not in the right state of mind nor prepared enough to go deal with this. It's a death sentence, and a certain recipe for failure. I attempted to dissuade him by removing his "holy chalice", but he wound up simply frenzying. I returned it but, no avail there. Note to self, do not touch the sippy cup safety blanket. Brenda managed to knock him out kindly at that point, for which I am quite grateful to her.

			For this, it is for THIS, that I am going to one day ensure the Prince of Boston is put down like the stark raving mad dog he is. Who the hell lets a Malkavian rule anyhow? Who is the power behind the prince that is supporting this? I will have my answers, and I will have some payback as well. That is a dish of revenge that will have to be served quite cold, but we're immortal afterall.

			Afterwards I attempted to go feed in peace, having spent a bit more than I wanted to in subduing Jason and earlier events, and found myself a nice little goth coffee house. Goths are so easy to feed upon, because they're so willing. I'm attractive enough I effectively have them eating out of my hand as I eat from theirs. Granted, I take longer than some of my kind to feed, because I would prefer none of them wake up the next morning feeling worse for wear, which means it's more of a snack buffet than anything. Everyone goes home happy, with no more guilt on my conscience than I walked in with. As is my usual luck however, when I went to leave I noticed the distinct sense of three other vampires using Celerity. One who hid in the shadows, two who approached me. "Someone" wanted me in a car to go speak with them. They're important don't you see, so I get to be kidnapped and don't need to know who. This got old decades ago, I'm quite tired of being the neophyte who gets kidnapped whenever someone wants to talk to me. Did these people never have mothers to teach them better manners?? If they'd at all bother to perhaps oh, ask semi politely, they'd get a much better reception from me. As it was however, while I know I am capable in a physical fight, one against three who already had Celerity activated wasn't odds I cared for. I told them off, staying quite well in the public eye near the coffee house. Alright, perhaps that's cowardly, but, so is kidnapping people. They weren't any pleased about it, but reminded me I could not hide here forever. That much is true, but a witty rejoinder I didn't have. Either way...using what I learned the last time I was in Enoch I gave them the slip in the shadows myself, and weaved my way back to the hotel without being followed. Dimwits. I'm in no mood to play right now. I have a setite, werewolf, and masquerade problems in Ipswitch, all brewing, while dealing with this insanity with the Prince, my tolerance for bullshit is at it's limit.

			Returning to the hotel to take my watch over Jason, who I hope comes back to his senses one day. I do. Brenda says he's gone crazy before. He'd mentioned something about some horrific things he'd done , telepathically, during the dragon feast...disturbing as that isn't the Jason I know. Another topic to discuss with him when he comes back to his right mind. Frankly simply some time to decompress and think was what I wanted, so I stayed in while Hugo and Brenda went to feed. I hear them returning down the hallway now, but it sounds like they are not alone.