((yeah, it's just the holidays you know. personally, i've been sick and haven't felt up to posting anything of substance. but i'm coming around now and just before i fell ill was planning to post a big one that would shift the scenery a bit and allow the characters a bit more freedom.

anyway, no worries. give everyone a chance to recover from the christmas/new years bug and we'll up and running again in no time flat.

[i:e85cd64155]"Lupus Mortis...?"[/i:e85cd64155] the whisper seeped through Gabriel's lips and was lost to the drone of the steambarges churning engines. The accursed sword that, at least in the Ventrue's opinion had driven his friend Graventhorp to the brink of madness.

[i:e85cd64155]"Ventrue!"[/i:e85cd64155]

His head snapped towards the Lasombra, who stood eyeing him impatiently.

[i:e85cd64155]"I'm sorry...what was that?"[/i:e85cd64155]

[i:e85cd64155]"Forgive me for interupting your stupor,"[/i:e85cd64155] he hissed darkly, his temperment clearly strained by the ever-evolving mess the coterie had found themselves in, [i:e85cd64155]"I merely suggested that we mind rape him and save ourselves a lengthy interogation."[/i:e85cd64155]

The idea of resorting too such base manipulations left a sour taste in Gabriel's mouth, but as he searched the weary faces of his companions, he could sense that they were in no mood for further tribulations. Already they had been detoured from whatever plans of revelry they had arrived at the nightclub with to some insane wandering that was about to take them halfway across the world with a group of kindred they barely even knew!

[i:e85cd64155]"I know we're all eager for some answers, but we haven't even really given him an opportunity to cooperate."[/i:e85cd64155] Gabriel sat upon his haunches in front of the clone, who stared back blankly, obviously as confused as any. [i:e85cd64155]"Now...who are you?"[/i:e85cd64155]

[i:e85cd64155]"My name is Graventhorp."[/i:e85cd64155] the battered captive replied. There was the decidedly unpleasant wet sound of a boot going through a watermelon and the clone groaned and lurched forward, faceplanting himself into the deck.

Porter stood over the unconcious body, a large rusted pipe slick with fresh blood. He peered defiantly at the Ventrue.

[i:e85cd64155]"Mind fuck em..."[/i:e85cd64155] he grumbled.

***********************************

By the time Herman and Gabriel took respite from their cerebral assaults, the junk barge was creeping slowly through the rustic backwood of Louisiana towards New Orleans. The lights of the Big Easy were little more than a soft glow on the horizon that fought hard, but ultimately failed, to dominate the serpentine silver streaks of moonlight that danced whistfully on the waves of the river.

The rest of the coterie sighed a collective breath of relief when the clone's agonized screams finally fell silent, reducing themselves gradually into blood soaked, uncontrollable sobs. For the duration of an hour, the two Kindred had pried at their adversaries mind unmercifully, tormenting him with visions of the past and of nightmares so ungodly, that the prisoner could only twist and contort in horror. Murder, slaughter, pain, horror, rape, mutilation, abuse. Great masses of twisted, melting flesh, writhing like oil over great, gnarled bones, in an endless state of deterioration flashing before his eyes.

Mere trangressions were manipulated into unforgivable sins that threatened to devour whatever type of soul he may possess. The evokation of pained loved ones blinded his senses. Even without specifics, such as who they were or if they even existed, his emotions of horror and despair were amplified to their breaking points.

All this....and Herman and Gabriel had gained nothing. No glimpse into his past, whether he was telling the truth or not....nothing. They sat on the barge's railing, arms folded, staring at the broken heap before them.

[i:e85cd64155]"Nothing?"[/i:e85cd64155] Herman grumbled, knowing full well the answer.

[i:e85cd64155]"Not an iota."[/i:e85cd64155]

[i:e85cd64155]"Shit. Lets just tear him in two and toss him overboard."[/i:e85cd64155] he hissed, intentionally loud enough for the clone to hear, although it registered no visible response.

[i:e85cd64155]"No. We're taking him with us."[/i:e85cd64155] the Ventrue growled. He had known about Lupus Mortis AND Graventhorp, perhaps he could be useful in shedding some light on the circumstances surrounding the City Gangrel's demise.

*******************************

[i:e85cd64155]"You're kidding me."[/i:e85cd64155] Isabella stared in disbelief at what had been placed before her, barely visible in the dim lighting on the tarmac. Her protest was lost to the high velocity whine of jet engines.

She looked at Ewan for confirmation, but he was busily engaged in a debate with Gabriel, Herman, and Alois about the finality of their destination. The Ventrue was assuring them of their purpose and effectively dissuading them of abandoning the entire venture.

She sought respite in an easier target.

[i:e85cd64155]"Is this some sort of sick joke?!"[/i:e85cd64155] she pleaded once more, pointing at the opened cargo containers that were no bigger than a coffin. Eight in total, they were neatly aligned in a row before the coterie, bare and marked 'Fragile: This Way Up' on the sides.

[i:e85cd64155]"I'm afraid not."[/i:e85cd64155] Morrag feigned distress, if only to comfort the Toreador and return to her own thoughts. Porter huffed in amusement.

Several feet away, Gabriel made a sweeping gesture of finality and stepped back within audible range, stepping over the garment bag that contained the clone's still unconcious body.

[i:e85cd64155]"....and of course I can assure you both you'll be [b:e85cd64155]well[/b:e85cd64155] compensated for your trouble."[/i:e85cd64155] he shouted over his shoulder, leaning down now to inspect the 'individual suites' Drain had made arrangements for. [i:e85cd64155]"This is what I'm giving up my manifests for?"[/i:e85cd64155]

Alois followed him, clearly not quite convinced.

[i:e85cd64155]"Well I certainly hope you know what you're getting us into O'Brien. I've never heard of any Dennevaun.."[/i:e85cd64155]

[i:e85cd64155]"Dennevaul."[/i:e85cd64155] Porter corrected him. The Toreador eyed the Gangrel warily.

[i:e85cd64155]"Whatever. I've never heard of this guy and frankly running halfway across the world to pick a fight with him isn't my idea of a good time."[/i:e85cd64155]

[i:e85cd64155]"Listen,"[/i:e85cd64155] Gabriel stood and turned to face Alois and Herman. "[i:e85cd64155]all I'm asking for is for the two of you to accompany us. Once we find him, Porter and I will handle him personally. That's it."[/i:e85cd64155]

Herman and Alois gave a mutual scoff and Gabriel was left to wonder whether they were doubting his abilities or at the thought of being left out of the action.

[i:e85cd64155]"Enough talk. Lets get moving."[/i:e85cd64155] the Gangrel grumbled, his eye glistening dangerously in the wane of the night.

**************************************

Gabriel awoke with a start to the sound of wood splintering and a fuzzy image of Porter standing over him.


[i:e85cd64155]Wake up pup. We're here."[/i:e85cd64155]

He rose slowly, still unsure of his surroundings, to find he was the last to do so. The others, 182 included, had already awoken and stood in the cramped space that sat directly behind the baggage carrousel. The eight pine boxes sat in the center of the room, their former inhabitants stretching before their respective container.

Porter helped the Ventrue to his feet.

[i:f6826bb189]"Arrived about twenty minutes ago. We're still waiting for Drain's contact."[/i:f6826bb189] he grumbled.

[i:f6826bb189]"And our things?"[/i:f6826bb189] Gabriel asked, glancing around for the duffel bag of various odds and ends he had procurred from Alekz just before their hasty departure. The room was lined with great steel shelves that sat vacant and unused. Judging by the size of the baggage room and it's relative emptiness, whatever airport they had arrived at was a small one.

[i:f6826bb189]"Haven't seen em."[/i:f6826bb189] the Gangrel grumbled. A door on the far end of the room cracked open slightly and a well manicured hand was barely visible. Their was a brief hesitation, as though the owner of the hand was testing the waters, and then a head followed.

The man's face was thin and full of expression. A raven chapeau crowned a wet, neatly kept head of hair. Thin, nearly penciled eyebrows seemed ever-raised above a set of sharp, azul eyes that inspected the rooms inhabitants with keen interest. A razor pointed nose paired with a thin, grinning set of lips rounded off the face. The final point was a ridiculous mustache, which could only be described as WAFER-thin.

The face scrutinized the group for a moment longer, and then emerged fully into view. He wore a tight black and white striped shirt and near skin tight black pants. In his two dainty hands, a dark green duffel bag that Gabriel instantly recognized.

[i:f6826bb189]"Ho ho ho! Bonjour! Comme tappel tu? J'amapelle Jacques!"[/i:f6826bb189] he said in a haughty voice that held a ridiculously thick accent. The coterie exchanged puzzled glances. Was this guy for real?

[i:f6826bb189]"C'mon Pepe Lapu."[/i:f6826bb189] Herman grumbled. Jacques looked momentarily perplexed.

[i:f6826bb189]"Drop the ruse."[/i:f6826bb189] Isabella said flatly, her arms crossed.

[i:f6826bb189]"Oh ha ha ha ha..."[/i:f6826bb189] Jacques laughed abruptdly, dropping the bag and clutching his stomach. The boisterous chortle filled the tiny room, and Gabriel could sense Porter losing his patience.

As the waifish figure laughed, he began to change. His pallid skin grew darker, and splotchy. The stereotypical outfit gradually melted away, reduced to ancient, rotting rags. The perfectly aligned ivory teeth contorted and grew jagged and sharp before their eyes. The once pleasant face melted like rancid pudding, held together only by a quickly congealing skin, with tiny, loose folds collecting at the neck. The features disentigrated greatly, becoming a mass of putrid, brown flesh.

[i:f6826bb189]"My apologies to you all."[/i:f6826bb189] he grumbled, wiping a blood tear from his eye, and still in between chuckles. [i:f6826bb189]"I was simply trying to live up to your American ideals. The world is so effective at disillusioning all of us these nights that I feel it's my duty to provide a little....ermm...reassurence."[/i:f6826bb189]

[i:f6826bb189]"You're Drain's contact then?"[/i:f6826bb189] Gabriel stepped forward, already regretting the question.

[i:f6826bb189]"Well I'm not Napolean."[/i:f6826bb189] he cackled. [i:f6826bb189]"Here are your things. You all pack light!"[/i:f6826bb189]

[i:f6826bb189]"Not by choice."[/i:f6826bb189] Herman grumbled, shooting a hot glance at the Ventrue.

[i:f6826bb189]"Listen...Jacques....we need to get out to..."[/i:f6826bb189] Gabriel began.

[i:f6826bb189]"Yeah I know, Dennevaul's country. At least there won't be any traffic."[/i:f6826bb189] the french Nosferatu stated flatly, turning to open the door.

[i:f6826bb189]"What's that mean?"[/i:f6826bb189] Porter asked. The Nosferatu turned and glanced over one abscess filled shoulder, his eye gleaming.

[i:f6826bb189]"You'll see."[/i:f6826bb189]

***************************

The ride was uneventful, yet scenic. Gabriel took in the French countryside with contentment, remembering the last time he had visited here. It had been shortly after Kathy, Julius, Eveshka, and he had returned from Shal-Ka-Mense. The mage had been planning his School for Magi and Eveshka had returned to ruling her domain. He recalled how happy he had been...

Jacques had been correct in his statement, there was little traffic. In fact there wasn't any at all. As Gabriel mulled it over, he realized he hadn't seen a car since they had left the tiny rural airport, and he hadn't even seen any there!

The landscape was filled with the rolling hills and patches of farmland it was known for, but it was lifeless and void. A thick, all encompassing fog had rolled over the swelling hills and valleys, obscurring their finer features. The trees seemed barren and inorganic, skeletal husks provided only to fill the horizon.

Their Nossie driver offered no history or guidance as they rode, even as they departed the main highway and onto a series of smaller, backroads. Twisting and turning, the coterie made their way through rural, forgotten France. They spoke uneasily as they went, trying to keep their mind off the dreary, exhausted landscape and feeling of malaise that permeated all.

Finally, the car lurched to an abrupt halt and the Nosferatu climbed out of the driver's seat, leaving them temporarily alone in the van.

[i:f6826bb189]"Are we here?"[/i:f6826bb189] Alois asked, his eyes unable to make any type of destination out through the fog, which had inexpicably grown thicker.

[i:f6826bb189]"We'll find out."[/i:f6826bb189] Morrag groaned. The back doors were thrown open and Jacques stood before them, his former jovial attitude gone, and replaced with a wary look of caution.

[i:f6826bb189]"Here you are."[/i:f6826bb189] he said as they piled out. He pointed down the road, which was a gravel one with extensive ditches on either side. The end was of course obscurred by the heavy myst, and only the great, grasping trees that lined either side like a funeral procession indicated their route. [i:f6826bb189]"Scenic Oradour-sur-Glane, in the departement of Lozere."[/i:f6826bb189]

[i:f6826bb189]"Formerly Languedoc."[/i:f6826bb189] Porter muttered, nearly to himself. Gabriel peered at him curiously. He did not return his gaze, but only peered absently into the fog. [i:f6826bb189]"Former stomping grounds of the infamous Beast of Gevaudan."[/i:f6826bb189]

[i:f6826bb189]"Quite correct."[/i:f6826bb189] Jacques stated quickly. He slammed the doors shut on the van and walked around towards the front, opening the drivers side door. [i:f6826bb189]"Now, just continue down this road a bit and you'll come to the village, right on the main rue. All you need do is follow that road and it will take you through the town and into the countryside opposite us. You'll come right to Dennevaul's residence. Simple as that."[/i:f6826bb189]

[i:f6826bb189]"Why do we have to walk if you can just drive?"[/i:f6826bb189] Isabella asked incredulously.

Jacques climbed into the van's cab and slapped the door shut behind him. His gnarled face emerged from the window and looked back at them.

[i:f6826bb189]"I owed Drain a big favor...but not that big."[/i:f6826bb189] he cackled once more, his gruesome smile barely visible in the darkness. The van churned to life and reversed, u-turned and then hobbled down the road. Moments later they were left to the silence.

[i:f6826bb189]"Lets go."[/i:f6826bb189] Porter said.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Nosferatu hadn't lied. The coterie had simply followed the road, and slowly like a developing polaroid, structures emerged from the void. One story buildings cropped up on either side of main street, quaint box-like structures, more remniscent of 1950's Americana than an ancient French village.

The buildings were barren and unused, although some of their wares suggested they were built within the last two decades. Old fashioned signs hung over their boarded up entrances, displaying their goods via picture or likeness. The optometrist had a neon sign crafted into the shape of a pair of spectacles, although the flourescence had long ago disappeared, leaving a dull, carcass behind.

The tailor's shop bore fashions as recent as the mid-90's, yet the mannequin's sat unused, staring lifelessly out into the main road, their white eyes cutting through the evening. The road itself was potholed and cracked, aged beyond it's years. It ran straight and narrow, as Jacques had said. There were no cars and no inhabitants. Only an eerie, deafening silence.

The buildings had a tarnish appearance, rust creeping where it shouldn't have. Every surface seemed derelect, decaying and dying. The windows that weren't boarded up were smudged and barely transparent. Filth and blight.

An old hinge sign groaned against it's tarnish in the slight wind that was trapped on mainstreet, as though in a windtunnel. The group walked steadily, peering at the relic they found themselves in.

[i:f6826bb189]"There."[/i:f6826bb189] Alois whispered, indicating only with his eyes what he had spotted. In the distance, in a tiny window above a butcher's shop, the curtain fell back in place.

[i:f6826bb189]"Something's wrong."[/i:f6826bb189]

OOC: Ohhh tingly.... :P Cant wait for the rest. Pity I didn't get to pick up my toys before we got here. Oh and little question why cant we smell wolf?

((it's about to become more free form...instead of just essentially being narrated. so stay tuned.

as for smelling wolf? not sure whatcha mean!

((oooooh....awesome.....will be posting ASAP...although...was 182 restrained during all this? carried unconcious? going willingly?

any of the above is alright with me, the poor fucker was already confused enough before the mind rape))

Morag shivered in the desolated air. But it wasn't the chill of the place that made her tremble, it was [b:3658c7e911]hunger[/b:3658c7e911]. She'd welcomed the torpor of travel as a way to quiet the beast, in hopes that something nourishing would be forth coming but apparently, her undead metabolism was just as high in death as it had been in life. Nor had anything been offered to them since they'd left Alekz behind.

Stingy stretching exercises, when they'd arrived at the terminal, had loosened her up but hadn't helped in calming her need to feed like she had hoped it would. It it had lain very close to the surface and she'd had to bundle herself into a corner and practice the concentration Lady Cyrilynn had taught her and, later, Alekz had beaten into her, when they'd started their grizzly work on the clone.

The screams of the dual-souled creature hadn't bothered her at all. It was the smell of his blood and the knowledge that she wouldn't be able to get close enough to him to feed that had her huddling! DAMN! She wished she could get away with putting a bullet in the Gangrel and his Ventrue sidekick, then drinking them dry. That would have solved two problems with one solution She was hanging by a literal thread by the time they'd finished with their unproductive efforts.

If she didn't find food fast, in this backwoods place, this Dennevaul Alekz wanted her to help O'Brien eliminate was going to be the least of her worries. She turned around, trying to give the entire coterie the once over, to see if she could spot which one was the weakest and most likely to become a snack item. Their prisoner was off limits, at the moment, so she didn't bother to find his position.

Then it hit her like a punch when her gaze finally alited on Ewan. Hmm... the human... how had she missed him? Did Isabelle object to sharing? Didn't matter. She pushed aside the possible impediment, then faded to the back of the coterie, her intent focused on attempting to will the woman's blood bag to lag behind.

Her eyes burned with a red haze of need as she begin stalking the Toreador's ghoul...

(( Ewan is not a ghoul as such....she would be loathe to inflict what she sees as a curse onto anyone else, he is more her minder/heroin and blood bag provider.....I quite honestly thought he would have being vamp fodder by now lolol


Isabella couldn't quite believe the events of the past few nights.....there they were out for a walk merely to freshen her foggy mind after days and nights of relentless experimentation and to try and lift the dismal feeling of failure ...once again........then in a matter of hours they were wading through a filthy sewer apparently on the run from some unseen force. Admittedly she should have paid more attention to what was being said but she was overwhelmed with the fact that after years of little or no contact with her own kind, through her own choice, she had now had no choice but to, as Ewan put it "just get on with it".

Ewan seemed not to be fazed by the fact that he was a walking meal bag for them and although she knew that they must have realised that he was not one of them she was in awe that not one of them had tried to take him from her.

That was until now........


(will try and post again laters....grrrr @kids

Herman prowled away from the group. Something wasn’t right here, but right now, the silence was broken by shattering glass. The Coterie spun round to face him so fast some of them seemed to just flick from one position to the other. He flashed his best attempt at a disarming smile.
“My cloths are literally rotting on my back do I look like a Sewer Rat?” Laughing a little he began stripping a manikin. Moments later he re-emerged from the store in torn blue jeans and a loose white shirt unbuttoned and with the sleeves rolled up, on his feet were cheap brown walking boots. Well he might not be fit for Paris or Milan but he would have to do and at least it didn’t smell like a sewer.

Thrust through a belt loop were long pair of rust spotted steel scissors, on his other hip was a splinter from the window frame. A home made stake, he might not have the weapons he desired, yet, but Herman Faust had been dangerous as a Kine before an such toys had been created. It was going to take more than being disarmed to stop him.

Still if he could get to a phone there was still a chance he could involve the Corporation in this…


OOC: I just though that mist coverd sparcely populated French countryside is the kind of place you should be carrying silver...

[quote:9447e7a86a](( Ewan is not a ghoul as such....she would be loathe to inflict what she sees as a curse onto anyone else, he is more her minder/heroin and blood bag provider.....I quite honestly thought he would have being vamp fodder by now lolol ))[/quote:9447e7a86a]

Granted but that's not how poor [b:9447e7a86a]starved[/b:9447e7a86a] Morrag views him. At this point, he's [b:9447e7a86a]dinner[/b:9447e7a86a]!! :twisted: :shock:

[i:e62a7ed9db]"Way to stay inconspicuous."[/i:e62a7ed9db] Alois grumbled as they walked, eyeing Herman's new acquisitions.

[i:e62a7ed9db]"I'll take alive over inconspicous any day."[/i:e62a7ed9db] the Lasombra shot back. [i:e62a7ed9db]"So what IS this place?"[/i:e62a7ed9db]

They peered at the aging buildings, the vacant hollow streetlamps that shone no light on the darkened main street. Great potholes were shrouded from sight in the rolling evening mist, and the coterie stepped carefully.

[i:e62a7ed9db]"Give me a moment."[/i:e62a7ed9db] Gabriel said. The coterie stopped and the Ventrue put his powers to work, spreading his mental tendrals over the tiny hamlet. His eyes shot open and he peered at his fellow Kindred in shock. [i:e62a7ed9db]"Shit."[/i:e62a7ed9db]

[i:e62a7ed9db]"What is it?"[/i:e62a7ed9db] Porter growled, now uneasy at the normally collected Ventrue's distressed expression.

[i:e62a7ed9db]"My powers....they're gone."[/i:e62a7ed9db] he muttered.

The others exchanged skeptical glances, then one by one they attempted their respective abilities. One by one, they failed.

[i:e62a7ed9db]"What is this....what's going on??"[/i:e62a7ed9db] Isabella moaned, peering nervously at the vacant windows that stared back only with a bleak darkness. The group began to mutter nervously.

[i:e62a7ed9db]"Alright. Calm down."[/i:e62a7ed9db] the Ventrue said at last, addressing the coterie. [i:e62a7ed9db]"This happened to me several weeks ago in another town we..."[/i:e62a7ed9db] he glanced at Porter, [i:e62a7ed9db]"...I...was investigating. If this place is similiar, the cap on our powers only exists within the town limits."[/i:e62a7ed9db]

[i:e62a7ed9db]"If I could make a recommendation..."[/i:e62a7ed9db]

They all stared at the clone 182 curiously.

[i:e62a7ed9db]"...maybe we should leave as quickly as possible."[/i:e62a7ed9db]

[i:e62a7ed9db]"Wait!"[/i:e62a7ed9db] Isabella suddenly blurted. [i:e62a7ed9db]"Ewan...WHERE'S EWAN?!"[/i:e62a7ed9db]

Isabela, with some predictability, spun on her heels.

[i:38e2cb25e6]“You! You bitch! What have you done to him!? I swear if you’ve hurt him, I’ll...”

Morrag's eyes flared at the accusation.

“You’ll what?! You insipid, sanctimonious trollop. You couldn’t hit me if you tried! I haven’t touched your precious bloodbag’s hide. As tempting as his throat was for tearing. I don’t know where the dumb sheep has wandered off to. To be honest I couldn’t give a shit where he is!”[/i:38e2cb25e6]

Alois and Herman both stepped between the somewhat heated women.

[i:38e2cb25e6]“Ladies, ladies! Please! Considering our current situation I would suggest a little more decorum. We’ll find your “Ewan”. But right now we have to take into account that in our current state, we are pretty vulnerable.”[/i:38e2cb25e6] Alois poised.

[i:38e2cb25e6]“You said you’ve been somewhere like this before? What exactly happened?”

“It was a Cult. Fools were awakening something they found in the earth under their town. Something....old.”[/i:38e2cb25e6]

Porter shifted from one foot to the other.

[i:38e2cb25e6]“Exactly what do you mean by “old”?”

“Ancient. We...I mean I found notes left by some expert that talked about Enkidu, the Horned God.”[/i:38e2cb25e6]

Porter mouthed his surprise rather than voice it. [i:38e2cb25e6]“Fuck...”

“I was able to stop them from completing the ritual, but it cost me several days worth of memory and resulted in the Cultist’s destruction.”

“So what do you expect us to do? Go on with no powers, get ourselves killed?”

“I don’t expect you to do anything. Porter and I are going on. What you do is entirely your call. But if there is a Cult at work here, the outcome whichever direction it takes will affect us all. But, it’s up to you.”[/i:38e2cb25e6]

[i:38e2cb25e6]“Not to sound reluctant, cub. But where exactly are “we” going? Without the means to defend ourselves....”

“I had something in mind, that’s why I had this brought with me.”[/i:38e2cb25e6]

He hefted a duffel bag onto the gravel strewn road, pulling it open and tossing something to Porter.

The sigh of relief from the Gangrel’s leathery old throat made the others step closer.

Porter cocked the pump action shotgun, before he rifled through the bag, taking every shell he could find. Stuffing them into his pockets.

[i:38e2cb25e6]“Well this is a start.”[/i:38e2cb25e6] He grumbled, shouldering the street howitzer.

The Coterie took their pick from the small selection of firearms before turning to the streets ahead.

A figure ran past them in the darkness, disappearing as quickly as it had come. Porter gave chase, his barrel chest starting to heave as he ran. Quickly losing the shadowy figure in the gloom of late twilight. He stopped, aiming the shotgun ahead as he tried to track the figure’s trail. Then the thought struck him, his chest thundering as his heart pounded.

Why is my heart racing?

---------

“I lost her. It. But there’s something we overlooked....” He pulled the cuff of his shirt back from his wrist. Taking Gabriel’s hand in his, he placed one of the Ventrue’s fingers on his skin.

[i:38e2cb25e6]“I have. A pulse!”[/i:38e2cb25e6]

Porter pulled up the collar of his coat, warding off the chill wind that ten minutes earlier wouldn’t have bothered him. He looked back at the others as Gabriel tried to leave them in some form of order.

[i:778ad1859a]“Herman, Alois? I know you are both confident and competent fighters. But not to sound patronising, the ladies could probably do with the company. Porter and I will scout ahead. All goes well, we’ll rendezvous at the town hall over there, at 12am.”[/i:778ad1859a] He pointed at what resembled a town hall, though the fetid, stained paintwork barely distinguished it from the other buildings.

[i:778ad1859a]“Then?”[/i:778ad1859a] Alois queried.

[i:778ad1859a]“Well hopefully we’ll have some answers for you by then.”[/i:778ad1859a] He nodded at Porter who nodded gruffly before returning his gaze to the dark streets ahead, his eye suddenly wide.

[i:778ad1859a]“Ermmm Gabriel?”

“Sup?”

“What would you call that?”[/i:778ad1859a] He pointed towards something hanging from the gnarled, corpse-like fingery branches of a desiccated tree.

[i:778ad1859a]“I’d call that.....Ewan’s jacket.”

“I feared you’d say that.”[/i:778ad1859a]

Isabella shouted down the street as the Gangrel retrieved the torn scraps of her retainer’s clothing.

Morrag cocked her head as if listening. She spoke breathlessly...

[i:778ad1859a]“Listen. Can you all hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Sounds like....”[/i:778ad1859a]

Porter’s hackles rose. He took a step backwards, closing the gap between him and the others. [i:778ad1859a]“Laughter. Child’s laughter. But something more.”

“Where’s it coming from? This place is deserted.”

“Maybe not, I’ve already chased something down an alleyway.”

“Whatever it is, it came from that side street. Shall we?”

“Sure thing, Ventrue. You lead the way.”[/i:778ad1859a]

They walked slowly, every pair of eyes scanning every shadow. They each shivered, Porter growling softly. Protean or no Protean.

The laughter grew louder, more forced, insistent. Then stopped.

[i:778ad1859a]“Up there!”[/i:778ad1859a] They looked towards the horizon. The silhouette of a child, stark against the blackness.

The laughter started again, a strangely eerie sound that fell on them like spider’s webs. Then the silhouette faded.

[i:778ad1859a]“Okay, tell me you all saw that?”[/i:778ad1859a] Isabella was shaking. She held her face in her hand.

[i:778ad1859a]“This never happened before,”[/i:778ad1859a] Gabriel whispered. [i:778ad1859a]“We’re sticking with the plan. Porter, you go left. I’ll take those buildings to the right. You four, stay together! And stay outside! I don’t want us accidentally shooting you!”

“I’d just like to say, this plan sucks.”[/i:778ad1859a] Porter managed a weak grin before he wrapped his fingers around his gun’s trigger and loped off towards an oddly crooked porch.

((ok.... id lvoe to post but im kinda lost here.... exactly how is 182 coming along?? or was he left behind somewhere in the freak town or....WHAT? help me out here, guys

((I think it's safe to assume that 182 will accompany the small group that includes Isabella and Herman...or he may do whatever he likes...

...although I didn't state it explicitly, I had assumed he was not bound and sort of accompanying them on good faith.