"Im not arguing kay....I know your bored.....but Im in no mood for one of your surprises and Tyler didn't deserve that at all"

Kathy smiled to herself and stifled a laugh, she knew full well tyler would have followed them so she had laced his next feed with liberal amounts of tequila and had watched with glee as the alcohol took effect.

"It's not funny kay" gabriel snarled and looked out of the window as she drove the rented convertible out of the city.

"did I say I was bored? you just presumed, I never said I was bored"

kathy changed down gears as they neared their destination.

"where the hell are we going anyway, I dont see any bright lights around here, thats where you usually head"

Kathy slammed her foot down on the brake and snarled.

"you want out now? well go then its your choice, but have you ever thought that I might just be trying to help you get out of this mess?"

her face was close to his and her eyes flashed viciously.

He looked at her in amazement, this wasn't the kay he knew.

"Im waiting....are you going to shut up and let me show you or not?"

"show me kay.....show me" he said warily wondering what she was up to.

.....................................................................

The freight depot was empty, kay had paid the staff well to be out of their way at the allotted time.
As she led the way walking down the aisles her eyes scanned the many different sized cartons and packages, looking for the correct number.

Gabriel followed her carrying a jemmy that she had taken out of the boot of the car, he had tried to ask what it was for but seeing the look on her face his words had failed him.

"you seem to think that I cant help you at all Gabriel, im not just something to look at you know...I do have brains and know how"

She stopped in front of a large carton.

"open it"

The crate wasn’t the worst thing he’d travelled in. But it was still irritatingly cramped. Even melded with the soil within, the closeness of the container irked him. He knew little of the woman’s intentions, but he knew enough to have been intrigued.

As the day passed he listened to the world outwith the crate.

Engine sounds passed him, he heard foreign voices, some raised, others more subservient. It helped kill time if nothing else.

As the time/hours/moments passed he reached out with tentative tendrils of thought. Finding little he recognised, save for a scattered few insects, he sighed. The crate seemed to heave outwards, sending several warehouse workers running. The sounds of seeming panic amused him somewhat. But not enough to keep him in one place.

He started to seep, to flow out through the miniature gaps in the wood. Coalescing on the concrete floor. The warehouse/hangar was blissfully empty at last. He stretched his arms and legs, yawning almost playfully before scrambling up onto the ceiling of the building. Hanging from the supporting girders and waited.

The woman returned, accompanied by a Nordic figure he recognised only too well. He felt his face crease with a grin as the couple stopped by the crate. The man’s face was perplexed, hers was a criss-cross of underlying irritation. Their voices were those of lovers itching for a dispute.

[i:f040a5aa46]“Open it.”[/i:f040a5aa46] She passed a crowbar to her partner. He looked at her, his mouth open to answer, then closing before she could retaliate.

He cracked the lid from the crate before looking in.

[i:f040a5aa46]“It’s...empty?” [/i:f040a5aa46] He looked back at her.

[i:f040a5aa46]“What do you mean it’s empty?”[/i:f040a5aa46] She almost pushed him aside.

Both pairs of eyes looked at the empty crate, fingers brushed the soil surface as though looking deeper, then looked at each other.

[i:f040a5aa46]“He...it was here! They said it was packed!”[/i:f040a5aa46]

[i:f040a5aa46]“What was Kathy? Who?”[/i:f040a5aa46] Gabriel was even more confused now.

[i:f040a5aa46]Looking for something?[/i:f040a5aa46]

The disembodied voice lured their eyes upwards.

Suspended from a girder hung a nigh-naked male. Long dark hair hanging around his head in rivulets. Gabriel strained to look past the shadows that encapsulated the figure. His keen sight reading something on the garment that covered the speaker’s modesty.

It was written or printed onto a tattered piece of cloth. He silently mouthed the letters creating a word.

[i:f040a5aa46]“Gucci?”[/i:f040a5aa46]

His eyes lit up as the figure dropped to the floor with practiced ease.

[i:f040a5aa46]“Hello Little Seneschal.”[/i:f040a5aa46]

He stuttered in reply...

[i:f040a5aa46]“Porter!?”[/i:f040a5aa46]

[i:f040a5aa46]"You were expecting someone else?"[/i:f040a5aa46]

Porter grinned sardonically. Since his "rebirth" under Sorenti's care, he'd developed a bitingly sarcastic tone. Accentuated by his more predatory, bestial nature.

--------------------------------

Kachuran had returned to the hotel room having noted Thoth’s movements throughout the day. He found his master dressing in a soft blue pinstripe. A predatory gleam in his eyes.

[i:f040a5aa46]“News Kachuran?”[/i:f040a5aa46]

[i:f040a5aa46]“Yes Nun'yunu'wi. I have a number of addresses for you. He made several “drops” before he finally returned to the club.”[/i:f040a5aa46]

He passed his notepad to Calder who merely scanned it and clicked his tongue in contemplation.

[i:f040a5aa46]“Excellent. You can retire from my services this evening Kachuran. I feel a hunt coming on.”[/i:f040a5aa46]

[i:3184dddd52] Iraq, 15 September, 2002, 23:00 Zulu [/i:3184dddd52]

With all the ferocity of a typhoon and all the elegance of a sumo wrestler doing a flamenco dance, the ground forces of The Russian Federation, The United States, The United Kingdom, France ( :roll: ), Canada, Australia, Germany, and Romania thundered across the border into Iraq on multiple fronts at once. Using Blitzkrieg tactics with a speed that the Wehrmacht would have killed for, they sliced through the Iraqi lines and countryside as if on a cross country excursion. They took as many prisoners as humanly possible. This was not a war against the people of Iraq so much as a vendetta against a 21st century Hitler. The Dogs of War galloped across the desert. Within 48 hours they were barking at the gates of Baghdad. Within 60 hours, Baghdad was all but taken. Only a few pockets of resistance remained.

"You were expecting someone else?" The lithe Gangrel growled. His growl these days didn't direct as much intimidation as it had in his younger days, but any fool knew there was just as much to fear from the ancient Kindred as ever...if not more.

"Not really, I called for you nearly two weeks ago, so by your track record you're about right on time." Gabriel relented to play the stern employer, although in truth he was more alone in this primitive wasteland than he had ever been before...and amongst powerful adversaries nonetheless. His Head of Security was a welcome sight.

"Oh come on now Gabriel," the tone in Kay's voice was scornful, she had obviously gone through some degree of trouble to have Porter shipped here, "you need his help! Why can't you blasted Ventrue admit when you've screwed up?"

Porter chuckled at the social conflict of the undead and began disposing of the shipment crate so as not to cause any unwelcome attention by the warehouse staff the next day. It would simply been written off by an error of shipment numbers.

"Why don't we discuss this somewhere a bit more private Kay," he glanced over at the naked muscular form heaving the box into the dumpster outside, "somewhere where we can get him into some clothes."

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

Kathy threw the sleek car into fourth with a bit more aggression than usual, issuing a roar of power into the engine. The sudden acceleration jerked Gabriel's head bag against the seat slightly, and from the sideways glance Kay gave him, it seemed intentional. A growl floated from the backseat as Porter found the confines of both his car and his new clothes stifling.

The Ventrue and Toreador had been arguing most of the ride, and now an uncomfortable silence fell over the car. The combined threat of Eveshka, Julius, and worst of all Lucinde and the Circle of Elders was nearly too much for Gabriel to handle. He had thrown himself in way over his head. Being ashed was one thing, but to be disgraced before your clan and Sire was a terrible sentence.

From the driver's seat, Kathy spoke first.

"I really dont understand gabe why you constantly refuse to let anyone help you know" she said, a bit remorseful. Gabriel glanced an eye in the sideview mirror at Porter, uneasy to have him listening in on their personal affairs.

"Kathy, my affairs are my own, and despite what you may think I am fully capable of dealing with them." The city whizzed by at a blinding speed, the Toreador's blood boiling now. From the back seat, Porter strained at the sleeves of his sports coat.

"Ohh you are, are you? So whats happening with you and Julius? You're not going to tell me that there's nothing going on there are you?" She sounded angry, and for scolded Ventrue seeking a low profile, this was not a good thing. The Gangrel's scruffy face protruded into the front seat at last.

"Not to barge in, but exactly why did I spend two days in a crate, if he doesn't need me?" he asked, glancing at Kathy. Gabriel raised a calming hand.

"Porter, I assure you, whether or not your aid will be required in this 'specific' matter, you will prove invaluable to the safety of Ms. Belvadere and myself."

Suddenly the car's tires screamed as Kathy slammed on the brakes and jerked at the wheel. The convertable slid sideways, great plumes of white smoke erupting from it's wheels. They finally stopped dead center of the two lane road they had been traveling. Car horns erupted as their angry drivers shrieked insults.

Gabriel looked at Kathy, who sat iron jawed, her eyes smoldering with anger.

"Kathy please..." he started.

"I'm not moving till we get this sorted out."

"Listen Kay..."

"No you listen!" she roared, her temper finally unleashed upon the unfortuneate inhabitants of the car. "I offered you my help! I thought it was the right thing to do, OBVIOUSLY it wasn't! What do you want from me Gabriel? Honestly! Do you want me to sit back and watch you kill yourself?!"

Porter rubbed his head, the impact with Gabriel's headrest is apparently never enjoyable. He grumbled...

"Listen kiddies, firstly I want some explanation. I AM Eldest here and your rank means nothing to me Gabriel. So I expect a bit of courtesy, who the hell is Julius? And exactly what have you dragged me in to?"

Now it was Kathy's turn to growl, as her rage shifted from Gabriel to Porter.

"Porter, Eldest or not, keep your mouth shut for two minutes. For the love of Caine..." the Elder Gangrel could have undoubtably reduced the scene to car scraps and ash, but he held his tongue, knowing full well that if there WERE forces to be contended with here that he would need the cooperation of both Gabriel and Kathy.

"I was quiet...for two days in that blasted box." he grumbled, but offered no more.

Gabriel made another, more compromising attempt.

"Kathy...I realize you were attempting to help. And in all honesty... perhaps your choice of action was the appropriate one. But, it's not easy for me..." he choked a bit, his Ventrue blood forbidding his next choice of words, "it's not easy for me to accept help with something that is my fault."

"I know your damned Ventrue ways. But you expect me to sit back and look pretty. Just watch my Lord and Master get out of the jam or get ashed in the process. Don't worry Kathy, you'll be well taken care of!" blood tears welled in her eyes and reduced Gabriel conviction to rubble.

"You're right Kay, Julius and Eveshka are more than I can handle alone."

Porter's ears perked up a bit, a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

"Eve? She's alive? She's here?"

"Yes Porter," Kathy said, "she's here."

"Can I meet her? Where is she? Who's Julius? What the hell is going on?!" the Gangrel was growing more agitated by the minute. He was receiving more questions than answers.

"You'll meet her in due time Porter..." Gabriel said.

With that, Kathy threw the car back into drive and took to the streets. On the ride home Gabriel did a fair bit of explaining to Porter on the events that had occured since his arrival in Cairo. It was a grave situation indeed, but the trio was not be deterred. As they headed towards the nightlife of Cairo, they discussed the best way for the situation to be handled....

Behind the ruins of a dilapdated church, beyond barricaded doors, in a dusty hall littered with plastic cups, broken glass and the memory of vain dreams, Michelle stood motionless. This had been a club once. What was the name? The cat club? No, that did not seem right. But the owner of this club had owned a cat. Misha? Measha? Something like that. She could not quite remember. What was the owner's name? Evelyn? Eve?

She had struggled to remember the names during her journey too England. She was drawn to York by memories of kindred who were kind to her there. As kind as kindred could be anyway. But in York she had not found what she was looking for. The places she went, the bank, the mansion, the house in the country, and now, this club, were as berefit of kindred presence as kindred were bereft of breath - it was something that had once been there, but was no gone.

Michelle's heart sank. She felt so....lonely. She had had something here, with these kindred, and it tore at her to think it was all gone now, wiped away. But this was the way of kindred.

Where had they all gone she wondered? Were they destroyed? What happened to us?

She walked the empty halls and rooms of the once sumptuous club. This had been the scene of so many debaucheries, of which Michelle had played the central figure in many. Now, it was nothing but a dagger through her hopes. What was the point in waking?

And that thought brought another question - how had she awoken? And just as importantly - when had she gone into torpor? Where? She shook her head in frustration. Why couldn't she remember?

She needed to find those that she had known. Find them and fill in the gaps in her memory. The need to solidfy the memory was almost a desperate one. She knew she had been close to the owner of this club. Perhaps that was who she should seek out first.

As she pondered her plight a voice, male, smooth, inquisitive yet confident came to her out of the darkness...

"St. Claire?" it asked. "Is that really you St. Claire?"

Michelle thought about it for a moment, feeling no danger though she probably should have. She remembered now, Du Claire was an older name she had used, not as old as others she had hidden under, but not current either. Michelle St. Claire, was the name she had used here - it had been more....American?

She looked up into the dark and saw nothing where the voice had come from, so she looked again, this time with all her faculties...

There, in the darkness, a safe distance away, crouched behind a pillar was the scarred, deformed face of a nosferatu. A familiar nosferatu.

She whispered in to the gloom - "Hello D'arcson"

((lol rib reunion

Eveshka slid up to the crater that was the remains of the Tabernacle wearing her usual skin tight black spandex, but this time she wore a Cloak of Shadows over it. No moon shone at all. Only her heightened senses enabled her to negotiate the bomb blasted ground. She blended in perfectly with the sand as she moved noiselessly down to the rubble that was once a grand archway. Eve searched for several minutes until she found it. The keystone to the arch. Gingerly turning it over she looked at it. The Sumerian figure was still visible, though it was a bit damaged. Eve broughtr out a sheet of paper and a wax crayon. She stretched it over the image and made a rubbing of it. After she was satisfied that all the important information was recorded on the paper she drew a blade. Activating blood strength and potence she destroyed the image on the stone. The noise was a bit too loud however. She had revealed her presence.

She pinned herself against a sand dune and lay motionless allowing the Cloak to conceal her. From the looks of their auras, several weak Cainites were moving in her direction. They looked unusual though. They had the veins of Diablerists but there was something very different about them. If she had to bet, she would say they were Assamite, sort of. Could these be the Thothists? They stopped a few yards from her.
"You can come out now," said one of them in heavily accented English. He was not looking in her direction.

"We know you are here."

This time however one of them looked right at her and nodded with his head towards her. Eve put her hands to her Dread Rapier and Main Gauche. The "Assamite" stopped and salamed.

"We yield to your skill, Excellency," said the closest one. "You don't need the Cloak."

Eveshka decided to throw caution to the wind and see what happened. She pulled off the cloak revealing herself. The other vampires jumped as she appeared. They plainly had not seen her, only the one had.

"We know who you are Comtesse, and offer no belligerence towards you. We know that you were not responsible for this... this travesty."

Eveshka merely nodded.

"Take your rubbing and go in peace," said the lead "Assamite" bowing lowly and sincerely. "May our paths meet again under more enlightening circumstances."

With that, they did a sweep of the ruins to be sure that nothing else was disturbed and they disappeared into the darkness.

Eveshka went off into the desert and then ran at lightning speed back to the limits of Cairo where she got into a waiting car and drove back to her haven.

[b:3295b1aa8d]Dawn, A boat, heading towards undisclosed destination in the Black Sea, its position known only to the vessel's captain, Morathi and Julius via scrambled GPS beacon....[/b:3295b1aa8d]

The two thousand & six hundred tons of the 75m long Former-Russian research ship 'Akademik Ekaterina' was slowly moving out of the harbour it had been rusting in relative inactivity for the past year. Through a local company that Darrant Industries owned, Willow Ducheski had chartered the ship complete with its crew and on-board laboratory equipment for a research project that was officially to be supervised by the intrigued singer Lucilla Troy who represented the archaeological charity officially financing the venture to seek a centries old lost ship that had eluded several prior searches and the respected underwater archaeologist Sheridan Mooreland that Lucilla Troy had appealed to for his specialist assistance in managing such an enterprise on her behalf.

In truth Morathi's appeal was a substantial financial investment in the underfunded project she had borrowed Mooreland from that only a fool or cautious individual would have passed up, reinforced with the subtle influence of Morathi's use of presence. Not enough to impair his expertise but certainly enough to quell any doubts and encourage him to strive to impress her with his understanding of his specialised field of study. An understanding Morathi was absorbing with great interest to enable her to fulfill her true mission. Admittedly she could have dominated him for his devoted aid instead of using the more subtle path of manipulating less predictable things such as emotions, but domination tended to impair an individual's creativity and adaptability and Morathi wanted to preserve those traits in Mooreland at least until they helped her find what she sought.

The going rate for chartering the aging research vessel was $2,500 a day, and as long as the people footing the bill did not actually endanger the ship the russian captain and his thinly streched crew would let them carry out whatever kind of research they liked no questions asked as to why it was being done, concentrating on keeping the boat working and earn their pay. The price was inclusive of the wages for the skeleton crew of seven that the russian captain could afford for the ship in its underused status, food, fuel, and laboratory consumables. To charter an equivalent vessel from the United States would run from $12,000 to $16,000 a day and there would be far more official questions asked, all in all Willow Ducheski had found quite a bargain for her mistress, inexpensive, low key and entirely expendable if need be...

[img:3295b1aa8d]http://www.wtec.org/loyola/subseafe/fh2_1.gif[/img:3295b1aa8d] [img:3295b1aa8d]http://www.wtec.org/loyola/subseafe/fh2_10.gif[/img:3295b1aa8d]

Fighting off her natural drowsiness at being awake during daylight Morathi was on deck watching as Mooreland familiarised himself with the inventory of the crated equipment Willow had provided and introduced himself to the six research assistants that had come on board with Lucilla Troy to serve as his staff who would assist him in unpacking the equipment and preparing it for use. Hopefully once they were at sea and with pluasible reasons, Ms Lucilla Troy could phase herself into a more comfortable nocturnal existance but until then it would not hurt to be seen about during the daytime time to time. The mixed group of men and women Mooreland was talking to had in truth been selected by Willow from her own extended Ducheski family. The authority of a Pontifex such as Julius being adequate for the deployment of so many rare Ducheski Revenants for this project.

The revenants had been briefed to assist Morathi in keeping Mooreland and the russian crew in the dark as to the true nature of the research, as despite being immune to sunlight's harmful effects and able to be active to a limited degree during daytime, Morathi was still a vampire and could only fend off fatigue during the day for so long before needing rest, thus she could not be available 24/7 whilst the boat constantly surveyed the many potential sites for their objective. With the ship's diminished crew, the revenants would at the same time provide the skills and technical expertise to actually make the true search work, their bloodline being famed for its almost magical mastery of technology and invention that adapting the ship's existing equipment to work with the contents of the crates would prove no challenge at all. In extremis the revenants could also provide Morathi with tactical support on the boat if required.

Noticing that Mooreland was done briefing 'His' staff, Morathi muffled an inadvertant yawn, replacing it with a shy embarassed smile as she moved closer to talk to him....

[i:3295b1aa8d]"Guess I'm still a little jetlagged from travelling from Cairo to collect you from Istanbul in time to bring you here in time for our sailing Dr Sheridan. The planning for the trip was pulled together at the last minute to take advantage of the open window in the weather after all... I think I'll retire to my quarters for a nap and then maybe pick your brains over dinner tonight on how to find that missing ship..."[/i:3295b1aa8d]

Morathi's emerald eyes glinted playfully as she gently used more presence to entrance the doctor even more before retiring for the day to rest, they still had to reach their first survey site and the revenants would need time to set up the hardware they would be using, she could afford to rest for now.

Comfortable in her room, she hoped Willow was faring just as well with her part of the project as she allowed herself to rest, the wraith within watching over its host protectively as it rested...

------------------------------
[b:3295b1aa8d]Meanwhile at the London offices of Darrant Industries R&D Division[/b:3295b1aa8d]

Dressed in a well-cut but instantly forgetable black executive suit, Willow Ducheski nervously stepped out of her taxi from Heathrow Airport to make her way through the early-morning sea of executives on their way to their respective jobs. She was unused to being among so many people at once and was fighting off an urge to just flee and seek solitude if such a thing was possible to find in the business districts of London during a working day. But she could not fail her mistress now, focussing on the doors to the Darrant industries building, she did her best to fend off her feelings of clustrophobia as she made her way through the crush of humanity moving about her, a living sea of people that interacting with terrified her.

Finally to her intense relief, Willow managed to make it to the doors, the rotating entranceway providing her with a small pocket of personal space that opened out into the less populated lobby of the London branch of Darrant Industies R&D. Making her way over to the reception desk, Willow took her letter of introduction from the slim case she was carrying, it had been written by Morathi but had been signed by Julius when Morathi had reported to him.

[i:3295b1aa8d]"Ummm Hello.... I'm here to head up a special project team... I think this should cover it..."[/i:3295b1aa8d]

Willow nervously handed over her letter, unused to being in a position of authority and away from the familiar and comforting surroundings of her laboratory in Orleans. The man on the desk quickly scanned the letter, typed briefly on his console to confirm its contents then satisfied handed the letter back to the skittish and shy Revenant.

[i:3295b1aa8d]"Ah yes Miss Willow Ducheski we have been expecting you, take this ID card and swipe it in the reader in the lift, it will take you to the appropriate floor... I'm sure you will be a welcome addition to the Darrant industries Research and Development family..."[/i:3295b1aa8d]

Something in the way 'Family' was said caught Willow's attention, she studied the man on the desk closely, realisation starting to sink in...

She was truely amongst family, english cousins of her own branch of the Ducheski family to be exact, gathered in a place that would allow them to explore their inventiveness to its fullest potential, perhaps it would not be so bad working here after all...

_____________________________
[i:3295b1aa8d]((The type of boat I am refering to in this post does actually exist although the undercrewed 'Akademik Ekaterina' is entirely my own creation. The class I have selected is actually a fairly small example of those available in the research fleet the russians still have and hopefully it is too small to attract attention but large enough to realisticly carry out its task. The Russians do now allow private investors to borrow their research boats time to time, some such as the substantially larger research vessel, the 'Akademik Keldysh' have even appeared in Films such as the modern sequences of 'Titanic' and was later was hired again by part of the same production team for 'Virus'.

The Russian scientific director in charge of the Keldysh, Dr. Anatoly Sagalevitch, initially disdained such a frivolous use his research vessel. However, the collapse of the Soviet Union had made money scarce and Sagalevitch welcomed the opportunity to bring in American dollars. and I'm thinking the captain of the 'Akademik Ekaterina' would be just as eager to earn hard currency

Michelle's return should certainly make things interesting for Mora if she finds out about it :D ))[/i:3295b1aa8d]

((um... wow))

((just more confusion for Gabe lol

"This is who now? Ah, someone who can smite me! Nice to meetcha!" lol :)

P.S. Michelle.....are you Steve? You don't seem to be, but I distinctly remember Steve playing Michelle St. Claire...at least for a time

Julius wasn't at the hotel that Eve and he had been using as a shared haven, so Eveshka headed for the museum chantry.

In a room set up something like a firing range, a few petrified apprentices were setting cans upon a small wall of bricks and Julius was shooting them down. The apprentices weren't so much worried by him missing and hitting them, but rather by the size of the weaponry he used and that they might get caught in the back blast.

As Eveshka walked in, a ball of lightning crackled and fizzed it's way down the range, taking out not only most of the cans, but a small part of the wall upon which they were placed. Julius glowered at the apprentices, who hastily replaced both the damaged bricks and a fresh set of cans. Eveshka quietly took a seat at the back of the room, whilst Julius pointed at the cans. Each time he pointed, a lance of fire left his index finger to hit one of the cans square on and each time Julius' face contorted, as though he were imagining some dread enemy's demise.

Finally, frustrated even with the apprentices, gingerly replacing cans for him to detonate, disintegrate, or otherwise destroy in some nasty kind of way, he gestured to the wall and cans simply appeared. They didn't last long, sonic booms sent down the range not only had the apprentices running for their lives, clutching their pained ears, but also crushed the cans into so much scrap metal. Again, with a wave of Julius' hand the cans reappeared, this time to be destroyed with a storm of ice shards, falling from the ceiling, spearing through and splintering the waiting metal.

Another wave of his hand and another line of cans upon the wall. This time Julius drew upon the darker powers at his command, a great ball of darkness sped down the room, sickly brown and yellow lines curling and writhing upon it's surface, seeming to suck in the light from the room. As it impacted upon the wall at the end, there was a sickening noise, like the sound of life and goodness being destroyed by it's opposite. Where the ball of decay hit the wall, it crumbled to dust, the cans little more than rust coloured stains on the floor. Where the ball hadn't hit a single can remained on a shaky couple of bricks. Julius glowered and prepared to deal magical death upon it, yet from the rear a simple firebolt arced past Julius, barley missing his head, to remove the remaining can from it's precarious perch.

"I think the can army is defeated, Pontifex. The world is safe once again." Said Eveshka in her sweetest voice. Julius whirled on his heels and narrowed his eyes. "Feeling better?" She asked "Or do you need to blow shit up some more?"

"It never hurts to exercise one's skills, Comtesse." Replied Julius.

"Of course, Pontifex. I quite understand." Replied Eveshka, with a florid bow. "And now, if you've finished your... exercises, perhaps we could talk in private?"

"My pleasure, Comtesse, please come this way."

The couple adjourned to Julius' office. "Julius, blowing up tin cans isn't going to help anything, you know." Began Eve. "Did it even improve your mood?"

Julius shrugged. "Not really, maybe I should take out what's left of the Giza plateau."

Eveshka raised an eyebrow. "Save me from Tremere with itchy trigger fingers!" She exclaimed with mock exasperation.

"Yes, one enormous fire... no wait... how about raising a huge volcano and taking out the whole of Giza and then Cairo." Julius smiled at the thought. "I could blame it all on Gabriel!" He exclaimed merrily. "Think of it.. the first they would know is when lava spews out of the top of Cheop's pyramid!"

"Julius!" Snapped Eveshka.

"All right, already!" Answered Julius. "Look. We just need to know what's going on with this dig that Gabriel exploded then we can leave this horrible country and go somewhere more civilised."

"Actually," replied Eve, "I've already covered that. Take a look at this."

Julius examined the rubbing. "Hmm... back to our friend Gilgamesh. This is Sumerian. Let's go to Turkey."

Eveshka pulled the face that Julius recognised as "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I sent Morathi on ahead, love. She's got a research ship in the black sea, looking for Enoch and Iraq seems like a somewhat unhealthy place to be just at the moment."

"Turkey then." Said Eveshka. "Right." She frowned. "Isn't that where Abetorius has his centre of operations?"

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire is it?" He shrugged "I can't see him trying anything again so soon, though we'll avoid Istanbul, just to be on the safe side."

Eveshka nodded. "You better start packing then. I'll let you know when I'm ready to go."

Kathy pulled the sleek car into the car park of the hotel and turned the engine off.
Gabriel sat stern faced, his eyes looking straight ahead. Kathy knew she had offended him deeply, he never wanted other people to know his private business, and for this she was going to suffer his silence no doubt.

"Look, all I want is somewhere to rest and to get out of these damned clothes" porter growled from the back seat.

Kathy turned round in her seat and kneeled up on it and looked at porter, he never changed, his face still looked young but there was an aged worn quality about it and a hint of sadness too.

"well I think I at least owe you a night out, after all its my doing that brought you here, the least I can do is treat you.....Ive heard of a nice club, not too busy , and very select, Im sure you will like it.......if you don't we will leave, I give you my promise"

Porter looked at her and gave a rare smile, " you are very insistent kathy, I give you full marks for trying, but perhaps......"

He nodded in the direction of Gabriel " you have things to discuss tonight.....do you not think?"

gabriel's look remained impassive, his face not giving any emotion away at all.

" Gabriel would love to join us wouldn't you ?"

Kathy reached across and slid her tiny hand into his and squeezed his hand softly.

"I wouldn't dream of going without him"

((Nice post Kay :) I'll reply today I swear :) Though how Porter will feel in a nightclub I dunno lol :?

((hello all, yes, I am back from RIB limbo - sort of. And to the question up post - "Am I Steve" - um - NO! LOL My RL name is Mikayla Connell. I have never been Steve! As those of you familiar with RIB may remember Michelle St. Claire (aks Du Claire, aka Kemintiri) came on scene at the behest of Eve and in short order became Prince(ess) of York etc etc. Um, if anyone named "Steve" ever played her, well, I have to say, I am little mad that someone tried to usurp my character! But, no matter, I am back. Anyway, I will post more IC shortly - but for the moment, work calls - as some of you may remember, I am bloodsucking lawyer in RL too... lol))

He leaned against the bar, mentally steering curious Kine away, forcing them to forfeit their natural attraction to his presense. Cocking his head slightly, Gabriel watched as the flamboyant Toreador wriggled and writhed in a wreath of human men, each wearing an identical look of lust and obsession. Kathy however, merely smiled and kept her eyes on Gabriel.

Several hundred years of unlife had taught her much, and she moved with every bit of grace and beauty that would be expected of a Toreador. Her intoxicating curves called to him, and even with his realization that they were partly due to her vampiric nature, he struggled to resist the temptation to join her. As he watched her, she motioned for him to join her.

Gabriel merely raised his glass of bourbon and smiled. The Toreador glowered slightly and went back to dancing, someone more aggressively.

[i:ffd74024bb]"It's obvious who wear the trousers..."[/i:ffd74024bb] Porter's raspy voice grumbled from next to Gabriel. He looked no more comfortable in the club than he had in the car. Gabriel, for his part, said nothing but merely stared a bit harder at Kay's dance partners.

He focused on a slightly rougher looking gentlemen, and within an instant was reading his base instincts. An overlaying blanket of lust coating his emotions, a tinge of incoherrance from the alcohol was present, but where was the...ah yes....the jealousy. The dancer was clearly not completely happy to be sharing such a captivating prize with four other men.

The Ventrue smiled and centered his energies in on increasing that particular emotion. His grin widened and the youth looked increasingly less content. The catalyst came as one of Kay's other dance partners casually bumped into him, sending the boy into a flurry of roars and loosely thrown punches.

Within seconds, Kathy's dance partners were sprawled out across the floor, gnashing and clawing at one another. Gabriel could do little but laugh as Kathy looked on in surprise. As the five men were ejected from the club courtesy of three hefty bouncers, Kathy joined Porter and Gabriel back at the bar.

"Very subtle Gabriel." she sneered with disdain. He turned and faced the bar, ordering a second bourbon. It was poor quality, and really wasn't worth the exponging process that would be required later, but he was bored and had little else to do.

"You seemed a bit bored Kay, was I out of line?" Gabriel said, his voice laiden with a bit more sarcasm than was necessary.

"You knew damn well what you were doing." she said, but even beneath her mask of anger, Gabriel could see she found the situtation amusing. He edged his way closer to her, slipping a probing hand down the small of her back and overly her perfectly shaped buttocks.

"Allow me to make it up to you then...." he said and gave her a slight squeeze. Kathy didn't react, save a slight smile on her crimson lips.

"Gabriel." Porter interjected. Gabriel glanced over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Your uh....there's a...noise coming from your jacket." the Gangrel motioned towards Gabriel's inner breast pocket. His exemplerary hearing had picked up the Ventrue's ringing cell phone, even amidst the dance music and roar of the crowd.

"Incredible. Thank you Porter." Gabriel pulled the cell phone out and saw Tyler's number flashing across the screen. "If you two will excuse me for one moment."

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

"Istanbul? Are you positive Tyler?" Gabriel was mildly surprised. Julius had not mentioned anything of an upcoming trip to him the previous night. Not that he had reason to, but still he mentioned nothing of being unavailable within the coming nights. It had to have meant they had found something.

"Well, like I said, the connection's a bit shoddy." the remark brought a grin to Gabriel's face. The sight of Tyler in the uniform of a phoneline repairman had been too much. Watching him scale the telephone lines outside of the chantry had been nearly overwhelming. But the bug had been put in place and even for it's poor connections had served it's purpose. "But there's been broken mention of Istanbul all night."

"Alright, well keep listening and see if you can't find out what's of interest in Istanbul. I need some sort of blasted idea of where to turn next.." The club was slowly beginning to empty out, and soon the radiant face of Kathy emerged on the street, followed closely by the glowering face of Porter.

"Shall I book you a flight out?" Tyler asked.

"No Tyler, I've no clue what they're going out there for. For all I know it could be a social call." His thoughts turned to the sword, "Besides, I have bigger fish to fry here."

((maybe it's a different character Michelle. Steve played the character as a somewhat sadistic Toreador painter. she was exeptionally cruel to ghouls...that's really all i remember about her. lets see, Steve also played the Lasombra Vincent Montague and ummm....i can't remember who else.