"Yes, you could say I have a master of sorts." An officer ordering him to things was pretty much a master, except generally Locke chose whether to follow those orders. He hadn't seen a reason not to, as his orders were just and noble. Greg led him to a tall male and a woman with considerable assets, and seeing how the woman seemed to be questioning the man about Lyla, Locke assumed this was Greg's master. However, before he could even say anything about the matter, another man interrupted the conversation. Really, it seemed nothing could go the way Locke expected.

"Would like join eating prime rib? Lyla is little girl who gets lost. After food, I find her. Come if like, or stay with Greg."

Eating food while a young girl was out on the streets, who could possibly be kidnapped at any moment, seemed idiotic to Locke, though the British hadn't really shown much wit to begin with. But that woman and Greg seemed to be his best bet at finding Lyla, and possibly answers to that branding of hers, seeing how they knew her best.

"I graciously accept your invitation.. Madame."

Locke entered the Cabaret Voltaire, only to find there was a slave bidding of sorts. The British did indeed love their slaves, despite their so called civilized society. And they were bidding on... Ms.Lyla. How the girl got herself into this predicament would have to be a question for later. Locke would have to act before money exchanged hands, as money seemed to be another thing the British obsessed over, and fighting them over it was something he wanted to avoid.

"I hate to interrupt your bidding war, but that girl up there is not yours to sell."

Thomas peered into the darkness before standing up slowly. “And pray tell why that is the case? She is infact on stage is she not? And unless I am mistaken she will be receiving a cut of her bid. To be honest I do believe I am doing her a favor. Since that is quite a sum for a single night.” Thomas peered at the person who had spoken up. It would appear to be a human; this ought to be rather easy. “Who exactly are you to make such a claim?” The room had gone silent as the patrons had recognized the crest. His family's loyalty to the crown was unquestioning and his name carried weight. As if the title were not enough Thomas was hardly anything less than an imposing person standing at well over six foot and still sporting the build of a crusader of old. “You’ll excuse me if I dispute it as I have put a rather large sum of money up for my evening; so please. Settle down.” There was a sense of finality to Thomas’ statement; his tone and posture allowing for no argument.

Willamar “Will” Shriver | 8:15PM | London Pub

-Bloody Good Bar- Event
@lovely complex

One moment holding his glass of brandy, eyes scanning the contents of one of the papers set out before him…the next, pushing his chair back from the broken table, and the man who had crashed through it. Coming closer to check on the man, it seemed apparent that he was alright. Unconscious, coughing up blood and teeth onto one of the papers (dammit), but alright enough.

Brows rising slowly at seeing the small posse of men approach, Will stooped a moment to grab the papers where they had thankfully not scattered too wildly, and held a hand up as he folded them, stowing them away in his jacket pocket, “Stop, I have no quarrel with you.” That worked to stop them for only a lone second, seeing him calm and speaking clearly, but they advanced all the same. He, on the other hand, had taken a quick sidelong glance.

The barman wasn’t at his place before the counter…drats, the man always took care of his business. Eyes back to focusing on the group, seeing as there was some distance between them; Willamar took the moment to duck along the side and behind the counter. Ah, there he was…the barman was unconscious on the ground, broken bottle by his head. Taking a moment to check and make sure the man was alright...all the same, the man wasn’t certain how the man would feel about having his firearms handled by even the most civil of patrons. Then again, his blooming headache was killing him.

Standing up behind the counter, Willamar held up the barman’s scattergun up over his head with one hand, really feeling its weight before cupping his free hand to the side of his mouth. Speaking with a loud, clear, and very stern voice that commanded attention, “Take it outside.” One of the disgruntled patrons took a step closer, and with a swift motion, the rifle was pointed his way, cool eyes not even locking onto him, “Now.”

---

From the shadows of the stage, a familiar black figure steps forward. Lyla hears "them" approach, yet at the first sight of this thing, she faints right into their arms, collapsing from anxiety. No facial features can be made out in their heavy garb, and the foul stench of long dead corpses radiates their body. The host, startled, leaps backwards, a look of dread and perplexity on his face. "Hey! Get off the stage! You're not allowed up here!" the owner cries.

The Wraith takes one look at him, pulls an asymmetrical dagger from their cloak, and shoves it into the host's throat. The man clutches at his throat, blood squirting out from his carotid artery. He falls from the stage, and the audience panics, screams echoing through the hall. People start to flee, terrified by the appearance of this creature.

"250 pounds, my sweet Sir Craven? Don't make me laugh. This girl is priceless, considering what she is." the assassin called out, holding Lyla with one arm. A courtesan tries to be a hero, rushing the black garbed person with a broken beer bottle. With uncanny reflexes, the Wraith counters and twists her arm all the way around, completing severing it from the poor lady's shoulder. The would be savior collapses, bleeding out on the stage. "What... are you...?" the dying courtesan asks.

Tossing the severed arm onto her quickly fading body, the unidentifiable person laughs giddily. "A monster, of course."

The assassin stares at Lyla, running a single finger across her delicate face. "She is lovely, isn't she? So yummy and scrumptious..." A long tongue unfurls from the shrouded hood, winding down and caressing her ear lobe. "How wonderful she tastes... Like chocolate and nutmeg." its whispery, androgynous voice purrs. A moment later, the Wraith throws down a tiny, glass ball. An eruption of smoke fills the stage, and the creature starts to make its getaway, moving supernaturally fast out the back door.

As chaos reigns, the screams of the fleeing people of Cabaret Voltaire can be heard for miles. (@Major Ursa)

---

As Lorenzo and his posse enter the dreary asylum, there is a sudden feeling that something isn't right. It's as if someone or something is watching them. The dhampir and his group only make it to the first cell block before an arrow flies overhead.

"Stay away from my territory." a female voice rings out, yet the woman is unseen in the darkness of the asylum. On both sides of the group, banging against the metal doors can be heard. The cries of the insane rise up, shouting at the vampires outside their cells. A young, lightly tanned woman, perhaps 16, saunters up to Lorenzo's gang before stopping at a safe distance. The raven haired lady wears torn clothing, as if she has seen many a battle. At her side, a curved scimitar waits to be drawn. She raises her bow, a glinting arrow poised to strike.

"Leave! I know why you're here. These are my people though. I will not let you harm them."

[Feel free to interact with her however you please.]

---

Before Elizabeth knows it, screams can be heard outside her coach. People are yelling something about a monster in the Red Light District. The driver has trouble controlling the horses, who are spooked by the sudden swarms of people and loud noises. Taking off on a bumpy ride, the side of Elizabeth's carriage smacks into the side of building. The driver is thrown off, and suddenly the coach now without a pilot. Innocent civilians are trampled by the terrified horses, their hooves crashing down wildly. The vampiress doesn't get a chance to jump to safety as the carriage flips onto its side when the horses take a turn much too sharply.

A troupe of good Samaritans see the crash and quickly rush to assist the woman inside. While Elizabeth is able to help herself out before this ensemble of merry looking gentlemen get to her, one covers with a warm, wool blanket. "Miss, are you okay?" a brunette man asks. The other few merely stare at her, one in particular studying her very hard. A moment later, the studious one steps forward. "Wait. Gentlemen, I've seen her... She's a Grangel! She's not supposed to be in these parts. Get her!" the man shouts.

The man in charge of this party was average height and bald, yet he carried a fierce aura of leadership. While it wasn't stated, it was fairly obvious this man was also a Guardian. His band of merry gentlemen suddenly turned into quite a mob. Advancing on Elizabeth, one stated "Francois will be happy to have the bitch."

[Use your guile and cunning, Elizabeth, for there shall be a manhunt!]

The Chase

The door, the Wraith's back, several patrons and the door frame all took several four inch long needles. The motion had been blindingly fast from Sir Craven, as the shock and panic started to set in he vaulted the table in front of him and barreled through the smoke and out the back door. You won’t escape so easily; who do you take me for? With another bound Thomas launched himself over the other patrons. The door splintered when his shoulder hit it at top speed and he continued his momentum up part of a wall. The brief wall run let him bypass the squatters in the back alley; though he doubted if they noticed.

The stench of corpse was still strong and he could hear the fucker; the training was finally paying off. All the years in the middle east, the orient. Years and years with secret sects learning rampantly, studying, consuming all the knowledge they had to offer. Finally a test. Tucking the cain under his left arm close to his body Thomas ran like a shadow on the moon. The wind whipping through his hair as he ran Thomas smiled. There was no reason to be chasing her but his curiosity had been piqued by the girl. Was was this creature after her? What did he mean priceless? Blood pounding in his ears the call of a knight in shining armor resounded in his head again. This was an odd feeling to have again.

With a flick Thomas unclasped his cloak and let it drop behind him into the night. Time to hunt.

@Viciousmarrow

Vikas watches the woman (lyla) as the two men argue he gives a heavy eye roll and softly makes his way toward the stage. His plan was to tell her to run. That he would meet up with her and help her, but she just had to run. He pickpockets one of te patrons that aren't paying attention this one paying off far more then the woman from earlier. His plan seemed quite solid.

That is...until the chaos started. The woman faints into a monster (whom he can tell is a vampire) and starts his large chaotic mess. He can't help but groan, now he has to rush about to his hide away to get his stuff and try to save her. Great. When the smoke fills the room he runs...making it seem as if he vanished. As he goes a knife in his ring shoots out as he stabs a alley squatter in the neck, gulping blood quickly he drains the man and drops the body, probably easy for anyone else to find but with the three other scents coming through who knows what they would think. He then proceeds in leaping onto a roof top. He can smell all three scents and follows the cinnamon one.

As he runs on rooftops with ease he stops at one rather abo denied looking house swinging into it through a window. He grabs a hooded cloak, his armor, crossbow, braces with knives, a belt with crossbow bolts for that self reloading crossbow, and some self made bombs. He had made all of this himself finding that others cannot make anything close. With a nod he pulls up his hood and swings back through the window, his coat left in a box and covered with strongly scented materials. His cloak covering his face as he runs back along rooftops, still quite fast all things considering.

He is unsure of which would be more dangerous, the monster he was following or the noble that had bid on the woman. Either way he would find out. He also can't help but wonder if those he left in there..but he was busy with this. His daggers still tucked hidden away, causing him to be armed to the t.

@Themerlinhawk@Viciousmarrow

@Akai no Senshi
Her vision moved away from the boy and to a new figure that entered the Pharmacy. The female who looked fourteen but had eyes of a ruthless killer. Her aura was a combination of dark pink and cloudy blue, revealing she still had a lot of growing up to do, but also that her desire for control was and always has been her security blanket.

Unveiling a deadly soldier's pike, the tiny girl began threatening her customer, "Hey! Boy! You have something of mine!"

Oh this won't do.

Snapping back to the physical realm, Madame Fortworth covered the jar of red powder and sighed. With her grace and dignity, she slunk into the other room and crept behind the Loli vampire. Mirela went beside the girl and pressed downward in her clavicle causing a striking pain to run through the girl's body, who immediately dropped to her knees, "Observation is key. You still have a lot to learn, Igraine."

Afterwards, she tapped at two nerve points on her back causing the girl to enter a state of paralysis. She wouldn't be able to speak or move, but she could see what was going on around her.

Madame Fortworth took the pike out of the girl's frozen grip and put it to the side, "Don't worry. You'll get that back soon enough."

She turned her attention to the boy, not forgetting he had a dangerous weapon on his person, "Looks like your package attracts Grangrels." Walking away from Igraine, she cautiously approached the boy, "You have a few options. Shoot me, her, draw attention to this shop, brand yourself as a murderer, and have enemies that surpass you in every way, shape, and form." She laid her hand out for him to give her the pistol, "Another option you have is running away. But know this... you won't get very far." Her eyes glanced passed him to reveal a tall figure waiting in the darkness of the back room, "Or, the best option in my opinion, you can trust me, do exactly as I say, and I promise you, you will leave this place with exactly what you want." Her stormy eyes locked into his as she gave him a reason to accept her offer.

Smiling, Mirela revealed who she was,"I am Madame Fortworth. You and me, boy. We're not so different. You're an exceptional human, and I am too."

Not waiting for a response, she blew a strange, neon green powder into his face. The tall, mysterious figure approached Igraine, the candlelight revealing the face of Marc Ravnos. He loomed over the tiny vampire for a moment before lancing a finger at her temple.
[Both of your characters should be unconscious now.]

---

The two captives wake up in a clean, modestly lit cell. They stand across from each other, tied to a separate pole. Augustus is bound with rope, while Igraine is held by thick chains. Ravnos sits before them in a chair, reading a huge grimoire. At his feet lie Igraine's pike and Augustus' pistol.

Igraine slowly blinked awake, but the moment she realized that she had been shackled, she instinctively struggled against her chains, causing quite a loud rattle. Igraine quickly realized that it was a futile attempt and looked around the room. The first thing to capture her attention was the powerful aura that reclined in front of her, a force on par with her father. She wondered if she was face-to-face with an Elder; after all, no human could have such an aura. Igraine also wondered if these were her last moments on Earth. The next thing she noticed was her pike at the man's feet. Turning, she could see the boy who she believes stole her coca; which in turn makes her notice that she cannot see the coca in this room, though she attempts to confirm its presence with her nose, though she first catches Ravnos' scent. The man smelled of waterfall mist, but instead of thinking of the gentle softness of dew suspended in air, Igraine thought instead of the rumbling power of the waterfall behind the mist, an endless cascading roar that cracked rocks, dashed bones, and cleaved mountains.

Looking at Elder Ravnos, Igraine attempts a smile and tries to play coy, if he wanted to kill her, he probably would have done so already. "It appears that I am at a disadvantage, my Lord," Igraine said, referring to the fact that she was tied up as well as to the fact that she had no idea who he was, though he likely knew who she was, considering what Madame Fortworth had said earlier. "The madame out front told me I'd be getting that back soon," Igraine motioned to her pike with her chin.

Elizabeth Parks

Elizabeth looked at the men in front of her, feigning innocence.
"Please...I'm running away. It's Amaury..." She begs, staring st them through bated lashes as tears begin to fall. She collapses to her knees in front of them.
"He...beats me." She explains, reaching into her stockings and pulling out her long knife, suddenly spinning out behind the men, severing their hamstrings and inhumanly soaring up to the nearest rooftop, dashing towards the red light district, hoping to lose the guardian. At least she had a lead now. But the man would have her scent. She flew from roof to roof, not looking behind her. Suddenly, she slammed into something, sending her skidding across the rooftop. It was a man, cloaked in black. What the hell? She smelt a rotting smell, attributing it to the Wraith. Were they near too? Yes, she could see a shadow fleeing to her left, a slight... cinnamon smell coming from within the corpse-like aroma. Another man was not far behind, also cloaked. And then, she could see the Guardian gliding across the rooftops from where she had came. Well fuck.
@BlackPanther@Themerlinhawk@Viciousmarrow

As Lorenzo and his posse enter the dreary asylum, there is a sudden feeling that something isn't right. It's as if someone or something is watching them. The dhampir and his group only make it to the first cell block before an arrow flies overhead.

"Stay away from my territory." a female voice rings out, yet the woman is unseen in the darkness of the asylum. On both sides of the group, banging against the metal doors can be heard. The cries of the insane rise up, shouting at the vampires outside their cells. A young, lightly tanned woman, perhaps 16, saunters up to Lorenzo's gang before stopping at a safe distance. The raven haired lady wears torn clothing, as if she has seen many a battle. At her side, a curved scimitar waits to be drawn. She raises her bow, a glinting arrow poised to strike.

"Leave! I know why you're here. These are my people though. I will not let you harm them."

Lorenzo was surprised when he saw the arrow fly past him, it was expertly shot that much was obvious. Lorenzo looked around as the insane ones started to bang against their cells and his posse was getting nervous even vampires could be scared by the insane humans ready to kill them at a moments notice. When the young woman warned them to leave he motioned his allies to stay calm and still. This woman has obviously seen battle with her bow and sword however Lorenzo was skilled in charming the fairer sex. She needed to understand that he had no intention of killing them and if he played his cards right he would be able to have them donate it instead so that his house would have their own steady supply of blood. That would put the house on the same scale as the ones who own the hospital.

Lorenzo took a breath and started to slowly walk forward and dodge the arrow that would have pierced his heart and in a quick motion he got close to her before she could pull out her sword on him. My lady please understand that we are not like most vampires. My house values mercy and compassion above others. we do not plan to hurt your people we simply wanted to make a deal of regular donations" Lorenzo said as he gently stroked some hair from her face seeing her blush slightly from Lorenzo's gaze and he hoped that Maria was taking notes on this in her head for future reference. "we don't wish to kill anyone we only want to spare your people from dying with the more violent of our kind" Lorenzo said making a sigh when he said violent of their kind to emphasis his distaste for the others of his kind and let her know that he was on her side more so. "If at all possible we would simply take one bag of blood from whoever wishes to give their blood and in exchange we will offer protection and even items to those who ask it. If you don trust vampires then simply trust me" Lorenzo said with a whisper gently kissing her neck as she fell to the ground her knees to weak to keep her standing.

"you promise not to hurt anyone? Lorenzo smiled knowing that he just struck a deal. "all we ask are for donations we will not force anyone to give what they don't want to. If anyone dies here because of a vampire taking to much blood then I will personally make sure to kill the vampire who violates the agreement" Lorenzo said in agreement as he held out her hand and she sighed taking it to stand back up as she helped to calm everyone down and let them offer choose to offer their blood or not. Even if Lorenzo didn't get a large amount of blood in the long run it will still ensure a steady supply of it...

The wind rustled through Lyla's hair, bellowing it in the air around her. She began to stir just a bit, coming out of her unconscious state. Immediately, the smell of rotting flesh filling her nose at once. Nausea seized her stomach and she gagged, forcing her eyes open. What she saw made her scream: she was 20 stories above ground and quickly moving vertical. Panic seized her and she started to thrash, beating against the back of the black figure that held her.

"Stop that, damn you." a harsh hiss lashed at her. The Wraith was scaling St. Paul's Cathedral with a single hand, hopping from ledge to ledge like an incredibly acrobatic mountaineer. Lyla didn't listen though. She kept shifting and smacking the mysterious being's back until she actually slipped through the Wraith's grip, free falling to the ground now. "Fucking girl..." they cursed, latching a death grip onto a ledge before just barely swinging their free arm to seize the dhampir's foot. Lyla hung there, leering at the earth below her with wide eyes. A bit of fear and nausea induced vomit escaped her mouth and plummeted to the ground. If she survived this, she silently vowed to never go outside again.

They hung there like a barrel of monkeys. The Wraith's momentum was lost now and his back was against the wall, legs dangling freely. Their unseen eyes looked back and saw the form of Sir Craven gaining some ground. Strangely, Elizabeth had just skidded past him. Another presumably curious man followed them, yet there was something more the creature felt in the air around him... It was not panic. It was zeal. Hatred.

"Malkavians..." the assassin seethed, narrowing in on the figure of Elizabeth. The Malkavians were on full alert now, no doubt. This was their territory after all. She had done something, hadn't she? Not only would they have to deal with Thomas' pursuit, but also the mess the Guardian had caused. Oh, she was definitely going to get a scolding tonight. To make matters worse, the ledge the Wraith clang felt like it was about to snap under the pressure of their grip combined with their weight. They couldn't hold onto her for much longer. Either the assassin dropped the girl so they could escape, or they fell along with her. The choice was easy to make, needless to say.

"Ah... So you kept up, my sweet Sir Craven. You've gotten so much better since I last saw you. I remember when you were but a whelp in our community. Even then, you were always a bit more skilled than your peers. And now you stand there, a Prelate just like I." the Wraith stated, laughing softly at the Prelate. "Are you worthy of that title though, Craven? I have a test for you. It's simple, really: Save this girl before her entrails are splattered from here to the Tower of London. Can you live with yourself if you fail?" The jeering laughter of the Wraith grew louder as he tossed Lyla into the air, once again dropping to her doom.

While the assassin made his getaway, the poor girl watched as the concrete got closer and closer. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad though? She tried to close her eyes and embrace her fate, hoping the afterlife was better than what she had lived.

@luclovers @BlackPanther @themerlinhawk

@Viciousmarrow@luclovers

Thomas scented the air as he ran skidding to a momentary halt as his ears picked up a brief scream. St. Paul’s Cathedral, this was not good. The Wraith couldn’t out climb him, not anymore atleast he’d spent some of his last 50 years scaling sheer cliff faces in Nepal and could climb bare rock free hand. That being said, the lead was too big for his training to compensate for. With a snarl Thomas went to run again before he was clipped from behind by a female. She started to slide and he grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. “who the fuck?..” While he was holding her aloft by her collar he sniffed again. “Malkavians”

Thomas narrowed his eyes at the woman taking her in for just a moment before leaning in and sniffing her neck. “Gangrel” His lip curled at the word. It wasn't that he had anything against either of the two clans but they were in the middle of this and she had dragged him in. “Your prelate is causing me problems…” A scream echoed from behind him. Whirling Thomas stared up. The girl plummeted towards the ground from twenty stories up off the ground. Thomas mind did the calculations. This was bad, with the Malkavians closing in, another female in tow and now a Ravnos initiate plummeting towards pavement. Making a final calculation Thomas picked up the Gangrel girl and put her on his back. “You owe me for this, besides your prelate just caused me a tremendous headache.”

Thomas foot crunched tiles as he sprinted there was no way he could maintain the speed but he only needed it to intercept the falling girl. Moving at an absolute blur Thomas sprung like a coiled spring from the edge of the roof across from the Cathedral. At the peak of his jump he slammed into Lyla wrapping his body around her. Thomas did his best to cover her back with his arms and legs tucking her face and vitals against his chest. They slammed through a lower window and Thomas lost his hold on Lyla. The straw haired girl slip towards the edge of a catwalk they had crashed into. Thomas swore in Farsi as she disappeared over the edge. Scrambling Thomas’ arm shot out and grabbed her wrist as she dangled over the edge. The sudden jerk dislocated his left arm sending burning pain through his left arm. “God damn it, Girl!” The rest of the sentence was in Arabic as he freed Elizabeth’s grip on his neck and grabbed Lyla with his right arm. Using a tremendous heave he pulled the girl back onto the catwalk. Rolling onto his back Thomas exhaled slowly.

What a night to be back in London

@Themerlinhawk@Viciousmarrow@luclovers

Vika made it close enough to see the noble leaping to catch the falling girl. He keeps going, knowing that he can make in time to intercept these...people. Considering that the noble had had a woman on his back along with jumping to catch another...most likely he is still there. With his focus on who he was chasing he barely noticed the scent of the other vampire...the guardian. Until of course he inhaled more, then he smelled the other scent. Forcing himself to go faster he launches off of a roof top and catches a minuscule ledge on the side of the cathedral. Hitting the building with a hard thud causing him to take a few moments to catch his breath he thinks through his options before doing a type of back flip and catching the edge of the window.

With a grumble he does another back flip into the cathedral and lands on his feet. Not skipping a beat he pulls his crossbow off of his back and it makes several whirring noises as it self loads. Each of his crossbows hold 5 crossbow bolts within a reloading type chamber...each takes him an extremely long time. He points the crossbow at Thomas his hood hiding his face. "So, why exactly were you so interested in this one" Talking about lyla. He knows the noble wounded his arm, so he is expecting to be able to handle this. He is also figuring that this noble is a vampire...considering how he was able to catch the girl. Not realizing that the two women are also vampires. "Other then using her as food of course" His voice was still somehow velvety even though his words hold a bit of hate toward this guy.

Locke Bahadur

There wasn't much Locke could have done in the heat of the moment. He did have his Kukri with him, but seeing as how that courtesan ended up gave Locke second thoughts. This thing that had kidnapped Lyla was a vampire... and so were the two men that had sprinted off into the night in chase after him. Chasing the vampires would have been a futile effort, so he decided to question the woman that knew Lyla, as it seemed Lyla was someone of importance. If vampires were after her, Locke dreaded thinking about what exactly was her importance. Locke needed answers, but it seemed that all he was receiving were questions.

"Miss? I know your... Lyla has been kidnapped, and you might be in shock, but I am a private investigator. Do you mind if I ask you some quick questions? Yes, I am not the police, but I doubt the local authorities would believe you when they you tell them a man appeared out of thin air to capture Ms.Lyla. Do you know what her importance is to that man?"

@lovely complex @Stern Algorithm

For a while now, she'd been having this strange feeling. The feeling that something was going to happen to her, and that something had to do with the actions of her past. The feeling had become so strong the last week that it consumed every single one of her waking and sleeping hours but the ones she dedicated to her meditation. What could be so important as to take over her trained mind? She'd wander around like she did when she first exiled herself. Thinking about things that were or that could have been and not focusing on the path she was actually walking in.

She shook herself out of her worrying as she approached the dreary old building. While everything was dreary and old in the City the English called London, this one seemed even drearier and older. It was the Asylum, a place worthy of every horror story you could imagine about killers, rapists and otherwise criminally deranged monsters.

Calling them monsters may not be fair, Sengchou thought and forced a smile onto her face for a split second, I do attack innocent people and drink their blood from time to time.

She shrugged her shoulders and relaxed them, pulled them back and relaxed them again and finally lightly kicked her legs out to the sides to loosen up. Then she entered the Asylum.

The front doors were open and the 'reception', if one could call the dirty room with a small table one first saw as such, was empty. If it wasn't for the fact that she was tracking one of her Family here, she would have already left. As it stood, she had to walk deeper into the Asylum. And that's when the crazies started screaming and shouting. She expected them to do so when they saw her, dressed in her orange Monk Robes, but they hadn't seen her yet. That only meant they'd seen her Family around.

So she walked at a brisk pace through the long, dimly lit corridors, startling some of the crazed men and captivating others.

After taking a turn, she saw them. Five of her Family and one human. There was no fight going on, but Sengchou still took a hold of the hard wood staff on her back and wielded it as she approached. Her Family had their backs turned to her, and the only one who'd possibly been able to see her turning the corner was the woman.

Still, she walked. From such a far distance, it was hard to tell if Sengchou was a woman or a man. With the way the robes fit her and the small size of her breasts coupled with the baggy pants and the dim illumination of the room that didn't allow a normal human to see her face or long hair, well, she could've been anyone or anything.

Or at least, anyone or anything that dared to dress such bright colors.

She hoped no one but Shaolin Monks dared to wear those colors and the English recognized that, but they'd shown themselves to be ignorant about the Monks uncountable times before.

"Lorenzo," Sengchou spoke calmly, "you've got a good head on your shoulders and this will aid us greatly, but you know this will not impress him. Let's work together and we'll achieve more."

@Frettzo

Lorenzo smiled at the woman as she calmed a few of them down but not before they got riled up again presumably they saw another vampire nearby other then the ones that were already here so Lorenzo soon turned around but when he saw the monk robes he knew that they were safe "don't worry shes one of us" Lorenzo told her as she nodded going back to calming the others then she came over Lorenzo's posse got down on one knee in front of her while Lorenzo gave her a small bow because she was of higher rank she had to be respected as such but the closer they are to rank the less theatrical they had to be about their greetings to each other. When she spoke Lorenzo's men and woman got back to standing up as he listened to her and tell him that this wouldn't impress his uncle. Lorenzo didn't want to admit it but she might be right even if they had a supply of blood packs it wouldn't be enough to promote him at best it would get him a good job from his uncle/elder. Lorenzo gave her his nice smile and nodded to her"If you believe working together is the right idea Sengchou, then I will not be opposed to the idea. If you know of a way to really impress him then me and my team will be happy to join you in the endeavor Lorenzo said giving her another bow then he turned back to the girl to explain "don't worry this woman is actually a higher rank then I am and I will explain the deal to her so that we can arrange for your donations as they come. As I promised before nobody ill be hurt by one of my kind and nobody will die from blood loss because they were greedy. If you will excuse us me and my family will bid you adu. Angelo said with a grin going over and kissing her gently on the cheek to make her putty in his hands one last time as she got weak in the knees again and nodded in understanding...

Magdalena didn't have much time to process everything - Sir Thomas Craven was back, well shit. She knew she had to be careful around her Prelate. Her work was important and getting her lab shut down was not on her agenda. Lyla was on stage getting bid on, of course she was. Somehow, that dhampir always found herself in the worst trouble regardless if she were in a closet or like today, experiencing the world! Greg came running in, having seen something slip from the back (The Wraith), "Master..."

And with that, the scene began to play out in slow motion. The Wraith made his grand entrance, killing a few people which was a marvelous sight, and taking her darling Lyla captive. The half breed of 17 filled with the blood of a Grangrel. Seems Amaury might be reconsidering not vouching for Lyla, many years ago. The Wraith left in smoke, for even Grangrel can use alchemy if they truly wanted to. Sir Thomas followed after the Wraith, ah- long lasting rivals, and even the man she talked with earlier left. People were screaming and vacating the premises. Weak, scared people. Lena whispered something in Greg's ears and he nodded excitedly. He followed suit into the night to take care of his master's task. Smirking to herself, she noticed that the man of dark skin was still in the cabaret. Interesting, a man who probably saw his fair share of blood shed in his life.

Sitting down at a table that was abandoned with prime rib and wine, Lena gestured for him to come sit with her. She began cutting her food in silence and enjoying this nice piece of meat. Savoring every piece of her meal, she closed her eyes and listened to the fading noise of chaos. She knew they would only have a few moments together before the police force got here to investigate. Patting her lips with a napkin, she rested her eyes on the guest.

Don't worry, she did catch him when he told her he was a private investigator and how he wanted to know more about her pet. Magdalena's face was completely apathetic. Sawing her meat, she finally began to talk, always in that lovely accent of hers, "They mistook little girl for whore. Abigail, poor wench let clients beat her. How I know this? I know here. I knew her. I come often. For prime rib, that is." She took another bloody piece and slipped it slowly in her mouth. A euphoric expression fell on her face as she felt the juices slip into her throat.

Chewing the meat, she continued, "You think this woman bad Guardian" She gestured to herself as she swallowed the chunk of meat. Magdalena then shrugged, "Perhaps, but little girl will be safe. If by me not, Father find her. He good at that. Creature that stole little girl saw Abigail in little girl. They say Abigail born 'royal blood'. If I say... Abigail: creature. Clients missing after good time was given. Father hunts creatures like that creature" She glances back at the stage referring to the Wraith, "Like Abigail. Those creatures..." She pointed to the mess of blood and bodies in disgust, but in reality was turned on by it, "Cruel. Heartless... I, Dark Man, only woman." She hinted to him of the terrible society view of women and how they can't achieve what men can. Picking up her wine glass, her jade eyes looked the dark man, up and down, taking in his skin, his face, his voice, "Dark Man not woman, but he dark and we small." They were minorities, it was obvious in this kind of world they wouldn't be seen in the same light as a white man. She took a sip of her wine and sighed, continuing her long, and highly convincing lie, "Perhaps women not smart. But pray for little girl."

Picking up her napkin, she patted her luscious lips one last time and then dismissed herself, saying it was time for her to look for little girl. Greg was outside in a carriage grinning at his master excessively. Exiting the door, taking in the scent of this "private investigator", Magdalena approached the carriage. Rather than sit inside the carriage, she went beside Greg on the driver's bench and then peered into the front window of the carriage, "Good Greg. Good."

The carriage had a delightful surprise in it. She and Greg shouldn't waste any more time. There was a lot of resources to be had this "calm" night! The carriage sped off.

@Nytem4re

Little Jack

"Where's my goddamn Winchester model 1866?" The child-looking vampire yelled in surprise, lips curled as he showed his fangs in anger, before he slammed the table where assorted parchments laid scattered about. The sound of splinters being ejected and the very table cracking quickly silenced his words finally before sighing. He slumped his head, almost slamming the table in the process, as the gears on his mind were still processing who had been the fool responsible for such a vexation.

"One more time... let me ask one more time. This is all about regarding this week's shipments... isn't it?" Little Jack formulated the sentence slowly, as if talking to someone who was a child, or incredibly scared. His eyes darted to the recruited aide this time, a Kyres who had been drafted into library and paperwork duties. The young, handsome looking lad flinched significantly at the sight of Little Jack's scowl directed at him. He feared an angry veteran vampire, even if said vampire had the body of a nine year old.

"Yes...sir...sir. I've checked it thrice." The brunette said in a choked voice.

"Allfather..." Little Jack uttered a curse before visiblely relaxing. "Ah, I suppose it's no use getting angry and that. Those slobs at the New York docks, will hear from me soon. It must have been their fault." The Prelate kid finally said, before jumping down fron the chair in a single leap, and started to walk.

"Hawkes, wasn't it?" Jack eyed the Kyres once more, who still reeled at the mere notion a prelate was addressing him directly."...please put the parchments back in the files." He added as he started to walk outside his studio, stopping before remembering something. "...Keep up the good work." He encouraged the youth. He'd probably forget his face in a few minutes, but that wasn't reason to not be polite given the circumstances.

What a mess. Our ruler kinda kicked the hornet's nest this time. Sparked the ambitions of the entire vampire community of London, and I bet Lord Ventrue doesn't even realize that this means everyone else will come down knocking on our turf in the most underhanded ways possible. Fair competition among vampires? Hah, fat chance of that happening! And those fools at the States have forgotten to send the weapons shipment to increase our firepower. What use is to be near the docks if we can't really exploit it fully?? This is going to be tough, and I can't let everything be handled by underlings. The prelate kept walking sunk in thoughts. I could use a snack now...and is that Lord Ventrue? He said as he noticed an all too familiar figure doing... strange sorts of maneuvers.

He's not normally this loopy. He added mentally, as he approached Lord Ventrue, a shadow of concern in his face. "M'lord?"

"Jack, Jack! Over here, my boy! I have done the impossible!" the hurried voice of Louis Ventrue called out, ushering the child-like vampire towards him.

What lay before Ventrue was... horrifying, to say the least. A cat's corpse, lanced through the skull with a Bowie knife, was sewn to a child's purple, star-speckled wizard cloak. On the flip side, two pocket watches hung from the cloak's tassels, engraved with rudimentary crosses. What the hell this monstrosity was, only the Elder seemed to know. Louis was practically weeping, a strong sense of accomplishment flourishing on his face.

"Jack... This is what Vlad wants to see. Right here, Jack. This is the key to the past and the future. Ravnos can go bugger off, as I, Louis Ventrue, have completely surpassed him! This, Jack, is a time machine!" he excitedly explained. He tapped the cat's dead corpse and spread his hands around his creation. "See, I devised this by combining all the important elements of each House. I thought to myself 'What's sneakier than a Grangel?' A cat, of course! 'What symbolizes Ravnos?' A WIZARD, JACK! BECAUSE THEY ARE SMART! LIKE WIZARDS!" As Louis began to raise his voice in exhilaration, it was quite clear he was out of his mind right now.

Hastily, the white haired vampire threw the abomination over his head. "The knife that slays the cat, an analogy for our House, feeds the life force into these clocks here, Jack! I didn't know what symbolized the Malkavians, so I just threw some crosses and shit on there. When these forces combine, Jack, it creates a temporal portal that will let me walk through time and space! Just watch!" the exuberant Ventrue spat out, speaking all sorts of crazy. Suddenly, he clasped his hands together and remained silent. The Elder was making a strange humming sound, and before Jack knew it, the man threw off the cloak. A bewildered look was on the man's face as he gazed at his surroundings. His fist knocked on the walls to make sure they were real, and he moved over to his friend, touching the tiny Prelate's face.

"Jack! I made it! The future looks... oddly the same though. Anyway, tell me what the other Houses have done so I can go back in time and know their every move!"


The voices of Igraine and Augustus filled the robed Elder's ears, but he didn't stir at all. His finger ran across the text of grimoire, wanting to finish this paragraph before he addressed either of them. This particular section concerned the treatment of anxiety with valerian root. Perhaps this would be useful for a certain someone.

"Intriguing..." the man muttered before he closed his large book, his golden eyes falling on his prisoners. A cold, aloof air followed him as he walked over to the 14 year old looking vampire. "Igraine, it has been quite some time. I remember when you were just a toddler. London's little miracle. You were quite the demanding princess even then. Your father never paid you any heed though. I have yet to understand why you still remain in Amaury's domain, but perhaps you crave his blessing. I can tell you now that such an endeavor is... nigh impossible." Unlike his demeanor, his voice was soothing and calm, welcoming even. Marc felt some sympathy for the girl. To live in the shadow of someone so... cruel and inhumane was heartbreaking. "If you find you can deal with the pain no more, you are always welcome in my halls. It would not be the first time I've had someone with his blood in my House." the Elder extended an invitation to the girl. Beneath those eyes of hers, he saw that Igraine could be greater than what she was. Whether or not she would listen, well... It was Amaury's daughter he was talking to, so he doubted she would defect to him.

He digresses from the vampiress and turns his head to the human. The man absolutely reeked of Ventrue. "I should tell you, human, that I am no thief or rogue. The white powder is of no concern to me, nor do I wish to feed on you. What does concern me is a vampiress and a human trying to murder each other in my presence over this. Consider this a parley." he is blunt and concise with his words. He walks back over to the table and fetches the strange powder. "Madam has informed me you came to her with this substance. I assume you were sent to identify its properties, so I shall inform you."

He strides just in front of the human, running the powder through his hand. "This is a new product brought from South America called coca. It can be used as an anesthetic for certain surgical procedures, but it is mostly abused as a nervous system stimulant. Before now, it had yet to reach England. I am sure Amaury imported it, the clever fiend he is." he lectured, probably boring the two of them with his scientific approach to his wording. He diverts his stare to Igraine. Without missing much of a beat, he jumps right into another lecture. "This was stolen right from under your father's nose. Although Amaury did not notice, Louis Ventrue took it from him. I am constantly amazed by that man's boldness as it was in plain sight of Francois and I. Ventrue, I assume, sent his Aspirant on a suicide mission then since he would, naturally, not know what this coca was. The man is too... ignorant... to understand his actions."

Afterwards, the Elder produces two filled needles from his robes. Each contains a foreign, purple sizzling liquid. "Now, I hope I have informed you of enough to be at peace with one another. You will go back to your masters with what you have learned from me. Igraine, I shall return your narcotics and pike back to you, as I don't wish for you to be harmed tonight. Amaury has zero tolerance for failure. And you, human, shall return to Ventrue with what you have learned, but do not be surprised if he has forgotten about your task already." With that, he took one needle and injected the substance into Augustus' veins first. No amount of writing would break their chains. Then Marc advanced on Igraine, implanting the same liquid into the Grangrel. At first, there was no impact on them, but that would soon change.

"This liquid will ensure you don't remember this place. You will remember my words, but nothing of what you have seen. Also, don't try to kill each other. I'll be watching you."

With that, both of Marc's captives went limp.

---

Augustus and Igraine wake up in a deserted alleyway, backs against the wall and lumped upon one another. The vampiress' pike is wrapped up again, and the human's pistol hangs from a holster at his waist. Passersby comment on them, either mistaking them for the homeless or two lovers.

"Intriguing..." the man muttered before he closed his large book, his golden eyes falling on his prisoners. A cold, aloof air followed him as he walked over to the 14 year old looking vampire. "Igraine, it has been quite some time. I remember when you were just a toddler. London's little miracle. You were quite the demanding princess even then. Your father never paid you any heed though. I have yet to understand why you still remain in Amaury's domain, but perhaps you crave his blessing. I can tell you now that such an endeavor is... nigh impossible." Unlike his demeanor, his voice was soothing and calm, welcoming even. Marc felt some sympathy for the girl. To live in the shadow of someone so... cruel and inhumane was heartbreaking. "If you find you can deal with the pain no more, you are always welcome in my halls. It would not be the first time I've had someone with his blood in my House." the Elder extended an invitation to the girl. Beneath those eyes of hers, he saw that Igraine could be greater than what she was. Whether or not she would listen, well... It was Amaury's daughter he was talking to, so he doubted she would defect to him.

He strides just in front of the human, running the powder through his hand. "This is a new product brought from South America called coca. It can be used as an anesthetic for certain surgical procedures, but it is mostly abused as a nervous system stimulant. Before now, it had yet to reach England. I am sure Amaury imported it, the clever fiend he is." he lectured, probably boring the two of them with his scientific approach to his wording. He diverts his stare to Igraine. Without missing much of a beat, he jumps right into another lecture. "This was stolen right from under your father's nose. Although Amaury did not notice, Louis Ventrue took it from him. I am constantly amazed by that man's boldness as it was in plain sight of Francois and I. Ventrue, I assume, sent his Aspirant on a suicide mission then since he would, naturally, not know what this coca was. The man is too... ignorant... to understand his actions."

Afterwards, the Elder produces two filled needles from his robes. Each contains a foreign, purple sizzling liquid. "Now, I hope I have informed you of enough to be at peace with one another. You will go back to your masters with what you have learned from me. Igraine, I shall return your narcotics and pike back to you, as I don't wish for you to be harmed tonight. Amaury has zero tolerance for failure. And you, human, shall return to Ventrue with what you have learned, but do not be surprised if he has forgotten about your task already." With that, he took one needle and injected the substance into Augustus' veins first. No amount of writing would break their chains. Then Marc advanced on Igraine, implanting the same liquid into the Grangrel. At first, there was no impact on them, but that would soon change.

"This liquid will ensure you don't remember this place. You will remember my words, but nothing of what you have seen. Also, don't try to kill each other. I'll be watching you."

With that, both of Marc's captives went limp.

---

Augustus and Igraine wake up in a deserted alleyway, backs against the wall and lumped upon one another. The vampiress' pike is wrapped up again, and the human's pistol hangs from a holster at his waist. Passersby comment on them, either mistaking them for the homeless or two lovers.

Igraine wakes up and grabs her head in confusion. She finds herself on top of the human and quickly gets off. She gives herself a quick once over to make sure she hasn't been touched or violated in any way. Assured that nothing had been done to her, Igraine picks up her pike and looks down at Augustus. She considers ending him here, but Ravnos' words held her back. She doubted that she could expressly disobey an elder while in his territory immediately after he had issued those orders and expect to live. She slings the pike over her shoulder and makes sure she still has the block of coca. While the human wasn't much of a threat, the fact that Ravnos had told him all about the coca was worrisome. She didn't know what the erratic Ventrue would do with such information. It was also troubling to know that Ventrue had managed to steal it off of her father in the first place. Either way, her mission was accomplished, she could return to the nest and present the brick to the Wraith; she might even offer it in Lady Park's behalf, the Wraith would know Igraine retrieved the coca, but maybe it would make Elizabeth more appreciative of Igraine. But Igraine still couldn't shake the fact that letting this human run free was a good idea. Unsure what to do, she roughly prodded Augustus with her foot. "Hey! Wake up!"

@Akai no Senshi