Ventrue Tower

Camarilla Prince Sebastian Lacroix finishes off a meeting with the primogens, they take their leave and Lacroix somberly walks through his office on the top floor of the Tower. He begins to reflect deeply on his goals, ruminating over a glass of high-born blood. He looks out the window of his office, thinking of how to win the war against the Sabbat, how to somehow rid himself of the Anarchs and his secret dealings with the Kuei Jin.

He thinks of the coffin, of how he can get into it. Lacroix may be a high ranking member of the Camarilla, but he wasn't above thoughts of Diablerizing such a powerful vampire that could be hiding within the coffin. With that power, he could rule L.A, no, the whole world with an Iron Fist of might. Who could be hiding within the coffin, could it be the wizard Tremere, the rebellious Brujah or even Lord Ventrue himself? He turns to his Sherrif and orders him into the night, to establish the dominance of the Camarilla against his enemies and to perhaps find a pawn that could help him achieve his goals.

Elsewhere in L.A

The Technocracy and the Council of the Nine Mystic Traditions sit in their office buildings, still at war with one another. Some of the mages in these factions are wary of the end times, sensing the Primordial Essence on Astral Winds.

The Fera of the forests itch with anxiety, words of the coming Apocalypse on their minds. They do what they can to protect the wilderness outside L.A, and have struck up a deal with the Camarilla to stop any urban expansion in their territory in exchange for killing any of their enemies that they could get their paws on. The compromise is on a thin red line, it is an uneasy alliance and the Fera do not feel right working for vampires. How long this might last is up to debate.

Meanwhile, the spotting of the coffin has triggered rumors of Gehenna among the vampires of L.A. Beckett moves out to disprove these rumors while Smiling Jack decides he's going to have some fun...

Tony Lee

Tony moves through the streets of Chinatown, unafraid of the Kuei Jin haunting the every nook and cranny of the Oriental section of L.A. He was on a mission to help a young hunter named Yukie, who's master was slain by a fellow Hengeyokai, but not of the same species as him. He thinks back to his meeting with Yukie.

"I look for Hengeyokai who kill my master, he is terrible monster like you. You though, are different monster. You hunt Kuei Jin. That make you good to me. I look only for Rokea. You help me find him?" Yukie asked. Tony spoke Mandarin and Yukie spoke Japanese, so they could only communicate with broken English. Tony was in disbelief that such a young girl was a hunter looking for vengeance, and wanted to help her.

"Yes, I look for monster with you. When we find him, we slay him together. He is different monster than me, kills for money and glory. I don't like this kind of Fera." Tony Lee said to Yukie. They split up and went to look for the Hengeyokai separately.

Clarence Darby's lair was a true study in contrasts; The carpet and much of the furniture in the small, semi-abandoned ghetto apartment were spotted with oil and grease, the imprints of various mechanical parts still visible in the black smudges. Empty beer bottles, all left by Cheyenne of course, were scattered around the kitchen and living room, and the ashtray on their coffee table was overflowing with cigarette butts. Few would assume it to be more than the home of some White trash squatter...at least until they entered the bedroom.

The apartment's sole bookshelf was stocked with occult texts, both of mundane and of real substance, and the various little ritual components were aligned with surprising neatness compared to the rest of the vampire' home. The long work table was similarly topped with ghoulish tools, and the bloodstains spotting it's worn wood spoke to it's regular use. Practice made perfect, after all, and necromancy required a lot of practice.

At the moment the Brujah was hunch over one of the older texts, the scent of grave dirt and old bones thick on the tome, his gloved hands working over the pages with tender care. He'd gotten used to those sorts of smells over the last five months, working under the Samedi's tutelage, and it was hardly the strangest of things he'd adjusted to. After all, he drank blood like he had booze not too long ago, and he could break anyone in his old MC in half with his pinkie. He'd taken to it all well as a predator.

Of course, there was the Camarilla, though, and they were always a pain in the ass to deal with, and now he'd heard some stirrings that someone had made a big find in the city. He just knew that Lacroix would be siccing him on that. He shook his head and went back to his study. The sheriff would probably be paying him a visit sooner or later with a new errand from Lacroix, so he had to soak up as much as he could before he'd be dragged off to deal with whatever bullshit the prince had going.

Well, every great power came with a price, after all.

"I've e-mailed you the paperwork. Just print it and fill it out; we'll pick it up when we get there."

"What is this? Some kind of waver?"

"Yes. In the event of injury or loss of life, it states that you agree to take the risks upon yourself and your family member and therefore can not take legal action against us."

"Loss of life?!"

"In which case you will receive a full refund and our deepest apologies."

There was a long pause on the other side of the phone. Then, "It says here that no cameras or filming will be allowed."

"Yes. It makes my partner uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? You're saying that he can kill my daughter and I can't sue, but he can't be made uncomfortable?!"

"That is what the paperwork states, ma'am. And I can guarantee you that my partner is no killer, however if your daughter is possessed by something powerful enough, it may be able to end her life if it so pleases."

Another pregnant pause. "What time will you be here?"

"In about two hours."

___

The tension inside the home was palpable as the priest and his partner arrived. The family was gathered in the living room, their expressions tired and pale. Exhausted eyes looked up at them as the two entered. Father Walter was dressed for the occasion in his traditional robe and collar. Lucas wore all dark colors: dress pants, a black turtleneck, and a scarf that his face was tucked into. He stayed close to his companion as the Father greeted the family.

They were quickly shown back to the bedroom where the victim was being contained. The family just wanted to get this done with so they could finally begin to pick up the pieces. From what Father Walter had heard, they had tried several other methods: doctors, priests, sage cleanses. Nothing worked.

The young woman was covered in self inflicted scratched and small wounds. She wore a now ratty pajama set with what looked like vomit down the front. Her eyes were cold and inhuman as they watched the priest and scarfed man enter. The look of contempt was not hard to miss. The girl was tied to the bed by her wrists and ankles to keep her from hurting herself any further. Her mother trailed closely behind the two, but Father Walter turned to smile kindly at her, and ask that she remain outside the room.

"It may be a bit hard to watch," He said as gently as he could. The mother was stubborn.

"I want the door open. I want to be here." She settled to remain in the hallway. That would have to do. Lucas was eyeing the young woman uneasily. Whatever had taken her body was powerful enough to defeat anyone else who had tried to exorcise it. It had driven the young woman to give one priest a very nasty bite. Father Walter turned to the girl, who had remained silent as she mean mugged the two of them. He drew a small Bible from his pocket and began to speak a prayer for the girl.

An inhuman snarl left the girl's throat. She drooled down her cheek as she curled her lips back over her teeth. Father Walter remained unphased. When he was done, Lucas slowly approached the girl. Her head whipped around to watch him. She snarled words at him in a different tongue; it didn't sound too friendly. Lucas reached out to touch her cheek, and then the girl began to trash wildly.

The monster inside of her roared, causing the mother in the hallway to gasp and take a step back. The hellish cry carried all the way downstairs. The demon in the girl pulled at the restraints, trying with all its might to survive. Father Walter moved in to grab the girl's shoulders and push her back down. She hissed and lunged at the man, trying to take a chunk of flesh out of him. Lucas moved fast this time, cupping his hands on either side of the girl's face and turning her head back towards him.

The girl's eyes met his, and suddenly she stopped moving. His dark eyes fixated on her's as he loomed over her. The room was silent. The air was tense. Then, the girl went limp.

Lucas fell back away from her, his back hitting against the wall behind him. His breath turned ragged as he clenched his hands to his own head and doubled over. He would jerk every now and then, seeming to battle a silent force for a good five minutes before he, too, went still. Finally, he braced against the wall and slid to the floor, his head drooped.

Father Walter watched the entire thing closely. He waited a moment. "Lucas?"

The dark eyed man looked up at him slowly. The same familiar, black eyes met his. The beast was gone. The priest walked over to the man to help him back to his feet. The mother ran into the room to her daughter and clasped her hands on either side of the girl's face.

"Tracy?" She asked, pleadingly. The girl gave a soft moan.

"Mom?" Her voice was soft and weak, tired from days of battling the demon who had made her body its home. The older woman broke into tears and embraced her daughter, then quickly began undoing the restraints. The rest of the family came up, having heard the commotion die down. There was an air of relief among them. The two exorcists decided that this was their cue to leave. They didn't wait to receive their gratitude.

Father Walter helped Lucas out to the car and into the passenger seat. The skinny young man promptly fell asleep against the door as they began to fight LA traffic back to their home.

Nephandi. Dark Mages who want to destroy everything that exists for a variety of reasons, the most charitable being that they believe it beyond redemption and must be destroyed. This cause would be understandable, if not for the fact that only a few believe in it. With the power of Anti-Spheres, aka magic that can only destroy, the Nephandi were a meneace, one made more difficult to deal with by the fact that if they are killed, they would only reincarnate, meaning that they had to be captured and had to have their Avatars - the part of the soul that allows one to use Magic - severed via the rite of gilgul.

Priscilla didn't have the facilities or even Spheres needed for that. And so, clad in her 'explorer's outfit', the young-looking woman paced the floor of her parish, wringing her hands as she agonized over a decision.

She cannot tackle the Nephandi threat alone; she needed help. And so, with reluctance, she called her superior in the Chorus, one Lucas Lee.

"Hello, Bishop?" she asked, "You were right; Nephandi have been sighted here in larger than normal numbers. Same for Vampires - a few limit themselves to willingly given human blood, but others are just bad people - Werewolves, and even Demons. My city seems to be turning into a powder keg; I'm sorry to say this, but doesn't the presence of Nephandi justify a truce between us and the Technos? It's happened before." Priscilla tensed at that; although Lucas held the same doubts as her, he was still a man who pursued the Ascension War with some conviction.

So it was a relief when the answer from the Bishop was: "Nephandi justify it, yes. Same for an increase in Vampires. You might also want to monitor that company called Pentex; they accept everyone, including Nephandi. Help will be coming, so just hold on."

Just hold on. Prisicilla didn't know if she should find hope in that, or suspect that her superiors were abandoning her...

David sighed, looking over various reports and files in the office below his apartment. A cigarette hung from his lips, and a sealed flask sat within arms reach upon the desk. Reports of supernatural occurrences were becoming increasingly common in the recent weeks, and it had been keeping David very busy. His contacts in the Kindred community, various ghouls that knew of him through reputation and his work, had told him of Prince Lacroix's recent moves. There'd been an increasing number of demonic possessions, and subsequently exorcisms, most being performed by the same strange youth. The mages were seeming to ramp up their backroom scheming and dealings, with rumors of a truce between the two major factions seeming to exist.

Taking a deep inhale on his cigarette, David set the files aside and turned to his laptop. Though he didn't necessarily agree with her practices, or even the existence of her magazine, David didn't deny that Jacki's Occult Digest was a useful source of news, if one could filter out the speculation.



Clicking on this link, David read through the article, about how a young man, vastly gifted in the arts of exorcisms, had been making headway in L.A., aided by an older priest known as Father Walter. Reports of the youth go back several weeks, with one of the earliest ones speaking of a case David was all too familiar with...

The Cult of Postquam vitae mors. That was the cult that David had ended up getting captured by. He remembered being captured as he entered what was believed to be the cult's hideaway. He found himself tied to an alter and subject to a strange ritual. His memories were vague after that, but he distinctly remembered feeling out of control of his own body, like something else had taken over, burying his own soul deep within his subconscious. Then he remembers a fight, some dreams about what he believes to be a war, and then waking up in his own apartment, with a message from the client who had hired him on the case thanking him for saving his family member.

This report, about the boy stopping the cult's attempt to supposedly summon a Demon, matched perfectly with David's memories. Clearly he had this kid to thank for saving him from the Demon in question. Deciding a proper thanks was in order, he decided to shoot this 'Father Walther' a message. Looking up his contact info through the website linked in the news article, he would call his listed number, seeking to arrange a meetup at a local diner.

He sent an email to Bowyer as well, asking him to arrive to the meeting if he could. He hadn't spoken to Bowyer in a few weeks, since the encounter with the cult, and he wanted to see the man again. Deciding to round out the meetup, he called the kid, Damien, who had come asking for a job. The kid deserved to learn the real workings of the world, and this was probably the best way as any.

@Metronome@Wraithblade6

Damien was fortunate enough to have a basement attached to the apartment he rented. Judas Priest played from an old stereo set on the floor next to an old weights machine with a bench and a pullup bar. Damien was working out. Wrist wraps really helped him push numbers when his grip otherwise would have failed. He pulled up over and again, a good burn forming in his arms. He'd feel the workout in his lats later. Good exercise always left him with a satisfied, warm, bulky feeling the next day. Even breathing felt great as the gentle rise and fall of his chest expanded and moved the worked muscle. Damien was thoroughly enjoying his youth and the strength it gave him.

He finished up and checked his phone on the shelf. A notification told him he had an email, it was a meeting invitation from his new boss. He furrowed his brow with concern as he realized what short notice he had. "Oh no... You can't mean today!" It was today, Friday, the same day Damien had a hot Match-up date later which would be jeopardized if this spur-of-the-moment meeting were to run too long. He sighed heavily, considering his chances of making both appointments. He could still take a girl out later... if he ever got a paycheck.

Phone away, showered, Damien never blow-dried his hair. He thought he'd better show up looking sharp. Shirt and tie, nice slacks, and he brought the suit jacket just incase the boss would be wearing one. Being the novice sleuth that he was, Damien looked up the details. So they would be meeting a Father Wellner. The name triggered the memory of that digest article he had just read. He rushed to grab it at the last minute, rolling it into his pocket to review on the metro rail. Not having a car wasn't such a big deal in a city like this, and it certainly saved on expenses. Still, if this job effort ever panned out, he'd get one eventually.

Damien showed up to the diner with his jacket over one arm, just realizing the magazine was still on him. Hopefully Occult Digest wasn't recognizable while rolled up like a burrito. A quick glance showed him to be unarmed. He came in quietly, nodding a greeting to David while finding his pockets with his hands. Trying to appear casual, he scanned the diner patrons briefly in search of anyone that resembled a priest, not wholly expecting to find one. Damien wasn't much of a church goer. A lot of Hispanics were devout catholic, but his mother hadn't the luxury to show up every Sunday, and thus he had never formed the habit and always felt like an outsider. He probably would have met a nice young lady by now if he had stuck to any of his proper Christian duties, but religion was a part of Damien's life where he had allowed himself to fail. An irrational guilt haunted him for it, seeming to surge in strength every time he entered the presence of a clergyman. They made him uncomfortable.

Upon reaching their home, a quaint, old Catholic church near downtown LA, the odd pair made their way inside to settle in for a while. Lucas was still a bit drained, so Father Walter figured he'd be nice and prepare the younger man's "lunch". This consisted of pureed fruits, vegetables, vitamin powder, and a medical grade protein sludge. It smelled about as appetizing as it sounded. Luckily, Lucas didn't have to taste it.

The priest took the smoothie to Lucas, who had curled up and fallen asleep on the old couch in his 'bedroom'. Lucas woke up just long enough to hook the concoction up to the pump that would deliver it through the tube sticking out of his stomach, then went right back to sleep.

Father Walter headed off to his study to prepared for the next mass's sermon. He still had some writing to do. He hadn't but just sat down when his phone rang. He picked up to an unfamiliar voice, asking him about Lucas. Not by name, but the description wasn't hard to place.

"I'm afraid he doesn't much care for public get togethers," The Father tried to explain nicely that his ward would likely have no interest in meeting this man. However, the stranger persisted. "I'll give him the message and have him text back." That was all the priest could promise.

He got up again and made his way back to Lucas's room. By this time, the younger man had regained most of his energy. He was sitting up on his bed, reading a book from his numerous collection.
"A man by the name of David Jones called. He wanted to set up a meeting with you; something about how you helped him."

Lucas looked up from his book, his dark eyes settling warily on the priest at this news. His thoughts were pretty clear; he didn't want anything to do with anyone he didn't know. Not if he didn't have to. Father Walter just shrugged. "I just told him I'd let you know. Here's his e-mail if you want to write him back." Father Walter left the man with a slip of paper with the e-mail hand written. Lucas took it and stared at it for a bit.

Curiosity took over. Lucas got up and pulled out the small laptop he'd been given to use for communication. He rarely touched it, except to the send e-mails to Seymour. He opened it up and pulled up the browser to looked up the name of the man who wished to see him. A Facebook profile came up with the picture of a familiar face in the corner. Lucas did know this man.

It had been a night several weeks ago. A Hunter had approached him to ask for help dealing with a demon worshiping cult, and Lucas had agreed. He hadn't let Father Walter know about the more dangerous of his outings, out of worry that the priest would try to stop him. This one had been particularly difficult. The first time, in fact, that Lucas had not been able to handle the demon he tried to evict. The cult had summoned the beast into the body of a man they had captured, and by the time Lucas had arrived, it had already possessed him. While the Hunter fought off the cult members, Lucas attempted to exorcise the demon. Once the beast was pulled into Lucas's own body, he found himself unable to defeat it. He had never faced something like this before. He could feel that demon had been weakened, but it had managed to escape. Lucas didn't know where, as he had fallen unconscious soon after the beast had left him. He had awoken the next morning at the hunter's own home before making his way back to the church. The whole experience had left him drained for a couple days.

He stared at the picture of the man, wondering if meeting him might lead to answers as to where that powerful demon had gotten off to. Lucas decided that it was worth braving the public. He opened up his e-mail and wrote the man back, leaving only "OKAY" written in the message before sending it.

He then got up and grabbed his scarf to head off to the cafe mentioned.

@The Whacko

The Sherriff

The Sheriff wandered through the back alleyways of downtown L.A. He was on orders from Lacroix to find any vampire that could help in Lacroix's mission and to eliminate any Sabbat in the area. The Sherriff came behind an apartment of one Clarence Darby, and transformed into a massive bat. He flew into the window of Clarence Darby's apartment, and when he saw the giant monster Clarence knew who it was and acted accordingly.

Tony Lee with Yukie

Tony wandered into the Red Dragon, a restaurant which was a den of Chinatown's major players. Classical Oriental music played over the speakers and the atmosphere screamed authentic. It's patrons dotted the bar area, some where casually chatting, others were focusing on their drinks and the television.

Tony's senses piqued on a particularly foul smell. It was a fishy smell, coming from someone in the bar. Either it was a lady who didn't wash, or something else. He remembered back on what Yukie said on the Hengeyokai. She said that it smelled fishy. He turned around and scanned the bar area, and saw a man with brown medium length hair loitering around. The fishy smell was coming from him. He answered a call on his phone and left the bar. Tony swore he heard him say Kuei-Jin on the phone. Tony followed him out, keeping himself hidden.

Tony followed the man through a couple streets, having no idea where he was going. He heard footsteps from behind him, and turned around to see Yukie.

"You think man is suspicious?" She asked Tony.

"Yes, he smell of fish, just like you say." He whispered back.

"Follow him!" Yukie exclaimed.

They followed him into a warehouse. The Hengeyokai turned around, and started laughing maniacally.

"Oh my luck, not only is my target here, but so is my hunter. Hahahahaha!" The man said.

"O-gami Yukie desu, I return you to hell!" Yukie drew her sword and approached the man. Suddenly, he began to transform into a giant shark monster! Yukie did a flip and drew her sword down onto the Shark Monster, the sword stabbed into him and made it recoil, but he smacked Yukie across the room. While this was happening, Tony had transformed into his War-Form and was on the Shark Monster. The two clashed, holding each other by the arms and where in a contest of strength. The Rokea was overpowering the Khan, and it looked like Tony would be defeated. Just then, Yukie jumped up from behind and slashed at his back, making the Shark Monster writhe in pain. Tony used this moment to slash at the Shark, beheading him with his sharp claws. Tony transformed back into his human form. Yukie approached Tony.

"Hengeyokai is in Hell, my revenge is complete. Domo arigato, monster." Yukie said to Tony.

"Kuei Jin sent him on us, we move out of Chinatown. They are hunting us now." Tony said.

((Collaboration post between Wraithblade and Letter Bee))

Priscilla walked into the diner, having arranged this match-up with one Damien Varomere using Correspondence. Clothed in her hiker's outfit, the americanized Native American had groomed herself so that her looks for today were something she can be proud of, and it seemed like she succeeded. For all eyes turned towards the woman as she walked in, her hair free and hanging loosely as a sign of purity and virginity.

She would then find herself next to the young man with the rolled-up Occult Digest. Turning her head slightly, she would say, "Are you [Insert Internet Name Here]? If so, I'm your date."

Damien turned at the sound of his screenname to see a far more attractive vision than he had honestly expected. It momentarily caught him offguard and he blinked at her, giving himself away. "I uh... yeah I'm that guy. I mean, Yes, that's me. So you must be Priscilla?" He smiled. "I'm glad to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Priscilla introduced herself. "Anyway, first things first. Nothing beyond talking, eating and drinking, and an occassional kiss. I do not do pre-marital canoodling; the honor of the Episcopalian Church's priesthood depends on it." She would then wait for Damien to guide her to a nearby table. "So, your interests say you have a fondness for 'The Occult'? Don't worry, I won't judge you on that." She smiled, before looking at him and finishing, "you know, you really are handsome."

Oh no... She never mentioned going into the priesthood. Damien could not believe this. But he smiled again, maybe bigger this time. Oh, heh heh. You don't have to worry about me. I promise not to take it too far. Besides, I uh... I also invited my new boss."

That was a lie. David had invited Damien. "I don't see him yet. We'll get some food. Are you huungry?"

"Yes, but I can pay half," Priscilla said. "I'm not going to depend on you for everything."

@Grec

Darby smelled and heard The Sheriff long before he saw him, and the neonite swore as he straightened up and set the rather evil-looking tome aside, straightening out his shirt as much as he could to try looking presentable. Considering his manner of dress; a black sleeveless shirt with a faded, white horned skull on the front, camo fatigues tucked into a pair of tall riding boots, it was probably a moot gesture. Still, he had to try, if for nothing else but appearances. When the bat came into view, offered a short, respectful nod, much as it grated his ego to do so.

"Evenin', Sheriff." He drawled, the thick Southern accent bearing a notable Louisiana twang. He stood to look the bat in the eye, though he kept his hands right a this side, in plain view. "To what do I owe th' pleasure've yer company?"

The Camarilla were hardly his favorite people, and he was right there with the Anarchs when it came to what he thought of their roll, he knew that they were the ones in charges, and that they had more than enough power to stake him and leave him for the sun. Plus, they knew about Cheyenne, and the little conscience he had left demanded he protect her. So he stood there, waiting patiently for the bat to give him his orders.

The cafe was a few blocks from the church, but Lucas was used to walking. He didn't have a driver's license, and riding buses made him a bit too uncomfortable. Honestly, crowds in generally spooked him. Sometimes there were too many people just walking down the street.

He stuck out a bit. Lucas seemed to be constantly cold natured, preferring to be bundled up even in the LA heat. He wore the same black turtleneck and slacks, his scarf wrapped around his neck and hiding half of his face. His shoes were old, brown, beat up looking work boots. They were probably given to him second hand. He then wore a pair of old leather gloves on his hands, just in case he had to come in contact with anyone. He couldn't tell non-humans from humans, and most non-humans were burned by his touch. There had been only a couple incidents in his lifetime, but he'd rather not repeat of them.

The young man seemed to stay drawn in on himself as he maneuvered through the evening crowd on the streets. He didn't like being bumped into, so he just made himself as small as possible. Given his frame, it wasn't hard.

When he arrived as the diner, Lucas shuffled into the foyer and looked around. He could vaguely remember what the man he was looking for looked like, but he didn't see him here yet. He scooted out of the way as a woman walked by him, approaching a man and asking if he was some odd name. The concept of internet dating was lost on Lucas, who could just barely use a laptop and had the romantic appeal of a dead fish.

"Hello sir, can I help you?" Lucas jumped a bit as a hostess walked up to him and chirped at him in her perky tone. He looked at her with a wild eyed expression, not quite sure what to do. This was usually the part where Father Walter would speak up for him, but he had no companion with him now. Lucas glanced around, then shook his head quickly. He backed up and eased himself onto one of the benches offered to wait for the man he planned to meet to arrive.

Priscilla, being proficient in Prime, aka the Sphere that allowed for the detection of supernatural powers (just not specific effects unless they're Blood or Angelic Magic), would detect Lucas even though he wasn't a Mage. She would then say to Damien.

"Hold up, there's a lost boy who might need some guidance," before walking over to where Lucas was, smiling brightly. "Hello there. Are you looking for someone?" Using her ability to use Forces to control sound and direct it to Lucas' ear, she would whisper without anyone else hearing her.

"If you're looking for other people with powers, I'm here. I'm also meeting a young, actually normal man. Why don't you come eat with us?" Priscilla had to rely on the fact that she was telling the truth to overcome any instinctive mistrust. Either way, she liked the fact that she had Forces.

@Wraithblade6@Metronome

Lucas took to twiddling his thumbs as he waited. He was startled once again as another young woman approached him. He was beginning to wonder what he did to make people think this was okay. He shifted uncomfortably as she asked if he was looking for someone. His hands squeezed his knees gently and he looked anywhere but at her.

His dark eyes returned back to her when she twisted her voice to reach only his ears. Wide with surprise, he made eye contact with her for a moment before breaking off. He shook his head. He very much would not like to join them. Lucas wasn't exactly one for chit chat. He really just wanted to get this whole thing over with so that he could return to his comfort zone. He didn't even consider that the man they were meeting was one and the same as the one who had invited him here.

Lucas took to twiddling his thumbs as he waited. He was startled once again as another young woman approached him. He was beginning to wonder what he did to make people think this was okay. He shifted uncomfortably as she asked if was looking for someone. His hands squeezed his knees gently and he looked anywhere but at her.

His dark eyes returned back to her when she twisted her voice to reach only his ears. Wide with surprise, he made eye contact with her for a moment before breaking off. He shook his head. He very much would not like to join them. Lucas wasn't exactly one for chit chat. He really just wanted to get this whole thing over with so that he could return to his comfort zone. He didn't even consider that the man they were meeting were one and the same as the one who had invited him here.

"Why?" Prisiclla said, still using Forces to redirect her whisper. "But all right, I won't push. But be careful, all right?"

She would then rummage through her pockets, pulling out a letter-opener shaped like a cross, which in turn had a blade that was invisibly enchanted to inflict damage that cannot be healed even by magic.

"A gift," spoke Priscilla again, "do not reject it." She used Forces to make her voice literally reverberate with power.

And with that, she would go back to Damien, a bit disappointed, but also unknowing of how to get through to this strange kid.

Lucas retreated a bit into his scarf as the gift was offered to him. He was almost like a little turtle with a shell, and about as friendly. He just stared at the gift as it was thrusted towards him, and then only took it when the woman insisted with what sounded like a threatening tone.

He gingerly picked it up with his gloved hand and turned it over to inspect it. What was he supposed to do with this piece of junk? He never got mail. The only friend he had outside of an aging priest was blind! He begrudgingly pocketed the item, considering tossing it in the garbage when he left just out of spite. Maybe Father Walter would like it.

As the woman departed, Lucas wondered what exactly she was. She didn't really give off a demon-y vibe, so he honestly didn't care too much. As he returned to fidgeting with his hands, he began to think about why he had agreed to come here in the first place.

David was just stepping out of his apartment, walking towards where he kept his car parked, when his phone rang. He pulled it from his suit pocket, and sighed when he saw the caller I.D. He answered the call with a swipe of his thumb, held the device up to his ear, and spoke with a very disgruntled voice. "What do you want, Jacki?"

"Aha, David! So this IS still your number. I was worried you'd changed it." David grumbled to himself as she spoke this, contemplating changing his number as soon as he could. Ultimately he decided against it, as his clients needed to know his number, and he didn't want to make all his business cards and advertisements irrelevant.

"So, David. I'm assuming you've heard about all the different activity lately?"

"Yes, Jacki. Did you have something to tell me specifically? Or is this just another call to get me to look at your website?"

"Well, you'll wanna hear this. I found an insider contact, someone who could be of great use to us. He's a bit hesitant to deal with me, but I think you'll be able to get him to talk. I've got his address. I'll send it to you. When you get there, ask for 'Mitch'."

"Alright, Mitch, got it. Now do you have anything else? I'm kinda in the middle of something."

"No, no. I think we're good for now. Let me know how that Mitch thing works out, will ya?"

"Yeah, sure. Goodbye, Jacki."

David didn't even listen for her to say goodbye back, before he tapped the end call button with his thumb. His phone beeped as Jacki sent him the address via text message, and he decided he'd check it out after the diner meeting. With that out of the way, he stepped over to his car, unlocking it with the key fob, and sliding inside. He pulled away from the parking space, and drove down to the diner he had specified as the meetup place.

When he arrived, he carefully stepped out of his car, triple-checking that it was locked, before stepping inside. Right away, he noticed the young boy sitting by himself, looking a bit anxious and worried. David stepped over to where the boy sat, sliding in across from him. "You must be Lucas." He said, trying his best to look friendly. "My name's David, I'm the one who called you here, and I believe the one you saved a few weeks ago." David glanced up past Lucas, noticing Damian with an unfamiliar woman. He called the two over, before explaining to Lucas why. "This is a friend of mine from work, named Damian. I invited him to hear our story, though he seems to have brought a guest of his own." David would gesture for the two of them to sit down, ready to get started.

---

Mitch awoke in his 'home' with a groan, tossing off the musty blankets that served to cover him in the night, and rolling off the mattress, climbing onto his feet. He stepped over to where a banged-up coffee maker sat, with a tin can that served as a pot. He scraped a few dregs into the top, using a piece of 1-ply toilet paper as a filter. He pulled a hip flask from his ragged jacket, unscrewing the top, and pouring the strong-smelling contents into where the water was supposed to go. Though the machine had no power flowing to it, one of Mitch's Garou gifts served well in this situation.

With a few button presses, dial twists, and some smacking the side of the machine, Mitch managed to get the coffee maker up and running, the gentle dripping echoing throughout the rusted-out RV. Swinging open the tattered screen door, Mitch knelt down and grabbed the copy of Occult Digest laying across the front steps. Mitch had an in with the printing company, so he always had access to new copies. Reading through it, he spoke to himself about the contents.

"Not true...Definitely true...He's a vampire...Mummies aren't native there...She's probably a Malkavian..."

Eventually, he found a story about recent local exorcisms, mentioning a boy with strange powers, and a nosey detective Mitch had heard about before. Mitch made a mental note to keep tabs on them both, before heading back inside just as the homemade Irish coffee finished. Mitch turned off the machine, took the can into his hand, and took a deep sip, before moving on to the rest of his morning routine.

Bobby groaned to himself as he stirred to consciousness in the backseat of the station wagon as it cruised through the streets of the unfamiliar city. He had never been to LA before, but his band, Splintered, had a few gigs coming up in the city, which happened to be fairly coincidental. Apparently there was a lot going on in the supernatural underbelly, and that's not something Bobby and his band, who were also a tight nit pack of Garou, wanted to miss. "We there yet?" He mumbled, sitting up and looking at two sitting in the front. His band and packmates, Jake and Sammy.

"Yeah man, there's a local Stomping Ground a couple of blocks away." Jake, the muscled young man behind the wheel replied, chucking a take away bag back to Bobby.

"Awesome." Bobby dug through the small take away bag, pulling out a cheeseburger, chomping it down rather quickly. "Is it close to the bar we're playing at tonight?"

"Thankfully, it is. Only walking distance." The lanky bassist in the passenger seat answered, poring over a map of the city. "We'll go see the local rabble and ask around, see if we can get any information about what's going on in the city, then go set up in the bar."

Lucas looked up when a man addressed him. This was the same man he'd seen in the picture online. He vaguely remembered the face. Lucas nodded and got up, following him to a table. He sat himself down silently as David mentioned having another friend there to meet. Lucas's eyes followed his to the man, accompanied by the woman who had approached him earlier.

The scarfed young man hid his hands on his lap under the table. He hadn't been prepared to deal with other people. Honestly, he hadn't been prepared for this at all. He went back to eyeing David with his dark stare. Was this man possessed? He certainly didn't act like it... But at the same time, he gave off a weird vibe. It was same unsettled feeling Lucas got right before every exorcism. He was almost certain that there was a demon near, and it could very well be inside of this man.

Lucas had never heard of a demon going dormant before, but he supposed anything was possible. When this was over, he needed to get in touch with Seymour and see what he thought. If Lucas's suspicion was correct, and David was still possessed, then Lucas wasn't sure if he was going to able to remove the demon on his own. He remembered very clearly the feeling of fighting that demon, how close he had come to losing to it. Lucas had never been possessed, despite having dragged countless demons into his own body. He didn't know what would happen if he was, and he really didn't want to find out.

@Metronome@DepressedSoviet@Letter Bee

"Hold up, there's a lost boy who might need some guidance." With that, the long-haired beauty in hiking clothes just turned and walked purposefully away.

"A lost boy?" Damien murmured curiously to the vacant space next to himself, feeling about as interesting as a sack of potatoes. It was all he could do but to stand watch as she went off, but perhaps he could see what child this was who was lost in a diner in the middle of the afternoon. He mused. It was probably some cute kid. Woman always like cute kids... Hey, wait a minute.

The person Priscilla had so avidly approached didn't look like a cute kid at all. In fact, the apparently homeless man she went up to looked to be about Damien's age. He was unhealthily thin, wearing dark, old clothing, and had half his face hidden like he was hiding years without dentistry. A knot twisted in the young detective's stomach as he realized Priscilla probably also thought of him as a mere "boy" as well, albeit better dressed. Did 2 years difference really define him as a child in her eyes? Damien stepped closer, allowing his burned pride to take a backseat to his growing curiosity. She was talking to this man, but for some reason, Damien couldn't hear anything. And it wasn't the music or the background chatter, but something was different. There was simply no sound at all, and unless this homeless man was lip-reading... Damien narrowed his eyes in a suspicious glare as he tried to figure out if he could trust his own senses.

Damien's date and the homeless "boy" seemed to talk briefly in this strange way, and she ended up giving him a religious memento, a small cross, looked like a letter-opener. Damien straightened his face before she turned around again and smiled at her as she returned. That silent talk she did was odd. Surely most people probably wouldn't have even noticed her mouth moving, but Damien wasn't most people. Not yet anyway. Strange talk aside, the fact that she was going out of her way to help weird people seemed to place her as one of those super-loving religious Christian types who run up to strangers to hug them and such. Damien was really beginning to doubt this match-up was a good one. Regardless, it was important to make the most of the evening.

"That was certainly friendly of you, heh." The two began to look for an open seat when suddenly, Damien recognized David entering at the door. "Oh hey, look. There's my boss. He just walked in. Come on, and I'll introduce you." Truly, Damien was thankful to have a reason to change subject and began moving toward David, who ironically, sat down right in front of the very same scarf-covered homeless man.

"You must be Lucas..." Damien heard the start of the conversation as he was waved over, and already his preconceived notions were being redefined.

Not forgetting his manors, he held a chair for Priscilla before seating himself. "Hello Mr. Jones, and Mr. Lucas. Yes, uh, Priscilla and I had a date. I.. hope it's alright. So... Saved you you say? Are you two old friends?" Damien played to the more casual interpretation of David's invitation, yet he began to wonder how personal or work-related this meeting might actually be. Inwardly, he hoped his new boss didn't think his mind wasn't in the work simply because he had brought a friend along. Being a detective meant a lot to him, and he certainly couldn't afford to get canned again.

"David..." Priscilla can see something strange from the man, something that both resonated with and repulsed her. But she chose to cast that aside as she was on edge now. "Well, it's nice to meet you; my name is Priscilla Brown, Female Priest of the Episcopalian Church. I'm Damien's current date, and he's proven himself to be good company." A coldness had entered her voice as she faced David, a wariness that came from facing potential danger.

"And yes; I'd like to hear your story as well, David." Priscilla then glanced at her glass of coffee, frustrated that the mass of sleepers around her would not allow her to defend herself without causing Paradox, the backlash that came when you went too far against the Consensus. But it was a mild gripe; she can get herself out of this situation if she wanted to.

Daring to use Forces once more to direct a whisper at David and Lucas, Priscilla would say to them, using her magic to 'curve' the sound so Damien couldn't hear.

"David, Lucas, I'm a Mage, and you two hold some power yourself. David, do not try and ruin the life of either of these young men, and Lucas, if you have supernatural abilities, you should be careful and not be alone without preparations. Notice that I'm trying to help," Priscilla would finish, then say, somewhat jovially:

"So, who wants me to buy the Bacon, while we listen to the story?"

@Wraithblade6@Metronome@DepressedSoviet