(Collab between Grec and I.)

It took Darby only a moment to remember the creepy son of a bitch's stubborn refusal, or perhaps inability, to speak, and the neonite sighed and grabbed for the patch-covered leather cut thrown across one arm of the worn couch. He was pretty sure he was never going to understand Nagloper.

"Alright, lead the way." The biker said, slipping on the vest and a pair of riding gloves. Darby walked out of the apartment and into the alleyway, where the giant bat-monster landed. The Sheriff reverted back to his human form, the term "human" being used very loosely to describe the 9 foot tall monster vampire. The Sheriff led Darby through the alleyways of Downtown L.A until he reached Venture Tower, and they went in through the back entrance as to not attract attention. They went up the elevator to the penthouse floor and saw Lacroix waiting for them.

"Ah, mister Darby I presume. The Camarilla has an important mission for you. We need you to retrieve the Ankaran Sarcophagus." Lacroix said. Darby had to struggle to keep the scowl from his face as he listened to Lacroix's 'hail fellow, well met' heartiness, arms folded over his chest. Oh, Lacroix could play up the Camarilla's act of all Kindred being equal, but he couldn't hide the edge in his tone, the contempt he had for the Brujah fledgling from his eyes. He'd never liked to suffer fools or the bourgeois cunts who treated him like shit they'd scrape off their shoe, and he normally would have happily put a few teeth down their throat. A Camarilla Prince, however, was not the normal sort, and even he wasn't stupid enough to invite that kind of trouble for sake of sticking it to the man. Still, he felt the need to slight him somehow, and was preparing to light up a cigarette when Lacroix gave him his job. The smoke fell from his lips.

"Are you shittin' me right now?" He said, beady eyes narrowing at the prince. This was either a test or a trap, and either way he didn't like where this was going. "You want me to fetch a goddamn sarcophagus?"

"The Sacrophagus is hidden deep within the Museum. You are not to kill any of the security guards there, we can't have mortals knowing the existence of the supernatural. Now, be off" Lacroix said, apparently content to leave it at that.Darby's eyes narrowed again, trying to read the man's face as he spoke. He couldn't keep the scowl from his face now.

"Why me? Way you're talkin' it sounds like this is the biggest find of the goddamn century. Like you oughta be sendin' some big badass like the sheriff here. So why ya sendin' me, the poor ol' neonite Brujah that's barely been Kindred for two years?"

"We need someone who can be inconspicuous. My Sheriff's skill set isn't exactly specializing in subterfuge. Now go." Lacroix said. Translation: "You're expendable, and I don't want to waste anyone I actually give a shit about on this."

Darby grunted shortly, reaching down to pick up his fallen smoke, striking a match to light it as he nodded up to the Prince. He really hated that frigging smug, oh so punchable face.

"Yessir, your highness." He said, his tone far from deferential as he started to walk out of the office. Well, he'd enjoy seeing that smug melt off the fucker's face when he came back with the sarcophagus. And this would be a great opportunity to see how his wraith did on the job...

At Santa Monica

Police swarm into the Santa Monica Pier for an investigation as Beach Bums look on. On the street light hangs a desecrated body, it has been torn to shreds in some horrific manner that could not have been done by any normal human. The police try to determine a cause of death, and the only conclusion they can come to is an animal attack, but what kind of animal would hang up a man like this after such a grizzly murder? The police are dumbfounded as they conclude their investigation and disperse.

Grünfeld Bach sits in the church hideout of the Society of Leopold, leading a prayer to the Catholic God with fellow hunters of the Society.

"Please, lord. Grant us the power to destroy the Servants of Satan tonight, and to cut off the head of the snake, the Archfiend Lacroix." They begin this chant as they burn incense, it is a most holy ritual. However, it is interrupted when a member of the society approaches Bach with news.

"Sir, we have news of a murder in Santa Monica. It seems to have been done by some foul creature of night. I advise that we send out hunters into the city, immediately. The police can't handle this themselves" Says the hunter.

"Alright, send them out at once. We search for this killer, and hunt for his head!" Bach commands his hunters into the night.

At Venture Tower, Lacroix's Office

As Darby left Lacroix's office, a new figure rides the elevator of Ventrue Tower. He arrives, timely, and steps into Lacroix's office.

"Ah there you you are, Mr. Sea. I have a mission for you. As you might know, there seems to be occult activity in the area. They seem to be involving normal humans into their activities. We can't be having mortals knowing about the existence of the supernatural, and I know you are the perfect man for the job, given your reputation and abilities. Now, please solve this problem for me and you'll be handsomely rewarded." Lacroix said.

"It shall be done." With these words, the entire room was darkened in a murky shadow, after a few seconds, the shadow faded and the man was gone.

"Those Lasombra fascinate me, I wish more of them were on the side of the Camarilla." Said Lacroix.

Tony Lee with Yukie

Tony Lee and Yukie ride in a cab out of Chinatown. They are escaping from their enemies, the Kuei Jin. Where they're headed, they do not know. They look for any watering hole or hotel they can stop at to make their base for the night.

Lucas sat in his chair silently, looking quite uncomfortable among the group of strangers. His dark eyes hardly wavered as they stared intently at David, not being too discrete at all. He only broke his stare when the woman, Priscilla, spoken to him and David using that weird voice trick. Lucas huffed as she warned him about being out and about. He could take care of himself. However, he didn't miss the words said to David. That was a pretty solid confirmation of his suspicions, as far as he was concerned. If the mage could see it too, then David must still have the demon in him somehow.

Lucas wasn't interested in sticking around to hear the story that he already knew. He couldn't risk this mage woman prying into his abilities any further, especially not with the demon possessed man right there with them. It appeared that said demon was dormant, but if it felt threatened by his presence, then it might decide to flee the man's body, or even kill him. If it got away, it could be weeks before Lucas caught up to it again. He needed to get home to tell Father Walter about this, and maybe even get Seymour involved.

Lucas stood up from his chair, so suddenly that his legs bumped the table and his chair screeched on the wood floors. A few people turned to look at them. He readjusted his scarf so that it was securely wrapped around his face and quickly turned to make his way out of the cafe. The sun was starting to set outside, and a couple police cars sped by the cafe with their lights flashing. Lucas paused to let them rush by before crossing the street. His mind was locked onto the thought of a powerful demon, likely capable of taking a human life, and possibly even his own should he try to face it alone, being on the loose.

Oh fuck. David's friend was highly offended. Damien blinked haplessly in shock as the man suddenly got up and began to storm off. Quickly, he tried to recover the situation. "Oh shit. I'm sorry Mr. Jones. I shouldn't have imposed like that. Look, Priscilla and I will leave. We're leaving. It's fine..." Anxiously, and apologetically, Damien got up and offered a hand to the woman. "Come on, Priscilla. This is a private meeting and I've really made a mistake. I'm sorry. We'll go someplace else, alright?"

@Wraithblade6@Metronome@Grec@DepressedSoviet

Priscilla wheeled at Damien and said, "It is not your fault!"

She was angry, first at Lucas for just up-and-leaving despite the danger that greeted young men with supernatural powers who went alone, then at David for putting Lucas at risk, and then at herself for being unable to do anything about it.

"Your employer just made a very big mistake, a mistake I cannot explain to you just yet. But let's wait for him to regain control of the situation, shall we?" Priscilla was arch in her anger, waiting for David to pull out some weird power from his ass to solve this entire fracas. If he didn't in a few minutes, she was going to storm off after Lucas herself; she may not be able to use Magic openly, but she still had twin pistols holstered at her belt...

In a parking lot, Simone sat in her car, the E-type Jaguar lit by dimming streetlights and the faint glow of the strip of motels and bars across the street. This part of town had cheap rent, and attracted businesses that kept long hour and asked few questions. It was hardly her preferred part of town, but she had to be here to prepare for the schemes coming later tonight. At the moment she was more bored than afraid of anything, a little bit of magic could sense those with ill intent around, and another little bit made it easy to fashion a few stacks hundred dollar bills which could smooth all sorts of more mundane problems.

She had put the word of the plan out through the usual channels, leaving the details vague. The message said that she had found a place of great potential power, a location where the boundary between the mortal world and the Umbral realms was paper thin. Mages knew it as a node, Garou called it a caern, but both would be interested. For now she had left out where it was, both to avoid competition and also to prevent the Tremere from catching on. They were clever schemers, and they had managed to keep this detail of their Chantry hidden for long enough, but they were prone to overestimating their own importance and power, overlooking interests that fell outside the sphere of their millenia of vampiric court intrigue.

If there was one group that Simone worried about most right now, it was those pesky men in black suits. Thankfully, Virtual Adept networks were usually secured against them, and the rumors among the Garou rarely fell into the their surveillance webs, but there was no way to be sure they wouldn't show up. All she could do was wait and rely on her senses (natural and supernatural) to alert her to the dangers. Someone would come by soon and ask her about the job, or even contact her with correspondence if they too had magic, but at this moment she did not know who it would be.

The sounds of the thriving city never stopped, even at night. As the rush hour died down, the roads still remained busy. People walked by him, some glancing warily at the young man with a half covered face. Lucas pressed on, not to be bothered with them. His mind was occupied elsewhere.

That's why, perhaps, the typically cautious exorcist didn't notice the two men following behind him, staying back by several steps. They waited until the sidewalk hit a odd spot of isolation, without the prying eyes of onlookers, to make their move. The two men glanced at each other knowingly, making sure the other understood. Then, they pounced.

Lucas jumped, startled as he was grabbed by both arms and dragged towards the road, there an unmarked van had been steadily driving alongside them. The back doors slid open. Lucas began to struggle, and the overhead street lights began to waver, then flicker. Then go dark. A bright, blinding light appeared between the willowy man's hands. It was like trying to look at a small sun; it burned the eyes of the two men trying to haul him away. The light grew bigger, then exploded into a bright flash of light. Anyone remotely close would have seen the spectacle. The street lights came back on for a second before Lucas tried to plant his heels and make another flash, hoping to draw attention to the scene.

But the men weren't having it. One grabbed his right hand and twisted it around and back, pulling Lucas down with it. His wrist made a sickening crunch as his bones twisted and finally broke. Lucas's breath came heavy and ragged; he couldn't cry out in pain, but it was obvious on his face.

"Do it again and I'll break the other one," The man snarled, his breath wafting with old cigarettes. Lucas was then quickly shoved head first into the van, in too much pain to try and fight back against the men who easily outweighed him anyway. His body hit the hard floor of the vehicle, and two more people grabbed him to hold him down while a thick zip tie was wrapped around his hands. It was pulled tight, pressing on his slowly swelling broken wrist. The only sound that came from him was heavy, panicked breathing. He scooted to press his back up against the back doors of the van, ready to try and kick at anyone who came close to him. The four other men in the van just watched, knowing that they had him trapped. One closed the door, and the van lurched forward as it began to drive to somewhere unknown.

Hector Sea

Hector emerged from the shadows out into the lobby of Ventrue Tower. Officer Chunk, the fatass piece of shit night guard noticed him coming out of the darkness.

"Oh, Mr...Sea is it? I didn't notice you coming out of nowhere like that!" He said with a nervous inflection in his voice.

"You know I used to play football, was on the varsity team you know! I'm no good at sneaking around like that, got too much power in my steps!" Officer Chunk said.

"Ugh...ok, Chunk. Have a good night." Hector said. Hector walked out of Ventrue Tower and into the streets of L.A. He had a few leads of where to find more about this cult, and he walked the streets for a while. He rounded a corner and saw a man with a scarf covering half of his face. He could sense from this man's aura and that there was something holy about it. Hector wondered if he was some Hunter who had the power of True Faith or something else entirely. He spied on him as he walked down the street, wondering what he was up to. Suddenly, some guys jumped him and threw him into the back of van. Hector wondered if these were cult members and looked around the street to make sure nobody saw him, and used Shadowstep to teleport into the shadow of the van to ride along with them to their destination.

Tony Lee with Yukie

Tony and Yukie stepped out of the hotel, they had checked into their room for the night. They still weren't ready to call it a night, and they went out to the venue next door where they heard a band was going to be playing. They entered the seedy place, there was smoke floating in the air and people dotting all corners of the building. A stage was set up, where the band was set to play. They weren't out yet to play, and Yukie told Tony that she needed to get some air away from all the smoke. She left him in the place as she walked out into the parking lot.

Yukie walked around the parking lot, taking in the fresh air as she kept her ears perked for the band to start playing. Then, she spotted something odd. She saw someone sitting in a lit car, she had stacks of hundred dollar bills and she was duplicating them somehow. Cautiously and with one hand kept on the sheath of her sword, she approached the car and knocked.

"Dou suru tsumori desu ka, be you man or demon?" Yukie asked the person in the car.

@Metronome@tanderbolt@Zaxter996

@Wraithblade6@Metronome@Grec:

On seeing David not move, Priscilla would tell Damien:

"Dang it all to heck! It seems that your boss is keeping secrets!" The Mage then used Correspondence to spread her senses to just outside the diner, using the letter opener she gave Lucas as a reference point to find the boy just as he was being abducted.

So he has powers after all, Priscilla said, before saying to Damien, "The kid's in danger! Don't ask how I know this, but I'm going off and chasing after him; I have a car."

And with that, Priscilla began running off towards her vehicle, hoping to follow Lucas before it was too late. If Damien followed her, Priscilla would let him in, so that she can have a partner for the chase.

The company in the van remained silent as they sped towards their destination. Lucas remained curled into a ball with his back pressed against the doors. His hand had swelled up, gaining an angry red color. Any bump or sharp turn they made caused the willowy man to take in a sharp, painful breath.

About fifteen minutes into the drive, and the van seemed to heading towards the scarier side of town. The buildings became more dilapidated and the people out and about looked far less friendly. The road was rougher. The van hit a pothole so deep that it sent everyone inside bouncing. Lucas took another sharp breath as his bony bottom and back hit against the hard interior of the van. A soft, metallic clatter caught the attention of the other men in the back. The letter opener that he had shoved into his pocket had fallen out. One man moved to grab it, and Lucas took the opportunity to rear back and kick him in the face. The hard sole of his work boots crunched against the man's nose, and blood started to stream down his face.

There was a dogpile on Lucas faster than he could blink. Loud cursing and heavy fists pummeled him.

"You want to try that shit again?" The man with the now broken nose snarled, kicking Lucas in the gut. "I'll make that fucking ugly face of yours even uglier." In the rain of kicks and punches, along with his own struggling, Lucas's scarf had come undone. As of right now, it was the least of his concerns.

The van slowed as it finally came to a stop outside of a scary looking warehouse. It didn't look like this place had been used for legal activities in years. The driver got out and went around back to open the doors. Their captive was hauled out by his armpits. Lucas managed to get his feet under him, but every part of him hurt. He dug his heels into the gravel, but that didn't last long. He was easily out muscled here.

"Get moving or we'll drag you," One man said in a nasty tone.

The small pack spent an hour or two talking with the local Bone Gnawers, who were convened in an abandoned parking complex for the moment. It wasn't too eventful, no one seemed to know much about what was going on, although they learnt something that made Bobby's lips turn to a scowl. There was a current treaty with the local vampires. Bobby growled to himself softly, feeling sick to his stomach at the very thought. He didn't voice his feelings, but he hated vampires. More than most things. He had a particularly angry songs about that hatred, covered by a thin veil of metaphors of course.

"Vampires?! Really? Is that really how low the rabble is scooping?!" Bobby exclaimed furiously as the trio got back into their vehicle. His fists were clenched tightly, obviously livid.
"Calm it, Bobby..." Jake said in a calm, level-headed manor as he started the car, driving down the road to the bar they were playing at. "I hate leaches as much as you do, but we don't always have to be at war with them. What help does mindless war ever do?"
"It certainly make me feel better." Bobby retorted gruffly, although he made an effort to try to calm himself. "I just wish we learnt more about what's going on here..."
"About that..." Sammy chimed in with a smirk on his face. "I actually heard about someone who apparently found a Caern somewhere in the city. They gave me their number and I said we'd check it out."
"Alright! Nice one Sammy, now we've got something to do between shows. Give them a call after the show." Bobby replied, actually managing a smile as they turned into the parking lot behind the bar. That news definitely brightened his mood. They loaded their gear in, setting straight up on stage since they were the first band of the night. It was empty at this point, but it started to fill up quite steadily as it got closer to kick off.

Bobby looked out from backstage at the crowd before they got on stage. It had filled out quite nicely. He was pleasantly surprised, jumping on the spot a few times and stretching his arms. "You ready boys?" He asked his brothers who were doing similar warm-ups, and both responded enthusiastically. "Let's do this then." He raised his beer bottle, and the other two touched their bottles to his. "To Franky!" They saluted before downing their beers. Their pre-show ritual. They each cracked open another beer before enthusiastically taking the stage. Bobby grabbed the microphone, setting his beer down next to one of the on-stage speakers. "What's up, L.A? We are Splintered from New York, hope you fuckers are ready to get rowdy!"

With a nod from Bobby, Sammy started with a slow, chuggy riff on his guitar, the beefy, distorted sound booming loudly from his amp setting the mood for Jake to come crashing in with a heavy hitting drum beat, kicking off the slow and brutal opening track, perfect to get the crowd warmed. Bobby's vocals kicked in, raw anger and emotion tearing from his vocal chords, and his passionate performance adding to the visual spectacle. Both Bobby and Sammy were wild on stage, thrashing around violently, hopefully encouraging the crowd to do the same. But they were more than anger and crazy stage presence. They had skill too. When Bobby was doing more than belting wild, angry screams into the mic, it was obvious he had a beautiful voice, though he didn't often let it show. And the musicianship delivered by the other two was more than proficient. Sammy's fingers surfed the fretboard of his guitar with accuracy, and Jake's furious and lightning fast onslaught on the drums was definitely something.

Tony Lee with Yukie

Tony lit up a smoke to fit in with the rest of the crowd and relax as he waited for the band to play. He listened in on the chatter around the bar, hearing about how the band was from New York and they were as hardcore as it gets. Tony was usually one for peace and serenity, but he did like his fair share of brutality now and again. Among the chatter, he swore he heard some people praising God. Tony was bewildered how any holy men would be in a seedy place like this, but he put the thought aside as the band came out to play. The three men on stage cracked open a beer and began chugging them down. Quite the ritual, Tony thought.

"What's up, L.A? We are Splintered from New York, hope you fuckers are ready to get rowdy!" The main singer said on the microphone. Tony noticed something...musky smelling coming off of them. Either they had been playing with some filthy dog or it was something else entirely. As the slow guitar opened up the song, the drums came crashing down as the vocalist began to sing. Tony could feel the vibrations of anger in the air, the raw emotion from the singer was simply palpable. He could sense the man and his band were outcasts on the fringe of society, and they put their anger at the world into their songs. Tony admired the actually melodious singing from the leader, cutting through the chaos of the music elegantly.

"FOR THE HOLY SPIRIT! Return to hell were you belong, dogs of Satan!" Voices cut through the music as a crowd of men with swords and guns started shooting the air and slaughtering people left and right. They were bum rushing the stage and Tony realized what the holy chanting was coming from. The Society of Leopold. A female hunter appeared behind Tony and drew a sword on him.

"I can smell you, monster!" Tony casually grabbed her arm and set her on fire with his gift. He watched as she squirmed and rolled around on the floor. Tony ducked into covet and tried to sneak to the exit. Meanwhile, Yukie heard the gunfire and was shocked. She knocked on the window again, asking for help from the person in the car.

Hector Sea

The van came to a stop as the men carried the battered and bruised guy, now revealed to have no mouth into the warehouse. The darkness Hector was occupying flew and shaped it's way to the entrance of the warehouse, and dissipated into Hector's body. Hector looked inside at the warehouse and listened in on the conversation.

"You've been a real thorn in our side. Tell us, what did you do with our lord Cidahl?" The man said to the faceless man. Hector had heard of Cidahl, he was a demon of immense power. This was it, these had to be the cultists. Hector casually walked into the warehouse.

"So, you guys are apart of the cult I've been sent to take care of?" Hector said.

"Who the FUCK are you? Get the fuck outta here! Boys, go escort him into a bodybag!" The men walked towards Hector, and as one of them came to punch him, his hand floated through Hector's body.

"What the FUCK?" Said the cultist.

"Hmph." Hector said unenthused, appearing behind their leaders shadow. Hector lifted up the man with one hand by the neck, and stared into his eyes.

"Tell me, where is your base?" Hector said, peering into his eyes with a dominating glare.

"It's in Santa Monica, in a beach house!" The cultist said, obeying Hector's dominate.

Simone did not bother to look at Yuki as she spoke "If there are demons, it is because the designs of man have brought them into this world. Based on the present situation, I think my plans are not the ones that you should be most concerned about at the moment." Senses told her about the carnage within the structure, natural and supernatural of such strength that it was impossible to ignore. Still, Simone's face remained an unchanging mask of calm, even as she made preparations to leave.

Of course she knew that Yukie was asking for help, but it was not in her nature to offer an obvious gesture. She continued "It's tragic how much time we spend teaching children that demons are the source of our problems, as if they can only be the result of some outside force rebelling against the norms of the universe. The world has no will or grand design of it's own." By a coincidence to perfect to be mere chance without outside aid, a taxi driver pulled into the lot, tired from his long shift and ignorant of the danger. He stepped out of the car to stretch. "That is not to say that it lacks a sense of humor." Simone pointed to it with one finger, suggesting the obvious benefits of procuring it as a means of escape. She started her own car, getting ready to roll out of the parking lot and expecting some of those escaping to follow her.

Priscilla's car pulled up just behind the van as Hector made his appearance. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Priscilla used Forces to bend light and sound around herself, rendering her invisible and inaudible as she snuck towards where Lucas was (presumably) still held by the cultists.

While Hector made for a good distraction - Priscilla had figured out from the vast amounts of Quintessence in his blood that the man was a Vampire - the female priest knew to stay away from potential danger when it wasn't necessary. Priscilla would then lightly touch Lucas's shoulder, and using Correspondence, as well as the fact that the people in the Cult won't generate Paradox as they believed in Magic, the woman would teleport herself and the young man (and Damien if he was still there) to the basement of her church.

Oh, and she also summoned her enchanted letter opener back to her with more teleportation just before doing that.

@Wraithblade6@Metronome@Grec

Lucas was, of course, silent as the cultists began to demand where their demon lord had gotten off to. The scrawny man gave away nothing, knowing full well that they would kill him whether he gave up information or not. As his persistent silence went on, the cultists grew more aggravated. One grabbed him by the front of his sweater and shook him.

"Do you think this is a game?!" He bellowed into Lucas's ear. Through the now ringing in his ears, Lucas could hear the scrape of metal on concrete. One of the men picked up a rusty crowbar and began to approach them. Lucas remained frozen to the spot, unable to fight, and unable to flee the grip of the man who held onto him.

Then, behind him, a new man strolled in. His voice made Lucas jump, and the cultists whipped their heads around to look at him. The one holding onto Lucas let go to approach him angrily.

Lucas was about to turn and make a run for it when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He jumped and whirled around, only for the warehouse to be suddenly gone and replaced by what looked like a dark, dull basement. Lucas's wild, dark eyes landed on the face of the woman from the cafe, Priscilla. The relief from the man was tangible. His willowy body trembled, his heart beating out of his chest from the whole ordeal. Lucas lowered himself to the floor, afraid that he would fall if he remained on his feet. His hands were still zip-tied in front of him, his broken wrist looking nasty, swollen, and purple.

It was in an interlude between two songs that the Society started their attack, and Bobby snarled as he barely moved out of the way of an oncoming bullet. This wasn't the first time that the trio had dealt with Hunters, so it's not like they were unprepared. He and the other two weaved backstage, where they had counter-measures waiting for them. Sammy grabbed a duffel bag, opening it and throwing an assault rifle each to Bobby and Jake. They weren't going to shift unless they had to. "Alright boys, be careful of civilians, head straight to the exit, and straight to the car." The trio nodded to each other, taking a moment to prepare before moving back out of the backstage green room.

Bobby held the front, assault rifle in hand, dodging between any pieces of cover he could find. He wasn't the best shot, but he was capable, squeezing the trigger whenever his crosshairs fell over a Hunter. Jake watched the rear, staying low. He was a better shot than Bobby, though he definitely excelled in close combat, the butt of his rifle meeting the skulls on any hunter stupid enough to get close. Sammy was much quicker, wielding two pistols instead. As a Ragabash, he was naturally agile, dodging and weaving as he put bullet after bullet into oncoming hunters with pretty decent aim. Hopefully their combined skills were enough to get them out of there.

Hector Sea

The cultists started to surround Hector. They demanded that they put their leader down. Hector obliged. Hector opened up his mouth out of it came a horrific, murky darkness pouring out like vomit. It flew into the air and into the orifices of the cultists, they began to shake violently as their blood started pouring out of their eyes, mouths, nose and etc. They writhed in pain on the ground as they squirmed, the blood from their bodies being drained. The blood raised into the air as it all came into Hector, restoring his Blood Pool. Hector looked at the dead cultists, scoffed and headed back to Ventrue tower.

The lights came out in Lacroix's office again. Lacroix knew who it was, and looked behind his shoulders as the lights came back on.

"So I'm assuming you've made some progress into the Cult?" Lacroix asked.

"Yes, they're hiding out in a beach house in Santa Monica." Hector said.

"Good, I've arranged for your own personal transportation. Here is a driver's license. Now go to Santa Monica" Lacroix said.

Hector took the license and disappeared back into the shadows.

Tony Lee

Tony ducked and dived between tables and to the exit. Some Society members were blocking the exit. Tony opted to not shift into his war form and shift into his Near-Man form instead. With a few swift punches Tony knocked out the two Society members blocking the exit and headed out the door. As Tony headed out into the parking lot, Yukie spotted the 7 feet tall Tiger man and assumed it was Tony. She drove up to him and Tony entered the car.

"We follow that girl, she has strange powers!" Yukie said. Yukie slammed on the gas and started to follow Simone.

"I wish I had healing powers," spoke Priscilla as she used more telekinetic force to sever the bonds holding Lucas, before taking out her phone and calling an ambulance. She would then lead the young man outside, after giving him a new scarf, and then wait. Once the ambulance came, the Female Priest would say:

"I remember you now; you're the ward of 'the competition'," by that she meant Father William. "I don't want to meet that guy, so, I'll be leaving you alone to the paramedics for now."

And with that, the paramedics would pick Lucas up, begin administering first aid, and drive off.

@Wraithblade6@Metronome@Grec

As Priscilla left, Lucas held up his good arm, his hand outstretched. He didn't want to be left alone; even if his only other option was a woman he didn't really care much for. She had still saved his life. But once she was gone, he couldn't stop her. Lucas huddled on the doorstep of the church. He shivered, somehow still cold even with a scarf and sweater, and mostly just scared. He jumped when the lights of the ambulance pulled into the parking lot. Instinctively, he burrowed his face into the scarf he was given.

"We found our guy; he's alone. Bringing him to the truck," One of the EMTs said into a walkie talkie as he got out and approached. "Hey buddy. What happened?" He referred the question to Lucas, who did nothing but stare at him wide eyed. The EMT approached him and pointed to his wrist. "Can I look at that?"

Lucas hesitated, then offered up his swollen wrist. "Looks broken," The EMT said, mostly to himself and to his partner. The other one, an older woman, seemed to gather that Lucas was too nervous to follow them without some coaxing. She approached and knelt down by him.

"Hey hun," She said softly, "We're going to take you to the hospital; you'll be safe there. Did you call PD?" She turned her head back towards the man to ask the question. The man nodded.

"They'll be waiting at the hospital."

The woman turned back to Lucas. "Come on with us, sweetheart." Lucas shakily stood, his willowy frame being held up in part by the woman taking him under his good arm. "What happened to you?" When Lucas didn't answer, she moved to pull down his scarf. Naturally, he jerked away, but the woman got her fingers under it and pulled. "Oh my god," She gasped. Her partner, who had started to head back towards the truck, turned back and stopped in his tracks.

"Uh...hey Tuck, what exactly was this call for again?" He asked into his talkie.

"Assault, why?" The third man, still in the truck, replied.

"I think there might be something else going on here."

____________________________________________________

The ride to the hospital was too long and too odd. The EMTs kept giving him quick side glances. He kept his scarf on, and had done his best to re-situate it with one hand. Upon arriving at the hospital, he was quickly overwhelmed by nurses. No one had seen anything like him before. Someone just born without a mouth? No scars, no burns, just the way he was born? They started asking him questions about where he was hurt, and really it was only his wrist that he cared about. Once the initial check in process was over, a police officer walked in to ask him question about who had attacked him and why. Lucas just sank further and further into the thin mattress of the stretcher. Finally, he was given a blanket to cling to and was asked for any phone numbers that they could call.

Lucas quickly wrote down Father Walter's cell phone number. He refused to let them do anything else until the priest arrived. Any time a nurse tried to come in to start and IV on him, he would grab the kit and launch it across the room. This earned him a scolding by the hospital security, who said that if he kept throwing things, they would have to restrain him. Luckily, around that time, Father Walter showed up.

His face showed deep concern. He hadn't even realized that Lucas had left the church; it wasn't like he'd let anyone know. And now, Lucas just turned up beaten? Who would do such a thing?

"Lucas," Father Walter said in a stern voice. "Let them do what they need to do."

The thin young man looked up, and quickly held out his good arm towards the priest. Father Walter approached and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm glad you're okay. I just got a call that you were in the emergency room; I almost had a heart attack."

Lucas looked away from him, the guilt starting to set in. Father Walter pulled up a plastic chair and sat by the stretcher. He held onto Lucas's bony hand, which was surprisingly cold, and kept him calm while the nurses came in to finally get their job done. Father Walter answered what questions he could about Lucas's medical history, but he really didn't know a whole lot. He had found Lucas as an odd little boy, about nine years old, and took him in. Father Walter, having become a priest after his wife died, had never had children. And when he found Lucas, he knew what God needed him to do. Although his ward was could be very difficult at times, he was a gifted young man. And Father Walter had come to think of Lucas as if he were his own son. It certainly frightened him to think that Lucas was out making enemies with the types of people to do this sort of thing.

Once his arm was re-set and placed in a cast, Lucas was sent home a bit doped up and a little more relaxed. Father Walter drove him back to the church in silence, letting him fall asleep against the door of the passenger side.

Collaboration with Letter Bee

Lucas Lee would not shared how he learned this fact, but one of the indistinguishible lowrises in Santa Monica's sprawling office parks held something different. If you approached at the right hour and told the security guard the right phrase, he'd lead you to an empty office, perfect for having a conversation with the technological equivalent of a ghost.

Lee would sit down on the available chair, and wait for the local Technocrat's projection to manifest. After a pause, the Episcopalian Bishop would then say:

"I found a new type of what your faction would call a 'Reality Deviant'. Are you interested?"

The flickering image the machine in the corner projected had little color or details, making it look like the figure was in silhouette. Looking at the build it appeared female, but anything more specific was tough to discern from the darkness. She spoke "We value information, but each item is only worth so much. If I had more time I'd refer you to some of Shannon's theorems, but my agenda is rather busy. Much of what we know is private, if you are claiming to have found something unknown to us and significant, I am willing to discuss this matter further."

Lee nodded, and pulled out a dossier from his robe, holding it up to what he presumed was a scanner in the conference table. The reason he didn't use a USB was because the Technocracy might mistake it for a mystic cyberattack. This dossier contained data about Lucas, his exorcisms, and his powers. Not merely that, but also contained were an account of Priscilla's encounter with the cult of Cidhal...written before Prisicilla even reported it to her superior.

"Basically, a new type of sapient supernatural who can suck 'Demons' into himself and destroy them, and manifest Light. He also has attracted the attention of demon cultists and a Vampire," Lee summarized. "Significant enough?"

The figure absorbed the information unnaturally fast, pausing for only a moment before replying. "What you have given us is interesting, though we will verify it to root out any falsehoods present. I will admit, it deals with matters that have been recieving less resources at present. Are there other matters you wish to discuss?"

"Currently, the Camarilla are more powerful than us Traditions, and thus more of a threat, am I right?" was Lee's answer.

"I will not comment on matters regarding our current strategic position. We remain interested in the activities of both groups" she said

A nod from Lee, before he said, "Well, all I'll just say is that we've received...news that the Camarilla are preparing something major, something that might cause a war between the varied factions of bloodsuckers in the city. Not to be optimistic, but they might be exposing themselves to cracks in their structure..."

She had another short response. "We are monitoring the situation. If you have anything related to that matter, I invite you to share it now."

"The Camarilla have acquired an ancient relic, the Ankaran Sarcophagus, which, despite their disavowal of 'Noddist' Legends, they think contains an Antedelluvian," Lee spoke plainly.

"Thank you for being willing to share with us. Is there anything else you know about this matter" She replied, again showing little emotion.

"Nothing more," Lee was sincere; although it was unknown if he would have told anything more if he knew. He then checked his watch, before saying, "I think I used up my free hours; there's a sermon I have to preach soon."

"Once again, thank you. You may leave the same way you came. If you wish to reach us again, ask the security guard for your phone on your way out." She finished, knowing that the guard had not asked for his phone in the first place.