Master of Maîtres De Sang
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Post by Gates on Sept 15, 2015 4:06:02 GMT
Gates sat the old fashioned glass down on the table between himself and the local RPIT leader. Fixing the man with a look of full attention he ignored the bar patrons that floated about them without a clue that history was being made. He’d made it a matter of public knowledge that he would never meet directly with any law enforcement agent in any capacity. It was such a hard and fast rule that long before this one cut his wisdom teeth NOPD had given up attempting. Instilling a wall as thick and true as the Great Wall of China itself. Looking to the glass between them he smiled. For all of Christian’s faults he knew how to make a cocktail that one would feel impoverished for having not tasted. It was backed with enough olfactory savoriness that even simply inhaling its potent contents one would feel lighter in ones grasp of reality.
Gates continued meeting the man’s gaze careful to keep the otherness that made the core of his being from leaking in. “ Monsieur even if I were of a mind,” He began using common English as a way to make things easier on those he was sure listening in now and would replay his words back over the next few decades. “What you're discounting is the hunger. It is unlike anything you've ever or will know. It will eat you from the inside. But you could be in control. It is our greatest weapon, and our enemies are coming over the next horizon, thinking to waltz over our corpses to take all that is and ever could be ours. But that eventuality is something we cannot allow to happen, because the one thing that stands in their way is us. And make no mistake, we each and every one is one unit, one body one whole. We are family. Family is not determined by blood, but by who you fight for, and who will fight for you. In our greatest moments, we will feed on the blood of our enemies. And we die, while being reborn, and we feed again knowing we are also the enemy dying and reborn with each taste of that sweet nectar. We are damned, cursed, and immortal and we cannot be defeated.”
Gates paused allowing his words to crawl into the psyches of everyone listening. He knew that they would have more than enough reason to never attempt to reach out asking for what they were asking for. How dare they he thought even while the notion of it teased at something his maker would have attempted had he been granted enough waking hours. He knew the old demon was still amongst the living even while wrapped in dreams borne of his imprisonment. If he allowed himself to throw wide his full shields and control he was sure he would heed the call for aid that was still floating on night winds darker than Mephistopheles soul.
Gates lifted the glass taking in its amber wormwood in one gulp. Sitting it down before the officer signifying their first and only meeting was over. The man was purposefully ignoring the clues which were all around him. He was attempting to marshal his faculties. He was attempting to rebut to redouble yet falling short. Gates chose that moment to make things more than apparent as he lifted the glass high once more as if he were drunkenly asking for another. Letting the glass slip from his hand the detectives’ eyes followed even as his slow human reaction fought to catch the glass. Gates used that moment of distraction speeding from the table to the bar where he might as well have become invisible amidst the damned, the blood freaks and wannabes lingering there.
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Post by Delaine Astin Vincent on Sept 18, 2015 19:21:45 GMT
Del sat listening with everything he was worth. The master of the city was in rare form. Yet the fact he’d been willing to meet at all said something. Perhaps he was on the right track and with the right amount of persistence he would get what the departments talking heads wanted so badly. The influx of vampire laden drug had become an epidemic and they were desperate. He was against cover-ups but in the light of over forty people OD’ing he had no choice but to side with the greater good over his own squeamishness. If they scared the population at large there was no way they would be able to recover. The usual means of curtailing or at least brown-bagging a drug problem didn’t work when the effects of the drug hid themselves amidst the other problems of the city.
The master actually taking a drink surprised him. He had been taught that Vampires could not eat or drink. Yet here the master of the city was taking a belt of a three hundred dollar cocktail. That alone was enough to shake his resolve the disappearing trick was another. He knew vampires were fast but no vampire was that fast, not without mind tricks. Yet he was sure the Master had not pulled any wool over his eyes. The contacts he was wearing had been designed with the strongest psychic energies in mind and were currently in use by the Feds. They’d been certified proof against vampires in excess of three hundred years. Yet the Master of New Orleans who couldn’t top out at anything more than two hundred was able to vanish. Del gave himself credit for holding his lunch even as a slight tremble washed over him. He was on the clock yet the drink in his hand was the best option he had. He couldn’t drain it in one belt as the Master of the City had but two chugs and he was on his feet moving as quick as his feet would carry him out of the bar.
Del moved quickly towards the waiting van where the data from this fandango was being compiled. He didn’t bother to hide his steps or his aim. He knew in his heart of hearts the Master knew the meeting was being recorded. So he removed the wire and the glasses. Stepping into the van he looked at the tech who was shaking his head as if he’d been hit with a mickey one time to many in all before being shanghaied before they took effect. Sighing he sat down in the open seat bracing for the bad news.
“Not one legible audible remark until his speech and then even that is pitched so low that it will take me a week trimming it. I don’t know how he was able to do it but all we have is the video and you, boss.”
Del sighed pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache that sprung whole cloth from the failure this meeting was. The master of the city had met with him only to show that he wouldn’t get involved. He wouldn’t allow his vampires to be deputized. He wouldn’t allow his Kiss to work with the police. He just wouldn’t and that infuriated Del like nothing else had in a very long time.
Perhaps he would try to find Xanatos again. In fact he knew he would. His best bet to do so would be the psychiatrist he’d been palling around with a few months ago. Drawing his phone he thought better of it simply shaking his head at the tech and getting out of the van. A call wouldn’t do he’d might as well drop in on the man and speak face to face. Sadly even as he was sure he was busy Del doubted even an overworked VA psychiatrist would still be in office at this hour. Luckily he knew a few bushes to beat.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2015 2:43:59 GMT
Tiber had watched the phone ring. He looked at the number that came up, it was not one he recognized. but after a second the face popped up, it was the detective. Tiber was in session he was treating a paranoid, PTSD patient. The one thing he could not afford was to take the call. So while to patient was laying on the leather couch, Tiber quickly shifted gears asking Sgt. Tim Vance to close his eyes and recount to Tiber the last time he could clear remember a dream that he had. To tell the date and the nature of the dream. The Sgt would tell him that the last clear dream he had was three weeks ago. Meaning that the poor Man was drinking even night for three weeks. The dream was sadly standard fare, battlefield along dead bodies. The trama of the even left scars on the man psyche. He was in one to many battles, he had saw one to many dead. And his mind crumbled. In on itself.
Tiber would not touch his phone as the Sgt had believed that the government was watching him. and that the CIA was out to get him. His stories that he told to give himself safety was what Tiber was slowly trying to peel away. To get the man to understand that he was not on the battlefield, he could lower his guard. It was a slow process. A little at a time peeling away at the emotions that kept him trapped in a moment, that horrid moment that his mind screamed out no more, and shattered. Tiber needed to get the man to understand that he would not be able to get back into society until he was able to let that moment go. And reprogram himself. He needed to see that within himself as telling him would never work.
As the phone went to voice mail, and finally silent. Tiber was glad the man was so absorbed in his own world that he had not seen anything else. That happened around him.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 27, 2015 2:46:05 GMT
Tiber sat down in his leather wingback chair. Tiber leaned the chair back against the desk while putting his feet up against the windowsill. Taking a deep breath he looked back at the desk. The phone was still sitting on the desk face down. Sighing Tiber took a deep breath and picked it up. Dialing the last number that had called, Tiber felt suddenly weary, he looked at the phone and saw that the caller was the detective.
“Detective I was in session, what can I help you with?”
Tiber would like nothing more than to avoid any communication with the police, however even Tiber knew that to keep up appearances he needs to be cleaner than anyone else. Tiber knew that this was why he was able to hide in plain sight. If he is to get rid of the detective he had to do it in such a way that the detective would not think or even assume to presume that Tiber was trying to get rid of him.
Tiber licked his dry lips as he listened, He wanted a beer suddenly but he figured that the detective would not want to go for a drink. So he would just have to do as he had to, to deal with the Detective. If he was lucky it will not take too much of his time and he cant get on with his day.
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Post by Delaine Astin Vincent on Sept 27, 2015 3:19:20 GMT
As his phone went off Del nearly jumped out of his skin he was a few blocks form the bar where he first met the head shrink. The fact he was calling made Del’s skin crawl. He looked about himself to insure he was alone. Well as alone as anyone could ever be in the Big Easy during tourist season. He moved out of the flow of the sidewalk traffic and waited a beat. The line open between them he listened and found the other end quiet save for the doctors even calm breathing. Scanning the sidewalk again he leaned against the doorway placing his back against as much firmament as he could.
He calmed his voice as his eyes flited over the crowds filtering past him . “Well hey there Doc; I was just beginning ta look for you. You seen hide or hair of your witchy eyed pal Xanatos?”
Del was surprised by how calm his voice actually sounded considering. Even after all this time dealing with Xanatos and operating in the realms he did he was unnerved by coincidence when it built up like traffic over the Causeway during rush. He had the heebee’s and the jeebee’s so bad he could swear the woman across the street thirty feet ahead of him was eyeballing him. He wasn’t sure why but something was just not right with her or the way she was watching his general area.
“ Hey Doc…” Del said preparing to move from his relative safety. “ Uh you mind maybe we meet up somewhere and talk some ideas over? Where ya at I’ll meet ya…”
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Master of Maîtres De Sang
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Post by Gates on Sept 27, 2015 3:40:45 GMT
Gates watched the RPIT officer and walking anomaly leave Christians. The moment he did he nodded to the newest vampire to the Kisses ranks. A once brilliant computer securities expert that was cursed with a terminal disease. Gates was not generally swayed enough to allow the creation of any vampires. He would much rather cull strength from other Kisses as a way to insure the city was gaining and not simply spreading the blessing of the damned in barren soil. Especially with the more modern thinking denizens of the world. As such he’d had several locksteps placed one of which be not only was oathed as normal but an extra layer of mental suggestion worked into place. He would forget what he was asked after carrying out the orders. It made moments like this so delicious to the inner monster he rarely gave reign.
The highly illegal bluejacking that was done on the NOLA’s RPIT department paid dividend snearly everyday and was a double Trojan as it allowed the Kiss when Gates chose to make calls from various police numbers. As a show of strength Gates simply had the Detective Astins phone call all of the numbers in his contacts folder. A simple mass call for no reason whatsoever. Across the city every officer in RPIT’s contacts would begin calling them back and jamming their lines. Gates held no illusions that most of the officers would bear many repercussions from this night.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 27, 2015 3:45:47 GMT
Tiber eyes looked up at the ceiling. “Well… I am at my office, however why don’t I just meet you wherever you would like as I try not to stay within the confines of my office longer than I have to after I see my last client.” Tiber in truth loved his office, he just didn’t want the police in his private space. He would much rather meet the cop at the gates of hell that his office. Looking out of the window, he saw someone looking up at his window.
“And to answer your question, no I had not seen Xanatos, as far as I know he took off to handle some job outside the city limits.” Tiber had knew that Xanatos, had indeed left to handle a job. What was being held back was that Xanatos had returned and that this had took place months ago. However, he was being truthful He had not seen Xanatos in a few weeks. Tiber figured that his magic wielding friend would blow back into the town when it was time for his friend to come back. Pushing back off of the wall Tiber stood to his full height and began walking to the exit. He was heading to meet the cop.
As he sat in the car, he started it while listening for the name where he could meet the cop. He had hoped that the location would not have a heavy lycanthrope population as the last thing he needed was to be seen with a cop by one of the other Rexes. So far a few of the lions in the city had actually came to him and spoke with him. The women were a bit protective of themselves, the fear was based on the treatment that they had been subjected to. More than one had been little more than a sexual slaves. To the more dominate. As they had come to know Tiber more they had come to relax more.
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Post by Delaine Astin Vincent on Oct 7, 2015 8:34:44 GMT
As the woman moved on Del fell into her shadow. “Your office...I suppose that would be far too professional for what I’d like to propose. I’m not far from Xanatos’s haunt. We can meet there and have a drink or three. It’s been one of those nights and I could use the insight of someone not connected with my beat.” Del stopped walking again as the mystery woman made her way inside the bar where he was headed. He’d been a cop in New Orleans too long to believe in coincidence. He knew something was amiss. He wasn’t sure what the night had in store so he freed the draw on his service piece.
“You’ve been in the Big Easy for awhile so I know ya know your way around. I can’t wait to see you Doc.” Del made his way into the bar taking a shot from the tub girl as he passed. The witchy woman that’d caught his eye was meeting a group of twentysomething witches at Xanatos’ usual table. He had to admit the coincidences were piling up fast and hard. It made his skin crawl and vibrate as if it had a life of its own. He didn’t make eye contact with any at the table instead he made his way past them to the far corner of the bar where he could keep them in his periphery. The only thing worse than the feeling he had was the fact there was nothing he could do until the shoe dropped. Hopefully he would be in a position to act before both hit the ground.
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