2012.09.16.Fire.Water.Burn

Once again, the call has come through that Markus needs assistance doing good works for the Cainites of Shady Grove. He has summoned quite a few, but unfortunately, duties at home preclude most from coming. When you arrive at Smoke Jumpers it is almost empty. This being a Sunday evening, most of the longshoremen that populate it are at home with their families. Markus is waiting in his customary position, this time reading an archaic translation of the bible, of all things.

Rythill comes in after Carl, following to the table where Markus awaits. He stays quiet for the time being, suppressing a smile.

Carl bursts into the door with a big fat smile, this time without his gang, he slides into the booth as he takes out a big meth pipe and starts to smoke it. " Whats happening big chief, Fucken here to lend you a fucken hand.." He looks over towards Rythill and nods towards him

"Same here," Rythill confirms with a nod. "Just point the way and we'll get it fuckin' done."

Nils enters on his own, dressed in urban camo, as if ready for whatever Markus might require. "You have summoned me?" He asks, looking over at Carl and his group with a nod.

"Indeed, but when you hear what I have in mind, you may not be so eager," Markus replies in his thick arab accent. The book in front of him is closed and put away, then he leans forward over the table and rests on his forearms. "The final battle is coming soon. Very soon. However, there is but one more task that remains before the elders may be put to the axe. The Chantry must be destroyed, and the Tremere's power with it. That is why I have summoned you."

" The Chantry... fucken Tremere and fucken gargoyls..." Carl crosses his arms as he puffs away at his meth pipe. " know if they have big defences?"

Nils is at full attention. "A chance to get even with the usurpers." He says. "Count me in." He says. "Good question, Carl. Have we scouted the defenses?"

Rythill's eyebrows lift. "You're fucking shitting me..." he murmurs, then looks to Carl. "How the fuck did you not tell me we had the fuckin' ancients at a fuckin' crossroads? We're on the last step to Gehenna and we're sitting in a fuckin' bar? What the fuck gives? Let's got stake those ancient fuckers!"

Rythill brings his fist down on the table, adding, "Fer fuck'sake!"

"Well, I am pleased to see that you are all ready and eager," Markus says as he turns and brings out some paperwork. "The Chantry is a historic building, therefore we have schematics of parts of it. At least we know where the public utilities hook up and have a floorplan. However, the plan is most likely misinformation, except for a key part: the basement and boiler room. Your objective is that boiler room. I want you to attach an explosive device to it and then make your escape before the fireworks. You will go just before dawn when the Tremere are most likely to all be gathered there for the coming day. That gives you a very tight time table to get in, plant the device, and then make good your escape."

Markus looks at Carl and shakes his head. "We know very little of the defenses of the Chantry. Attempts to infiltrate it have universally failed, and passive surveillence only tells us so much. What I can tell you is that there appears to be a large number of ghouls at all hours of the day, and there does not appear to be any type of electronic monitoring or alarm equipment installed. Beyond that, you will have to find out when you encounter it."

Rythill nods slowly. "So... you're saying we've found the Chantry of the fucking Tremere Antideluvian? Are you fuckin' shitting me right now? Is this for fucking real?" He stares at Markus questioningly, trying to figure out if he's being fucked with. Rythill looks to Carl to get a sense of if he thinks he's getting fucked with maybe

"We have a misunderstanding," Markus says, "This is the chantry for the Tremere in and around Shady Grove. There is no antedilevian there. When I referred to elders, I was referring to those old enough to be in command of Elysium here."

"Ah, okay then." Rythill confirms with a slow nod, settling back down. "Has anyone thought to go after some of their ghouls first? Maybe turn one or two of them into spies for the night?" Rythill suggests.

Nils nods "Still, old enough to cause a problem. Lets take care of them before they take care of us."

"Mary here carries the fucken explosives... wheres tge trigger?" He opens his palm with a big fat smile, as he looks at Nils, before he lookd back at Marcus. " The trigger please, ductap to wrap it around mary"

Markus gives Carl a withering stare, then returns to business as usual. "If you would like to try to identify and turn a ghoul, you have the time to attempt it. However, it is imperative that the ghoul not be discovered, or all our work here so far may have been for naught," he explains as he reaches beneath the table for one of his ubiquitous black duffel bags. It is set on the table with a very heavy thud. "The device is on a ten minute timer. This is fixed and cannot be changed."

Nils answers quickly. "Nils." He says. "And fuck you and your infighting, Bish." He says giving Carl a glare. "We need to work together to defeat this. If you can't work with me, I'll work on getting a ghoul by myself. We cannot afford to be at each other's throats, not when the End Times are so near. I think a ghoul is a much better suggestion then sending in one of our own."

Rythill looks from Markus to Carl, then Nils, each given an unimpressed look before he refocuses on the task at hand, rising from the table and taking the duffel bag. "So we need to get in, I.D. the best place to set the bomb to ensure we get all the Tremere fucks, set it, then G.T.F.O. of there." He looks to Carl. "You bring some heavy arms for this shit? Gotta have 'em for when those fuckers are running out of there half on fire an' shit."

Turning towards Rythill He nods once. " Got an assult rifle and a few shotguns.." He keeps puffing away at his meth pipe then as he fake ashes it, he states. " Cant use them before we set it, claws and fangs, stealth.." Carl stands and attempts to leave " lets do this, blow up the boiler room, rin tge fuck out ofthere"

Rythill nods in agreement, the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "Let's do this shit."

Nils nods "My powers are yours to command. Let's try not to fuck this up." she says.

Markus provides the name and address of a bar only a few blocks from the Chantry. It has been identified as a hangout for the ghouls when they are not on duty or otherwise engaged by their masters. However, spies have reported that some ghouls, supposedly on duty during the day, have been seen entering the bar in clear dereliction of their responsibilities. The place is a run down dive known as Clara's Song, and other then ghouls, is populated night and day by degenerates and low lifes of every stripe.

Carl looks over towards Rythill and smiles. " Lets go cunt, we going to make history!!!" Carl keeps walking as he starts to speak once again . " Mary get the explosives, dont fucken drop it!"

"Sounds clear enough to me. Let's get over to this dive and work us up some spies of our own," Rythill agrees, heading out with Carl and Nils.

Nils crafts himself to look like a beautiful woman with long flowing red hair, green eyes, the works. He..or rather she grabs the explosives carrying them. "Sure thing, Bish. Lets go."

Upon arriving at the bar, it is easy to tell that it is currently full and hopping. The music blares and drunks stumble outside to vomit and smoke cigarettes. One guy is even passed out in the rain gutter. Inside is hot and crowded, it's hard to hear yourself think over the din of conversation and the jukebox.

Rythill smiles broadly to the reformed Nils. "Pretty bitches first," he says, holding the door open for 'her'.

Carl enters the bar and starts to circle the dance floor and bar. Keeping a goid eye out for anything un usual. " Show me the ghoul..." Carl murmrrs as he takes a drink from a table sniffs it then places it down

Nils smiles. "Thank you." she says with her normal cool emotionless voice. "So lets see." she looks out for anyone who might be larger, more aggressive. More ghoul-like in their behavior."

After a few quick scans Nils picks up on a ghoul at last. The man doesn't look like much: short, slight, achne. More like a computer geek then a hired thug. He is sitting alone on a barstool sipping at a brew in silence.

Nils heads over to the short, geeky man with a bright smile. She speaks in a deep 'Lucky Charms' Irish accent. "Hello. I'm Molly. I couldn't help but notice you. I always liked intelligent men. What's your name?"

Following Nils with his eyes, as he keeps circling the area, he watches out for Rythil for a slight moment then turns back to the intended Target.

The man looks up at the beautiful woman with big, round eyes. "I'm S-s-steve," he stutters like an engine on its last legs. "You want to talk to m-m-m-me?" Apparently Steve believes this is his lucky night.

Rythill shadows 'Molly' from across the bar, keeping his distance so as not to spook the ghoul, but keeping a close eye on the unfolding situation. He lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag.

Nils nods "I do." she purrs. "So do you happen to by any chance play World of Warcraft? I'm fairly new at it and would love to have any advice from veterans." oh man. Asking a guy to hear about his level 85 Paladin or whatnot. She's hoping this is worth it.

Steve gushes forth like Old Faithful! The sheer amount of esoteric WoW information this man has in his brain could fill several thick volumes of the encyclopedia Brittanica. He goes on, and on, and on, AND ON, unless interrupted.

Rythill edges slinks closer, tapping Molly on the elbow from behind, then whispering to her: "Take him to the can." He nods to the restroom then lights up a new cigarette, the last one smoked to the filter.

Making his way next to Rythill, Carl lights up his own cigar and puffs on it slightly. " Il jump the dumb cunt outside, you fucken do ya magic shir, judt like at the prison.."

Rythill turns to Carl, whispering in reply, "Nah, in the john. Fewer eyes there. Just watch the door."

Nils whispers to Steve. "You want to do something naughty?" she asks, her voice lowering. "I'd love to take you into the bathroom, rip open your pants and fuck you like an animal. I mean a guy that has a character that great must be awesome in the sack." She stands, taking his hand. "Come on, no ones watching. Lets go!"

Steve flushes redder then Molly's hair, but he doesn't resist. He is timid, but he is more then happy to follow her into the bathroom. The second they get there, his hand grabs her right tit like a vise and he gets a goofy smile on his face. Perhaps its his first time groping a woman.

After they enter the bathroom, Carl stands at the doorway with his arms crossed, not letting anyone enter or trying to stop peoples with intimidation

Rythill tails Nils into the restroom, and wastes no time kicking out anyone else that's in there and locking the door. Then, he moves to take hold of Steve by the throat, looking into his eyes. "Hi there, Steve."

Nils freezes as Steve starts to feel her boob. When She sees Rythill she mutters. "Get him before he fuckin' motorbats me."

Steve is so enthralled with his first boob that he hardly notices Rythill. He is oblivious right up until he is yanked by the throat, then he squeals like a stuck pig. "Wha-? Hey, s-s-s-she invited m-me!" he squeaks like a mouse.

Carl turns away a few peoples with his awesome intimidation, everyone is scared of a meth addicted biker

Rythill moves his free hand to hold Steve's eye open, looking into it with his one good eye. "Listen here, Steve. You're going to do exactly what I say," he begins, his voice laced with supernatural compulsion. "Nod if you understand."

Steve twitches in Rythills grasp and mewls quietly, but he does nod as he starts to get a glazed look in his eyes.

"First, you're going to tell me exactly how to get in and out of your chantry. Next you're going to tell me exactly where your masters sleep, and how to get there from the entrance to the chantry. Lastly, you're going to stay absolutely fucking silent. If any of your masters or cohorts ask you anything, you just say: Can't talk, LATE FOR RAID." Rythill instructs Steve.

"There is a hidden escape route in the basement," Steve tells Rythill, sounding remarkably like a talking cucumber. "It leads from the basement to the old Bell Telephone building down the block. We aren't supposed to leave the basement, but the only guards are ghouls. We take turns covering for each other." Slowly, the man shakes his head, not taking his eyes off Rythill. "They sleep upstairs. I don't know how to get upstairs. I'm not supposed to leave the basement."

Rythill nods then looks to Nils/Molly. "You any good at infiltration?" he asks. "Or should I just strap the thing to this guy and tell him to take a nap?"

Nils tilts her head. "I think that might be the best plan. I could take the blood form and sneak upstairs, but if I got caught.. I think your plan is better, for all of us."

"Could have him smuggle you in, then you set the device and sneak out. If there's a tunnel there's cracks, or pipes, or vents," Rythill replies, then smiles. "That's one hell of a trick, you know."

Rythill maintains his grasp on Steve's throat, not enough to cut off blood or air flow, just enough to keep him from screaming or squirming.

Opening the door, Carl adds his thoughts. " Mary, look like that dumb cunt, get the idea where togo plant the fucken thibg and sneak the fuck out,..." Carl looks at Rythil and nods. " Have us watch from the outside"

Nils nods "Yes, I know. It is my true form, blood animate." He says, his voice more or less emotionless. "I can take his form, yes. And plant the explosive and leave." he says. "I'll make sure I get out in one piece."

Steve ignores the conversation, apparently prefering to stare dreamily into Rythill's big beautiful eyes.

Rythill looks to Carl, then Nils, then back to Steve, capturing his gaze again. "Is there any special phrase or code or key you need to enter the Bell Telephone building, or the escape route?"

"You knock," Steve says and giggles. Then he makes a complicated series of clicking noises with his tongue, miming the secret knock needed to get in the door.

"Again," Rythill has him repeat it, then nods, confirming it to Nolly. "You got it?"

" Any fucken Gargoyls in that fucken place??" Carl asks as he eyes Nils slightly. " Don't fuck this up Mary, if you succeed, you might be in the bishops good books"

Nils nods "Knock. I think I can do that." she says. "Let me see his face." she motions to the Ghoul.

Rythill frowns slightly. "I mean that series of fuckin' coded knocks, you got the pattern?"

Rythill moves aside so Nils can see Steve's pockmarked face properly

"So soft," Steve gurgles happily at Molly, a hot flush coming over his face again. His right arm sneaks up and latches on to her breast again and starts squeezing it rapidly like a bike horn.

Nils runs her hands over his face and hands. She then moves the hand to her own face, reshaping it like Steve's. Her bones shift, her breasts sink in and soon she is Steve's doppleganger. She..or rather he then kicks the ghoul in the crotch. "No honking." he says in Steve's voice. "Are we ready?"

Rythill grabs Steve's hand with his free one and gives his jugular a nice tight squeeze.

"Almost," Rythill replies, then takes hold of Steve by the collar, releasing his throat. "You never met Molly, me. You got too drunk and started hitting on a trannie. When you got into the restroom, they kicked the shit out of you for being a god-damned groping asshole."

Steve lets out a woof of air and suddenly it is his own giblets he is grabbing onto. However, he still has the presence of mind to nod and absorb everything that Rythill tells him. "Drunk. Tranny. Shit kicking. Got it." He sounds very eager to please his dominator.

Rythill makes sure the memory takes, then retrieves a heavy maglite from his jacket pocket and clocks Steve with it upside the head. Assuming he's out cold, he drags his limp body into one of the stalls and sits him up on the toilet. Then he looks to Steve's new lookalike and nods. "Okay, let's do this fuckin' thing," he says, passing off the duffel bag.

Nils gives the secret knock. He heads on in, smiling to the guards, maybe being a bit too social for Steve. "Hey guys. I gotta pee." with that he heads for any sort of bathroom in the basement,looking for a place to drop his dirty bomb.

After Nils makes it out and both of you stand looking from a safe distance, all hell breaks looks. The lower level of the four story historic building blows out in a gout of fire, sending stone and glass flying at deadly speeds through the city. Men, women, and children are indiscriminately slaughtered by this horrific shower of schrapnel. Then, the building begins to collapse in on itself. Slowly, very slowly, and then gaining speed it crumbles inward until there is nothing left but a mountain of debris covered in dust and begin to burn ever more furiously. Nothing could have survived.

Rythill stands watch, assault rifle trained on the various exits to the building, just on the remote chance something will emerge.

Kine News

"...and that is why you should not try having sex with an aarvark, even if you're 'pretty sure', that it is dead. Back to you in the studio!"

"Thank you Cindy! What a calamity! Now, on a more tragic note, we regret to report that the Weinhauser building, a historic landmark of jewel of our neighbors in Shady Grove, collapsed last night. An estimated 350 people were trapped inside and another 17 were killed or wounded by debris outside. Although rescue crews worked feverishly all day and well into the night, no survivors were found, and at this point none are expected to be found. We'd like to take a moment of silence to recognize these lives cut horribly short..."

Sabbat Story

Channel: Courier Only (Hand) Status: Eyes Only From: Markus To: Bishop Carl Carlson

Greetings, and congratulations on your ascension to the Bishopric. Although you were involved, I felt it incumbent upon myself to provide more detail into the aftermath. As the chantry burned, we ensure that no one escaped. We feel strongly that this ensures that there will be no blood mages brought to bear against our forces when the final battle is joined. And it is coming soon, have no doubt in your heart. Shady Grove will be free, and very soon. All that is left to us is to mass our forces against the objective. Due to their exemplary work thus far, I have decided to offer the job of storming the Elysium to the Sabbat of your city. This is an opportunity that few Sabbat receive, it is a once in an unlife glory. Should you accept, please inform me quickly, as there is little time.

The Word According to Schreknet

You all know the building that went down was a chantry, and it wasn't no accident. The sky burned green for an hour as all them blood mages when to their final death. Freedom is coming, Shady Grove. Better get with the fucking program.