2014.12.20 Every Mothers Son
| Every Mother's Son | |
|---|---|
| Sins of the Past | |
| IC Date | December 20th 2014 |
| IC Time | 10:00 P.M. |
| Players | Sargon, Zuri |
| Location | Alabama |
Log
Philosopher king intro CoH - December 20, 2014, 10:07 PM
The room smells of blood. Lots of it. There's another scent in the room as well. Brimstone. The whole room smells like the Devi's abbatoir. Its dark inside. Damp. And there's a buzzing in the air. Flies? A mystic ward against Kindred? Both? Who knows. Sargon reaches back to squeeze Zuri's hand gently. "Don't be afraid." Though the words are steady as they're spoken, there's a sense of dread that underlies them. Zuri and Sargon had spent the better part of the night hunting this location down. Now that they're here? Its probably worse than either of them could have imagined. Crucified on an inverted cross in the center of the room is Sargon's mother. Naked, beaten, tortured but alive, if barely. She looks pregnant. Her belly is swollen, and ready to burst. Can women that old even GET pregnant?! There's dark mojo at work in this room. Dark, unholy mojo.
How did we get to this point....everything has a beginning.
Zuri is waiting outside for Sargon to swing by and pick her up. No sense in running in to Jax as they make there escape out of town yet again. She glances at her watch he should be there any moment god let's hope they aren't traveling by arch flash that plays havoc with her hair.
Sargon arrives by way of conventional conveyance. A plain unmarked black sedan. He'll unlock the door and wait for Zuri to hop in. "You wanna travel by plane or train or semi-trailer?"
Zuri laughs and shakes her head, "What ever you think will get us there unnoticed if we can sneak in on the city it's better yes? You didn't tell me where we are headed but I am good to go." She refrains from the taking her home to meet his mother comments. Good thing they would end up being in poor taste.
Sargon says, "Alabama. Just outside of Birmingham." Who would have ever pegged Sargon as a good ol' fashioned Southern boy?! "Semi-trailer is the most flexible, but train's nicer. I don't really have a preference." A pause as he considers. "Train's more ... better style, I guess?"
Zuri laughs softly, "I used to travel in a horse drawn wagon, that had style and romance. But yeah sure we can take the train you can fill me in on what I need to know easier that way." She cuts her eyes at him, "Alabama? Really? Your seriously from Alabama your not just having a go at me?"
Sargon eyes Zuri. He's slowly taken to getting more comfortable not wearing his smartshades around her, the risks of Dominate be damned. "Alabama, yes. God, football, and barbecue. The Army was my ticket out. So. There you have it." A pause as he reaches for his smartshades. "My mother doesn't know. As an FYI. About me. I mean, she knows I'm a spook, or used to be, and that I'm one of the good guys, but. Not that I was neck deep in some Harry Potter wizard cult, nor that I ended up over my head and then left for dead only to be taken in by the Warlocks."
Zuri nod her head and laughs softly, "I'm not one to shatter any mother's image of her son. Your secret is safe with me, but it's going to cost you. I believe a nice romantic evening, you and me on a scattering of throw pillows listening to some music. That should cover it." Dominate him, why the thought only crossed her mind once or twice. After all entrancement is so much nicer for the long term.
Sargon nods, and begins closing in on the train station. "We'll stand out a bit. It may be 2015, but interracial couples still draw eyes outside of the bigger cities, believe it or not. We just need to try and not break anything. This should be a low profile affair."
Zuri she flashes him a grin, "But a secretary raises no suspicion does it...Sir? I mean I can pretend to be anything you want me to i've got lots of practice playing a role. Hell I could even appear not to be with you if you have a way to communicate with me."She smiles softly over at him, "It's not like you need to hold my hand or kiss me in public. It's a bit like the camarilla less people know what is between us the more room we have to breath so to speak."
Sargon frowns. "I give a fuck what people think, or say, or even do. We just need to exercise a little discretion and measure in our responses. But whatever makes you feel most comfortable. My mom'd sniff out the truth regardless in about three seconds flat. She'd have made a great operative" A shrug as he pulls into a long term parking space.
Zuri watches him for a moment, "I'm always comfortable, I am who I am. I lack tact most days, shame all days, I wear my heart on my sleeve and my emotions in my eyes...." She picks up her bag, "I will though refrain from dry humping you leg in public even if it would be hysterical...and scandalous."
Sargon offers up a ghost of a smile, "Fair enough. We'll have a private specially prepared sleeper car all to ourselves. Since I have to forgo the dry humping in public, feel free to make it up to me with a blowjob in private. Its a looooong ride from here to there," he'll deadpan. He grabs his own bag, locks the car and then leads you towards the train depot, taking your hand in his. "Thanks for coming along. I really appreciate it."
Zuri gives the hand a squeeze as they walk, "Your not getting rid of me easily, I can handle a man with a dangerous life and secret. Just no socks in bed that shit totally creeps me out." She just grins at his offer to let her do things to him to pass the time, "You I believe are a filthy tease one day i'll call you on those wolf tickets your selling. No speedy transport to get you out of there either. I will have my wicked, so very wicked way with you."
Sargon grins. "Well, I've only been waiting forever and a night. Was wonderin' when you'd step up to the plate and take your swings at the ball. Don't be bashful on /my/ account." He'll return the squeeze and lead her over towards their private sleeper car with the blacked out windows.
Zuri laughs as she gets on the train, "Bashful? No i'm not that but after our last conversation I thought you might have run and gotten yourself a magical chastity belt. Just didn't want to bring up the subject without my lockpicks handy."
Sargon nods, entering the sleeper car after Zuri, then shutting and locking the door behind them. "Gimme a few minutes to ritually secure our quarters, hmn?" He'll then pull a knife and slash at a wrist, drawing out enough vitae to begin painting sigils into the four corners of the space. "You ever been to the South before?"
Zuri grins and lifts a shoulder, "Not since the Civil war and I was a more socially accepted color back then for the verandas." She gets settled as he works and slips out of her shoes, "I suppose in this case that won't help me."
Sargon shrugs as he finishes securing the space with a brief incantation. Magic washes over and around the car, assuring the pair that no sunlight will breach the windows or any other space. "There. Now that's all done, we can relax a bit." He still seems preoccupied, though he's doing his best to relax. He walks on over to take a seat on the small sofa. "How do you deal with it?"
Zuri waits for him to settle and then does not pounce him instead she leans on him and stretches out her legs, "With what? There are a lot of things to deal with in this world."
Sargon says, "With being so damned old? Doesn't it weigh on you? Seeing things come and go?"
Zuri tilts her head resting it on his shoulder, "It should I suppose but then I have never chased my humanity as so many others do. I accept what I am, what I have lost and what I have gained." She smiles for a moment, "I have seen many wondrous things, I have seen things that crushed my soul and brought me to tears. I still laugh and dance in the moonlight, I have not lost my capacity to love another. I live as fully as I can in every century I have lived, it is not seeing things come and go that causes despair. It is seeing all of it alone, to have no one to share the burdens and the joy with."
Sargon's brow furrows. He's quiet for a few moments before allowing a shrug to run across the breadth of his shoulders. "You don't strike me as the type of woman who lacks for suitors. No offense."
You say, "None taken, there is not a lack this is true but just because they are there does not mean I want them. You can not tell me you do not turn the heads of woman, or have lacked companionship when you wanted."
Sargon laughs. "There's not much love to be found in the spy business, sweetheart. Lying for a living doesn't work wonders for authentic relationships. And being a Warlock? Is like the spy business times infinity."
Zuri says, "I don't know I rather like you, likely to much for my own good given the secret I shared with you." She lifts a shoulder, "Most immortals are content to sit around inside the safety of their homes. Surrounded by their servants. They can't remember the last time they took a risk. I would rather die tonight here with you having taken that risk then live another thousand years doing nothing."
Sargon nods. "I haven't been around long enough to want to hole up. I live for the field. Besides, I'm expendable that way to the folks at the apex of the Pyramid." He'll kick off his shoes and lean into Zuri a little. "So that I can properly create contingencies, you mind sharing a little of what you bring to the party? I mean, I'm like a level 99 Blood Elf Warlock. What're you?"
Zuri she thinks on that for a moment, "I suppose I am your standard tauran tank class, I can take a lot of punishment physically and dish it out. I'm fast, I hit hard and I have pretty pretty shredding claws."
Sargon's lips form a thoughtful moue at that. "But ... I thought you said you were Rom? Like ... aren't they illusionist class specialists?" He turns around in his seat slightly, swiping at his smartshades. Maybe he's running a diagnostic of her?
Zuri says, "Oh that yeah I can make you see anything I want I can even make you think your hurt, I can use presence and dominate with equal success. I'm a little bit of everything, I can even speak to the animals and touch objects for information. This though does not mean I don't get to occasionally stare dreamily in to your eyes and sigh."
Sargon hnhs, rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully. "Multiclass is good. Its why I like thaumaturgy. It can sub in for most /anything/ given enough creativity and prep time." He reaches up and caresses Zuri's face gently. "Even if this is some long con? I'm enjoying the ride." Then he leans over and presses a sensual kiss to the woman's mouth, dragging her onto his lap as he explores her lips and tongue with his own.
She leans in to that kiss and her lips part for him, she taste of peppermint. A hand strokes the side of his face and then into his hair. If its a con the question begs just who is conning who. There is a soft sigh as she relaxes against him giving herself over to that kiss.
Sargon draws back after a moment, considering the woman on his lap. "Mom's never met any of my love interests. I mean, I've had a few that weren't assets I was cultivating, but I've never brought anyone home with me, much to her chagrin."
Zuri strokes her nails over his scalp lightly, "I'll try not to embarrass you." she says then adds "Gypsy word of honor." She then tucks her head under his jaw, "We go make sure your mom's okay then a nice quiet train ride back to the coast. Maybe around Texas i'll give you new memories to replace some of your old ones."
Sargon says, "Oh, I don't embarrass easily, and its not you I'm worried about. Just bring a block of salt with you when we check in on'er to take with whatever she might opine." A sigh. "I donno, nothing about this sits right. I've worked hard to keep her safe and away from my circumstances. I had the postcard psychometrized and the funny thing? No psychic residue left on it at all. Zip. Zero. Zilch. The whole things screams bushwhack."
Zuri nods her head, "Don't worry about me, I am Rom. No one has ever liked having us around we are like ducks it rolls off us." Her head tilts again, "It is likely a trap you know it and I know it. But when it's the people we love it never seems to matter does it. You would walk thru hell to save them."
Sargon frowns and nods, "That's what worries me. Hell takes on a different meaning and significance when you've been welcomed into the Pyramid. I had a pal looking in on my mom once and again, but he's gone silent. Not good, 'cause that guy was one tough sonuvagun." A small shrug, "Just. Stay close, and." A pause,. "I donno. I'm just talking to talk now. Don't mind me."
Zuri leans up it's her turn to silence him with a kiss as her hands cup his face. Soft and warm she lets her lips linger against his before pulling away. "Your not getting rid of me that easily you know. Your going to be stuck with me for a long, long time."
Sargon says, "Yeah, I wouldn't want to be trading body blows with the Seneschal again on account of me going and getting his latest investment broken," he'll say with a grin. "But that notwithstanding, I have come to feel fond of you."
Zuri smiles, "Well then we have something in common I fear you have found a place in my heart. I would not be happy to see you injured." There is a ring of truth to the words but then again the Rom are notorious liars, they could teach the CIA a thing or two about how to make someone believe.
Sargon nods. "I'm working on that, but for now the best defense for me is a good offense."
Zuri grins, "Oh by all means you come up with the plan and we can see what I can bring to the party. If this is a trap they are likely expecting you alone or with others of your blood. That might be an advantage."
Sargon nods absently. "Yeah. I guess so." he'll shake off whatever thoughts clouded his outlook, and then rise, carrying you along with him over to the bed. "Almost dawn. We should get some rest."
Zuri laughs and shakes her head, "Yes we should it's going to be a long few nights I think." She scoots over leaving him the outside edge no doubt for speedy escapes.
Their train arrives at dusk, just as the sun sets. Welcome to good ol' Birmingham, Alabama. Sargon opens the door and gathers their belongings. "I have a car waiting. You ready for this?" From the way he says it, its as if they're about to march into Gehenna.
Zuri puts on her happy face, "Of course what is the worst thing that happens, aside from the Grand Dragon coming to dinner."
Sargon rolls his eyes, "Well, even the things that go burning torches in the night have their own things that go bump inna night, so don't go jinxing us." He'll place his hand firmly in Zuri's and lead her over to a black late model sedan. Luggae will be stowed, the passenger door opened for her and then he'll join her in the driver's seat. "My mom's place is a little ways outside of town in a community called Greenbow. But its a scenic drive."
Zuri gets settled in the car and nods, "I will give the south the fact it has some beautiful countryside. I...what do I call you in front of your mother? Or is Sargon your given name and not an operative cover?"
Sargon drives, a pensive cast to his countenance as he considers Zuri's question. "My name's Domininc. Dominic Sargent. Sargon was ... is a craft name." True to his word, the drive is beautiful, despite or perhaps because of the moonlit nature. Theyll end up on a long, lonely country road.
Zuri nods, "You will of course be Sargon back home, I would not betray you like that among the vultures." She turns her head to look out the window again. "I always did like open country."
Eventually, a lonely little house will present itself in the wooded area. Its dark, though. A car is parked outside, but there doesn't seem to be any signs of activity. Sargon's eyes will narrow as he pulls into the drive. "Mom always leaves the porch light on when it gets dark out. This isn't good."
You say, "I suppose it's to late for you to let me out to check the area around the home. At least we know something is not right let us hope it is nothing to serious for her sake."
Sargon kills the engine, and gets ready to open the door. "Stay close."
Zuri nods her head and actually saves the pithy comment as she places her hand upon the door, "I'll bring up a close rear."
Sargon tries the doorknob. Its locked, but an uttered incantation takes acre of that as all locks to the house suddenly come undone. He'll twist the knob an d push his way inside.
Zuri is a step behind giving the man in front enough room that if he has to dodge he will not trip over her and vice-versa. She refrains from activating gleam lacking a pair of his cool glasses to hide the affect. Instead a moment is taken and she is made to rely on the blind fighting skill.
Inside, the living room has clearly been tossed. The light switch doesn't work, so instead the Warlock raises a hand and suddenly its surrounded by an eldritch electric blue glow which illuminates the entirety of the room. Stuff is strewn across the floor, scattered as if a tornado was set loose on the inside of the house. Plastered on the walls are various photos and other mementos from Dominic's life before he was swallowed up into the World of Darkness. They're all marked up with red ink, Dom's face 'X'ed out furiously in each and every one. Up on the ceiling, there's a dark, damp spot in the center of the room.
Zuri scans the wall then looks up at the ceiling and sniffs just a little likely trying to determine if it is blood, gasoline or something else.
The scent is fecund ... blood and excrement and something .... else. Sargon frowns, and his eyes will begin to spark at the edges. He'll utter another incantation in a tongue long since dead and then over by the stairs leading up, a golden shimmering web will be revealed. "Go outside and fetch me a red mulberry branch. The leaves will be mitten shaped. At least a foot long, and preferably green, not dead."
Zuri makes no comment about being sent to fetch things like the sorcerers apprentice instead she moves out cautiously just incase and begins to search for the branch.
In the meantime, Sargon makes his way along the perimeter if the room. Although the photos may SEEM pasted up at random, there's a larger pattern at play here. He'll begin tearing them off the walls, and behind each one, a symbol will be revealed.
Zuri is gone a few minutes and returns with a branch still green she waits for the pictures to be dealt with before offering it over.
Sargon takes the offered branch, then heads on over towards the illuminated web at the stairs. He'll intone a few nonsensical syllables and then run an electric current through the branch, causing the leaves to smolder and smoke. Only once that effect has been enacted does he thrust the branch into the magical web, and ever slowly twist and turn it countercolckwise, drawing the web into the branches at a slow steady pace. "This way," he'll murmur as the task nears completion.
Zuri moves up staying on the warlocks flank, "Have I ever told you I was once almost burned as a witch?"
"Here in America? Or over in Europe?" A grim grin suggests at his lips. "I've never minded so much the little things. Being a child of the modern age. But the South? There are magicks here that will always be ancient." Then the Warlock will slowly begin to ascend the stairs.
Zuri follows him up the stairs, "England, totally wasn't my fault."
Sargon nods, then comes up on the house's second floor. The doors are shut, and he'll look around, nodding to the room where the blood stain would have come from. "Inside there."
Zuri stands to the side of the door, and motions for him to move out of the way. "Should I open it or is it just going to have something gross and magical behind it like a troll?"
Things must be grim, for the Tremere doesn't banter back with a quip of his own. "Knock it down," he'll offer quietly even as he stands back and draws up a hand in an arcane gesture.
Zuri nods her head and seems to be okay with it as she draws back and slams a foot to the door next to the lock. She isn't wallflower even without the potence with it she kicks harder then a mule.
The door will go flying off its hinges, then falls to the floor with a heavy THUD. The room is dark, and the air is damp. As the pair's eyes adjust to the dim lighting a body will be revealed. Its that of a doe. She's been slaughtered and gutted, along with her unborn fawn. The act was committed fairly recently, as maggots have yet to seriously consume the bodies.
Zuri wrinkles her nose, "I think I would have preferred a troll, this is..." She just shakes her head. "What does this mean to you Sargon?"
"Magic. Black magic. Nothing good." The Tremere steps up to the two bodies. "I hope you've a cast iron stomach" He removes his jacket and rolls up a sleeve before sticking his arm up into the doe's innards and feeling around for something. "C'mon, damnit," he'll mutter. "I know you're in there."
Zuri does indeed have a cast iron stomach then again she was sabbat and her humanity left long ago. She watches as the Warlock fishes around in the guts of the dead animal.
Sargon grunts and then pulls something free. A sigh and he drops it onto the floor before moving over to the calf, and repeating the grisly search. "Fertility magicks," he'll mutter. "Demand the slaughter of mother and calf." His hand roots around inside the calf's vajayjay.
Zuri wrinkles her nose again, "Are you certain you were a spy and not a gynecologist before all this happened?" Everyone deals with horror in their own way she is apparently a smart ass.
Sargon says, "My beat was infiltrating and taking down millenialist cults. Lotts disappointed people when the year 2K came and went with nary a bang." Finally? He pulls something free and likewise drops it on the ground, then shakes the clinging detritus from his hand and forearm before looking around for a bedsheet to tear into a rag for cleaning up. "Can you fetch us some water?"
Zuri nods her head and slips out not opening the door opting for bringing it up from the kitchen. She's got a pasta pan full of the stuff cold of course.
Sargon will make his way over and wash the filth from his hands and forearm, then take the pan and dump it over whatever it was that he fished out of the two dead animals in the room. When all the muck and gore is washed free, two small idols will be revealed. He'll crouch down to get a closer look at the handiwork. Its only then that something within the butchered cadavers begins to stir, and a faint buzzing can be heard.
Zuri puts a hand on Sargon's shoulder, "Time to go unless you feel up to playing with insects." She eyes the corpses and pulls the ripped sheet over them to maybe slow down anything taking to the air.
Sargon nods, scooping up the tiny fertility idols and dropping them into a pocket. "This place is ruined," he'll mutter, though if there's any bitterness or regret to his words, its masked with a greater sense of dread. He'll then usher Zuri out of the room and down the stairs, hot on her heels.
Zuri takes a quick look outside before stepping out in to the dark, then as soon as he is outside she makes for the car, "I hate to say this but if she isn't here you might want to set it to the torch before anyone looking for her stumbles in to that scene.
Sargon nods. "There's kerosene in the shed. Help me burn it."
Zuri brings the kerosene cans around to the front of the house and then goes inside to spread the gasoline on the second floor. She comes back out after the liquid is spread, "You can set this off on the road yes?"
Sargon is quiet. Eerily so. Like the calm before a storm. He'll offer up a small shrug, the gesture magnified across the breadth of his shoulders. "Sure." He'll turn to begin heading towards the car. He'll wait until your inside, then raises a hand and lets loose a bolt of lightning that hits a tree, splitting off a limb and setting it on fire as it tumbles into the house.
She buckles her belt and says nothing, it's not the time to offer sympathy his mother may yet be alive and it would just distract him. "Where to now?" is all she asks settling in eyes on the road out and not on the destruction being done behind them.
Sargon reaches into his pocket and pulls out the two tiny idols that were retrieved from the innards of the slaughtered animals. "Hold on to these, but don't touch them with your bare hands." He'll pause as he considers. "We're going to find ourselves at a crossroads."
Zuri opens her bag and lets him drop them inside, "Great i've not tried to sell my soul to a demon ever this could be kinda fun." She doesn't sound like she thinks it's fun but then seriously him and demon.
Sargon nods absently. "We're not going to sell anything. We're stealing." He'll drive in silence for the most part, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes from view and his expression wan and unemotive.
Zuri lights a cigarette after cracking her window, as long as he is holding it in she lets him. She checks to see if the car's radio works and if it does finds a station playing Elvis.
The car does indeed have a radio, and it does indeed work! There's enough Elvis on to be easily found. Rather than head back towards the city, Sargon continues to drive further out into the country. "Its gonna be a while. The crossroads we need is a little ways down the road."
Zuri nods her head and sings along with that radio and is not to bad as it happens. Her nails tapping along to in the ghetto. "S'kay I had a bathroom break before the French revolution."
Sargon will allow himself a ghost of a smile, but is otherwise content to continue the drive in silence. Eventually the paved road gives way to gravel, then a little while after that? To plain old dirt. They'll eventually come to a crossroads surrounded by fallow fields on this moonless night. A lonely magnolia tree lies barren off to the left.
Zuri looks out the window, "No this isn't creepy at all..." she looks over at him, "Dear Diary second date with my super spy....we went to a crossroads out in the middle of nowhere...to raise a little hell."
Sargon pulls the car off the road, and kills the engine. "Has to be done, I don't have patience to cast a questing stone right now. Tempus fugit." He steps out of the car and makes his way over to open the door for Zuri. "Bring the idols with you, but don't touch them."
Zuri gets out of the car carrying her bag which she hands to him. "Don't rummage to much you never know what you will find in a ladies purse."
Sargon shakes his head. "Hold on to them for now." He'll reach behind to the small of his back and produce a small knife with an strange colored blade. Copper? Cold iron? He'll swipe at his smartshades, and mutter in Ancient Greek. He'll wait then, looking to and fro. After a few moments, he'll offer a grunt of acknowledgement. "Mrnh." Then he'll march on out to the crossroads and drop down to his knees. He'll draw blood, raking the knife across his forearm and spilling it into the dirt. "Drop the idols into the bloody dirt, then stand back." The knife will get raised over his his head, held high as he waits.
Zuri watches and walks forward tumping the idols in to the dirt. She then moves back letting the Warlock work in quiet she really doesn't look happy she's met demons.
Sargon begins to chant, speaking in a tongue long since dead and gone. Its an incessant rhythm, and soon, his body begins to tremble and shake as he sends himself willingly into a thaumatugical glossolalic frenzy. The eldritch energies seemingly begin to consume his body from the inside out and just when it seems like he's going to go translucent and fade from view he falls forward and plunges the knife into the bloody dirt between the two idols. There's a flash of flame, accompanied by the scent of brimstone and dung, the shockwave knocking Sargon back on his ass and sending Zuri off her feet. In the spot where the ceremonial knife pierced the earth? Something wicked this way has come, linked to Sargon by the energies he channeled via his mystical malady.
Zuri groans as she sits up and looks over at Sargon and his new friend, "This is just not going to end well." she mutters under her breath. Other then that she doesn't complain or interfere.
The demon that was summoned is ... grotesque. Fecund. The very Sephirot itself, inverted. Its dark magic that Sargon is trifling with here, no doubt about it. She hisses out in disdain, <<WHy have you summoned me, mag ->> A pause, and then she laughs. <<No, not a mage. Not anymore. Someone's went and gotten themselves Gilguled!>> The Warlock grows, then reaches into his jacket and produces a half burnt candle. A word is uttered and lightning sparks from his eyes to the wick, setting it aflame. This then causes the demon to shriek like no one's business! "My mother, demon. Where is she." Sargon is all fuck and no foreplay tonight. Straight for the gusto.
Zuri just watches the last time she met a demon it ended in her hurling a statue at an angel. If she wasn't damned before she is really off god's christmas list now. She is smart enough though to say nothing to break Sargon's concentration on the vile thing.
The demon writhes and undulates under the mystic assault. <<What the fuck! Where's the banter and bargain?>> The Tremere's eyes narrow and he flings melted wax at the fallen angel. When the wax hits its rotted maggoty flesh, it sizzles and burns white-hot, flaring up white hot. So that's what stars look like when they die. "I won't ask again. I'll find another crossroads, and another demon."
A hand covers Zuri's nose and mouth, sure she doesn't have to breath but her brain is screaming to cover up anyway. But that's a demon right, it's just the end all be all of creepy shit and what it's only their second real date and he's already showing her a hell of a good time.
The demon shrinks into itself, finally realizing that this isn't your typical crossroads summoning. Sargon seems perfectly comfortable laying what's left of his soul on the line, apparently. Black magic like this hasn't been used in an Age. <<You know where she is. You just don't want to remember.>> Sargons' gaze narrows and he lifts the melting candle high up over his head. At which point the demon plucks out an eye and extends her hand to the vampire. Sargon will frown, then lower the candle and reach out with his free hand to take the eye, before popping it into his mouth and chewing on it thoughtfully.
Zuri makes a face one normally sees on a small child whose mother just shoved a brussel sprout in its mouth. She doesn't puke but she really really wants to. Then she is shaking her head no doubt a note to herself if they survive this he's flossing and using a bottle of scope before he gets any of her sweet loving.
Sargon chews on the putrescent eyeball for a few moments, the spits it out onto the defiled ground before the demon. It lands squarely between the two bloodied idols. The demon laughs, and shakes her head. <<Told you, bloodling. Next time you call me you had better ->> And then? Oh no he didn't! He tosses the melting candle at her feet and she goes up in an incandescent plume of fire. Gone. Her Name wiped from the book of G-d as if she had never existed in the first place. If one believes in Sin? Sargon, he just committed a Big One. He spins on his heel and makes for the car. "Let's go."
She gets in the car and opens up her bag and without comment offers over a stick of big red. Then she is lighting a cigarette for herself cause that was just gross.
Sargon takes the offered stick of gum, unwrapping it with the one hand before tossing it into his mouth. If only the soul could be as easily refreshed. He'll drive in silence for a while, before finally speaking. "Thank you." Two words. Quietly spoken. Regretfully uttered.
She looks over at him, "Your flossing and brushing if we get out of this alive." Then she leans over as much as the belt allows and kisses his cheek softly, "Told you, i'm here for you. All the way." then she sits back and returns to watching the road.
Sargon shakes his head. "Not at the cost of your soul." Its another long lonely drive, still traversing the desolate country road. Someone? They're going home. Eventually, they arrive at their destination. A house that looks well built, well maintained, but there's something cold and hard in the air around it. No warmth, no loving echos, no laughter having seeped into the fabric of its walls. Sargon kills the engine and lights, the car rolling along the dirt driveway in neutral.
She turns and looks at him, "My soul is damned already, I helped the 'Fallen' of Prospect kill an angel...a real angel. Do you really think this is going to hurt my standing any. This is all we have the here and the now, and if I think you worth any kind of punishment to come after well that's my call and there is dick all you can do about it." She opens her belt and cracks her neck, "So Sargon I think you should put on your big girl panties now and suck it up, I am not leaving you so deal. And when you done with that lets go get your mom."
Sargon unbuckles his seatbelt and looks over at Zuri. "I - I ..." His mouth shuts and he offers a mute nod before getting out of the car and taking a look at the old house, shutting the car door behind him. "This was my dad's house." A pause. "I always hated this place."
Zuri steps out in to the night and closes her door, "We can always burn it down when we are done." She looks over at him, "Nothing says closure like heaping piles of cinders."
"There's no closure, as much as we might like there to be. There's only the lies we tell ourselves and the truths we refuse to believe." Sargon reaches out to take Zuri's hand in his own and give it a squeeze, then releases it and begins walking up the dirt drive towards the house.
Zuri trails along after him, "That still doesn't mean we can't burn it down!" She grins as she walks behind him, "You know your thinking about it."
And then that's when it hits them. A mystical wall of force. It starts out as a feeling of dread. Like a giant neon sign that says STAY AWAY in bright blinking lights. Each step that they take forward strengthens the intensity of the foreboding feeling.
There is a grimace and Zuri turns her head to him, "Seriously babe, next time can we I dunno go to the park?" She is not comfortable with the magic stuff clearly but she also is refusing to leave him to face it alone.
Sargon is suddenly stopped cold in his tracks, before he nearly doubles over from the pain of the mystic ward when they come up onto the steps of the porch.
Zuri clenches his arm thankfully not to hard she doesn't look happy as she can taste her own blood in her mouth. "Sargon? Come on buckaroo I can't do this by myself." Her peptalks need serious work.
Sargon grimaces, wiping the blood from his lips that welled up from the mystical trauma. His eyes will narrow behind his smartshades. "The porch," he'll mutter. "The steps. There's a ward that's been placed upon them." He'll drop down into a crouch, peering at the creaky wooden steps. His head lifts, going to look to the windows, which are black as sin. No light shines from within. None at all.
Zuri says, "If the steps are destroyed will it break this..ward shit?" She looks at the steps then at him, "Say the word and i'll try to get rid of them.""
Sargon rises up from his crouch, and offers a nod. "Destroying the steps. Destroys the ward. But it'll hurt just as bad the second time as the first." He takes a few steps back from the ensorceled steps. "i could teleport pasat the door. Or try to, but I can't take you with me."
Zuri shakes her head, "Your not going anywhere without me. So save it for later you might need red flashy thing your ass to safety."
She eyes the stairs and shakes her head not wanting to go near them but then the option is worse. She moves to the side and gets a running start before sliding toward the stairs. Her legs draw up and then lash out in a mule kick. There is a cracking sound and the stair crack then explode outward in the direction of her slide. When she comes to a stop she is in a field of debris, splinters bits of porch mooring that gave way and a mouthful of dirt.
Sargon crosses his arms in front of himself in a defensive gesture when Zuri goes and makes the porch steps go KA-BLOOEY!!!, doing his best to avoid the shower of splintered wood and churned up dirt. Luckily? He's wearing his smartshades to protect his eyes, and his clothing, its magically engineered to repel dust (and dirt!) so he makes out well enough. "That," he'll offer quietly. "Was impressive."
Zuri spits dirt out of her mouth, "Object lesson, you ever dump me...wear a cup." She is joking maybe as she begins to pull wood splinters out of her skin. She makes a face and gives up with anything more in the way of clean up. "You okay?" is asked as she gets to her feet none the worse for wear it seems aside from the new stains.
Sargon takes a few steps forward, rejoining Zuri's side. He'll raise a hand to indicate the windows. "They've been ensorceled, see? No light in or out. That's blood magic at work."
Zuri sighs softly, "You know my answer to most things is physical violence right. So i'll make you a deal. I'll stand infront of you and take the blows and you handle the sparkly magic stuff?"
Sargon takes a few steps forward, rejoining Zuri's side. He'll raise a hand to indicate the windows. "They've been ensorceled, see? No light in or out. That's blood magic at work."
Zuri sighs softly, "You know my answer to most things is physical violence right. So i'll make you a deal. I'll stand infront of you and take the blows and you handle the sparkly magic stuff?"
Sargon offers up a smile. "Don't be so brave, it'll get you killed. And then who would I pal around with?" He's trying, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes, nor is the quip particularly inspired. There's bad mojo at work here. Very bad. Its palpable in the air. He then turns back towards the house and picks a path forward through the wreckage of wood. He pulls the screen door open, and then reaches for the doorknob.
Zuri reaches to stop his hand, "Are you sure you should be touching it? I mean what happens if you blow up on me? How will I ever get over it?" she looks at the door then him, "Only if you think you won't go boom."
Sargon eyes the doorknob. "No ward on this one. They at least have to be visible, see? The Warlock who figures out how to make an invisible ward? Nobel prize, for sure..." A grin and he tries the doorknob. But, no dice. Its locked. He'll frown as he twists and turns. "Good old fashioned locked door."
Zuri nods her head, "I could throw you through a window bet they wouldn't expect that...or would they. Or I can maybe pick the lock unless it's a deadbolt."
Sargon shakes his head, then reaches into his belt and crouches down to fiddle with the lock.
Zuri watches him work and leans down to murmur, "Do you know sexy a man who can pick a lock is?" She grins and straightens up, "I'm sure you get that all the time.
Sargon finally successfully picks the lock after a few moments. "Yeah, I used to get that all the time back in the day." He puts the lockpick away and then straightens up and reaches for the doorknob. "Just ... be careful in there, 'k?"
Zuri nods her head, "Don't worry about me, you got a job to do focus on that."
Inside? Its dark. Completely and utterly dark. No light. Just the sound of footsteps as the pair enter. And if one listens closely enough? The sound of a single beating heart, faint as it might be. Then there's the smell. Blood. Lots of it. And worse. Definitely not the place to be a Gangrel with enhanced senses, or the like. Sargon pauses once they've made their way inside, reaching back to have Zuri pause. His other hand comes up to his smartshades, activating the infrareds as he slowly looks around. "Shhhh," he whispers. "Do you hear it?"
Zuri can hear it but since she didn't get cool shades in her spy kit she leaves the gleam down for the moment relying on him. Her head turns slightly trying to locate the sound source.
Sargon lets go of Z's hand, then raises his own high in the air. A word is uttered and then blue electricity arcs between his thumb and forefinger where he holds them apart, like a virtual light bulb filament. The entire room is cast into a soft violet colored glow. What the glow reveals? Isn't pretty. The walls have been tagged up with occult markings in a mix of blood, semen and excrement. Unholy occult markings. They look as if they were made with claws. A section of the living room, its been cordoned off with a sheet that hangs from a laundry line stretched from wall to wall. A slight stale breeze causes it to flutter.
For once she just has nothing to say to what he shows her but at the claw marks on the wall she sprouts her own out of his sight at least he has enough to deal with. She activates her own sight aid just in case her tremere powered bulb winks out.
Sargon's brow furrows, and he'll find that he's holding his breath. A soft voice will stir from behind the makeshift curtain. "Dominic? Is that you? Don't come back here." The voice is a woman's. Soft and faint. Dry and fragile.
Zuri closes her eyes for a moment and a hand is placed on Sargon's shoulder. If he could see her face he would see dread and concern etched in to her features.
Sargon was about to step towards the sheet strung up that bisects the room, but then Zuri's hand is felt on his shoulder. The line of his jaw will tighten, and his eyes will narrow as he pulls forward. "I'm here, mom," he'll offer quietly as he makes his way towards the sheet.
Zuri could stop him but if she did he would never forgive her, hell he might never do that for not stopping him. She does the only thing she can which is to cover his back.
"Dominic, don't. You need to go. Get out." The woman's voice pleads as she hears his footsteps coming closer. With one hand still held aloft to provide illumination, the Warlock will use the other to tear the sheet down, sending it crumpling to the floor in a slowly swirling heap.
Zuri doesn't want to look she really doesn't more to the point she doesn't want him to look. The room the wierd blood magic she knows in her gut it's going to be bad and he's way to close to his life to not be affected.
The room smells of blood. Lots of it. There's another scent in the room as well. Brimstone. The whole room smells like the Devi's abbatoir. Its dark inside. Damp. And there's a buzzing in the air. Flies? A mystic ward against Kindred? Both? Who knows. Sargon reaches back to squeeze Zuri's hand gently. "Don't be afraid." Though the words are steady as they're spoken, there's a sense of dread that underlies them. Zuri and Sargon had spent the better part of the night hunting this location down. Now that they're here? Its probably worse than either of them could have imagined. Crucified on an inverted cross in the center of the room is Sargon's mother. Naked, beaten, tortured but alive, if barely. She looks pregnant. Her belly is swollen, and ready to burst. Can women that old even GET pregnant?! There's dark mojo at work in this room. Dark, unholy mojo.
Zuri closes her eyes and looks away so wanting to be anywhere but there at the moment. "Can you do anything for her." is asked after a long time.
Sargon reaches up to remove his smartshades, letting them clatter to the floor as he takes stock of the scene laid out before him. Its easier that way - to start with the details, one at a time, in isolation, rather than then scene in its entirety. Easier to be a forensic investigator than a son who's mother has just been used in some unholy ritual. The woman, she strains to open her eyes, looking up at her son. "She said that since I had already given birth to one monster, what difference would one more make? But I knew she was wrong. You're not a monster, Dominic. You've always been special, but never a monster." This from the woman speaking about her son who's arcing electricity between his fingertips. He'll make his way forward, and drop down to his knees, cutting the electricity so that he can gently cradle his mother's face. "I'm here, mom. I'm here." His words are whispered, fragile.
Zuri swallows hard there are just somethings time can not prepare you for no matter how much of it you have had. There is nothing she can say that will fix this for him. So she does the only thing she can watches over him as time seems to drag now. Three words escape her lips, "I'm so sorry."
The front door? The one they had picked the lock to? Slams shut. The buzzing in the air grows louder, taking on an almost narcotic-like quality. The woman's belly, Sargon's mother, it undulates, as whatever unholy thing that's beneath the surface roils and shifts. You can make out tentacle like protusions pushing against the stretched, straining skin. Something wicked this way comes. Sargon brushes his mother's hair away from her face, cleaning it a bit as best he can with his tie. "She tried to get me to tell her where you were, Dominic. But I wouldn't. I didn't." He'll swallow and nod, tears of blood falling from his eyes in big swollen drops. They'll slowly streak down his face, threatening to fall onto his mother's face.
Zuri is on edge now and a hand falls on his shoulder, "Can you stop it." is asked of him, "Will killing the one who did this to her save her life?" Those gleaming red eyes search the darkness then she looks away from him, "If you can not stop it you must end it." Her words hurt even to her own ears. She doubts he will ever forgive her saying them.
The woman's swollen eyes drift towards Zuri, "Is she your girlfriend? I always knew you'd do well for yourself. My little boy, all grown up. With a pretty woman. Colored, too. I'm so proud of you, Dominic." Her eyes will drift shut, "I'm sorry I won't be around to see my grandchild." Sargon, for his part, is silent. Trying to think of something. "Don't be sorry, mom." He strokes her face gently. Then? When his bloody tear falls onto her face, the romm begins to tremble, and the symbols on the walls begin to glow red. Sargon frowns and looks up to Zuri. "Pick up my smartshades, Swipe the left side twice, then take a look at all the walls. The floor. The ceiling. When all the pictures have been taken." A pause. "Run. You'll have to push your way through the door. It will be sealed shut."
Zuri bends to get his shades and is following his instructions, trying hard to focus on doing this task then she freezes. "I'm not leaving you behind. I told you that and I meant it..." She stands there holding the glasses, "Your not leaving me not like this."
The woman's eyes will open then, looking up at her son with love and sadness. "You have to find her before SHE does. You have to protect your sister from this. Please, Dominic. promise me you'll save her. SHE said she'd find her." There's an edge of desperate to the woman's voice now, the last of her strength beginning to ebb away as she goes into contractions. Sargon offers a nod. "I promise, mom. She won't hurt Samantha. She won't hurt anyone again." His mother nods, mustering up a tired half smile as she begins to ache from the contractions wracking her body. "That's my boy. I was always proud of you, Dominic. Remember that. No matter what." Sargon wipes the tears from his face and stands up, nodding to his mother's words. "I'm sor-" His mother shakes her head. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare say that. You do what you have to do, and then go find Samantha. Keep her safe." Sargon nods. he doesn't have the words anymore. His spine will stiffen and his hands will ball into fists. He's working against the clock. There'll be a second force at work now, a second thrumming of occult power. Where the other is wet, and bloody, and brimstone? This one, its dry, and carries the tang of ozone and copper. "I. Said. Run."
Zuri eyes him for a moment then takes off faster the is humanly possible using that speed and blood born strength to slam a shoulder in to the door. The door is going to give or she will take it and the frame down either way she is finally following his orders.
Lightning will begin to arc from Sargon's body, striking out from his core. The eldritch energies will gather about him, a storm in miniature, until he's completely engulfed by them. Gone is the form of the Warlock, replaced by something else altogether. The eye of a lightning storm, blue-white, painfully hot to look at. Bolts fly off in every direction, blasting the very clothes he wears off of his body and striking at the room. It won't be long before the entire home has been laid to waste, windows blown out, followed by the walls. He'll make his way to his mother, making sure she's at ground zero when he erupts into a series of lightning flashes that literally bring the roof down. There'll be an implosion as the room and the house finally give way under the unnatural display, collapsing in on itself. Zuri will be blinded by the display, a bright nimbus left in the center whose glow will slowly fade after a while, leaving the afterimage of a man behind.
Zuri makes it to the car before she loses her sight which might be a good thing as bouncing off the fender stops her forward motion and sends her to the ground. Hands press to her eyes as she she waits for it to fade hoping her retinas aren't scarred for the night.
Sargon will eventually make his way through the wreckage, naked and unharmed. A light rain will begin to fall, a soft pitter-pattering heard as the rain falls on the dirt road. He's quiet, a wan impassive expression worn upon his face.
Zuri sits on the ground until she can at least see shadows then she claws her way up to lean against the car. She has no owrds for him, no comments on his state of undress she is silent.
The naked Warlock will make his way over to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and then sliding into the seat. The door will shut, and he'll wrap his arms about himself before he begins to tremble and cry in the solitude of the vehicle, withdrawing into himself as he wrestles with one less connection remaining to his mortal life.
Zuri watches him for long moments, she has felt that pain. Held the ones she loved as they died. There are no words that will make any of this better for him. She can though try to give him comfort. She slides in to the car and in the same motion across the seat to wrap her arms around him. In this situation she will not let go if he struggles instead pulling him against her till she can rest her head on his.