2018.06.25: Tijuana Nights PRP: Introduction

Tijuana Nights PRP: Introduction
The Red Circle and The 77th members from outside of Prospect are invited to meet with Bishop Anezka Novacek in Tijuana to discuss assisting with an issue.
IC Date	June 25th, 2018
IC Time	Night
Players	Anezka, Carys, Doug, Patrick Harrison
Location	Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe
Spheres	Vampire Sabbat

At the time set by Bishop Novacek, the doors to the sacristy of Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe in central Tijuana opens the doors. There's no midnight mass, but the church doors were open. Locals are savvy to not come into this special events, as they know that this events are private. A young boy in chorister white and red cassock steps into the nave and chants. "In nomine Caine; et Patris, et Gladius, et Sanguis Sancti." He kneels before the ones present, head low. "The Bishop awaits. Please enter the sacristy, and follow downstairs into the crypts." The sacristy looks like an ordinary office, with a desk and a computer. In the back there are stairs that go into the depths, strong gates open at the moment. The floor below is dark and damp, the smell of old bones and decay. The corridor is faintly illuminated by weak bulbs, guiding a winding path to a large subterranean nave. Pews are lined, a stone altar is on the crossing, and the transepts are dark. Anezka stands by the altar, reading a leathery tome.

Doug looks the part, at least, for what little that counts. Well, it helped him blend in on the way here, at least. He glances around and nods to the choirboy, one hand vaguely imitating the gestures, though without breaking stride.

Carys has informed a few others from her group of the invitation here, and once they arrive, she nods to the boy, her hands stuffed inside her pockets, and goes down into the crypts. She sees Anezka and gives her a chin jut of recognition. "Yo, Bishop!"

Patrick simply follows after the others, the stoic looking Patrick at least looking more dapper these nights after being dressed first in Terrence's old clothes, and then 'fashioned up' a bit by Camille before she took off. When they get downstairs he gives that curt nod to Anezka, but his eyes hold a respectful expression.

Anezka raises her eyes from the book, looking at the ones present. She can't help but smile at Carys informal approach. "Bishop." She nods in return. "I've heard that Cardinal Oprescu elevated you into making the outskirts of Prospect into a proper Diocese. Congratulations." Then her eyes meet Patrick. "Brother Harrison. Glad you could make it." The she looks to Doug. "Have we met? Please apologize an old Fiend, but memory tends to get fuzzy after some time."

Doug shakes his head, offering a hand to Anezka in turn. "Nothing to apologize for. I think we did, once, at the Tumbleweed."

Carys gestures with her thumb toward Doug, "This is Doug Moreno, Ductus of the 77th." She grins, "And thanks. Not much of our kind in and out of Prospect, so time to rebuild a bit. The smart way."

Anezka nods "Ductus Moreno, I remember now. We met, but didn't had the chance to talk. Something we can remedy tonight." She walks around the altar, approaching the Cainites that came to the Summit. "Those who ignore that we're in the End Times are fools. We are fighting a war of survival, not conquest. We also lost many trying to conquer Prospect, warriors both great and cunning. We also lost some who won't be missed." Her smile is heavy, sad. "I came to Prospect with a clear mission, to provide distraction North of the Border as Archbishop Cicatriz dealt with the major problem we had here in Tijuana. The Pisanob. Who among you know who are the Pisanob?"

Patrick glances to Anezka, and nods his head once, "I know abit about them, but not as much as I would like. My access to books is limited I's afraid. I learn what I can though."

Doug inclines his head, then thinks back when the Pisanob are mentioned. "One of the minor families, right? They looking to change that?"

Carys thinks about it. "I heard something like they are related to the Giovanni. Haven't met any of them since our time in Mexico was restricted to Mexico City. I at least did not notice any there."

When Patrick says a little, it is probably more than most, but to him there is never enough information that he can gather. He is like a vacuum.

Anezka nods to Patrick and the others. "The Pisanob are a pre-Columbian death cult that was embraced into the Giovanni not long ago. Mexican in heritage, Mayan in name. Their leader, Pochtli, is still in charge, but hidden somewhere. His main general in Tijuana was his childe, Teicuih."

From the shadows of the transept a figure in a white mortuary dress and a porcelain mask appears. She's small, and her hands are gnarled. "Was is a precise way to describe her." She remains stationary. "I was with Cicatriz when we stormed her haven." Her voice is rash, as if hasn't been used for millennia.

Anezka bows to the figure. "Brothers and sisters, it's a pleasure to introduce you all Priscus Erishti-Aya, of the Harbingers of Skulls. She's the one enacting the Pisanob Progrom, with the blessing of the Regent."

Carys bows her head, with respect to the Priscus. "It is an honor to meet you, Priscus Erishti-Aya. I am Carys Thomas, Bishop from the outskirts of Prospect, California, member of the Red Circle."

Doug inclines his head in turn. "Likewise. Doug Moreno, Ductus of the 77th," he offers. And how unfortunate for the cult."

Patrick gives a deep bow of his head in respect even if his expression doesn't alter, "Patrick Harrison, of the 77th."

Erishti-Aya speaks perfect English, as if she were a British Noblewoman. "Bishop Novacek, please attend to your guests. I must prepare for my journey, and report to Unre and the Regent about our victory here." Her face is hidden by the mask, pools of black under the eye holes. The corpselike elder steps back into the shadows.

Anezka turns to face the others. "Teicuih is dead. So is Cicatriz." She lets the weight of the information sink. "Tijuana does not have and Archbishop now, and some of our packs are in disarray after dealing with the Pisanob Sicarii. Ductus Moreno, how is the status of your pack? I also would like to hear about yours, Bishop Thomas."

Carys shakes her head, "Our members are around, but mostly busy. I can contact them, but Archbishop de Vaca is busy in her area. I have a few that I can call in for help." She looks to Doug for his report.

Doug glances to Patrick, then back, shaking his head a little. "The two of us and our priest are holding together. The bishop is right, though, it's as good a time as any to recruit."

Patrick just crosses his arms, and waits as they talk.

Anezka nods. "I need to get hold of a pack too, so I have no right to chastise anyone. This is the main reason why I called you all here. I still have to deal with the remnant of the Pisanob forces, secure that the local packs don't eliminate each other as soon as they realize that the Archbishop is gone, and the cherry on top of this shitty cake. There's a rogue agent in town eliminating targets on both sides. This is where I tell you all: I need you. I need at least one or two packs that I can trust." She eyes Carys. "You denied me once the ritae of Vaulderie. Are you with us now? Do you trust the Cainites in this room?"

Carys nods, "I am with you, Bishop Novacek. All the way. Let us all come together."

Anezka eyes Doug and Patrick. "Can I count with the 77th?"

Doug inclines his head. "As are we. Not like that upstart who wanted to rush us into it the first night we met." And who has been notably absent since.

Patrick just gives a nod of his head as he listens.

Anezka laughs. She bends her head back and roars. "Fuck her." She tenses, her flesh rippling like a pond after a pebble. "Let her play dollhouse in her little fief. She's old, she's Tzimisce, but she never were True Sabbat. She never passed through the Creation Rights. She never has bleed for our cause. She's the perfect example why the younger had to take over the Clan." The Fiend turns and takes from the altar a golden Eucharistic cup, and a blade that's sheathed. Its handle soft like ivory. "Brothers and sisters, here we are united to forge a sense of brotherhood that goes beyond blind loyalty. When the fires of the inquisition burned the world, scared and weak elders sent their child into the flames. It was a time of pain. It was a time of loss. The learned among us created a concoction of the Kupala flower, this tincture broke bonds and set us free. Those who drink from the blood once baptized by this tincture is free as well. Lugoj, Velya, Vykos, Tabak. I was there. I saw it. I've learned." She unsheaths the blade with her teeth. "A blade used for the Vaulderie shall never be used in any other way. This one I forged under the fires of the first Sabbat, and it tasted the blood of brothers and sisters for centuries." The Bishop cuts her arm and bleeds into the cup. "It's an honor to share it with you tonight." She passes the cup and the blade to Carys.

Carys takes the cup and the blade from Anezka. "Together, we will be stronger together. It is my honor to be a part of this, and fight side by side with you all." She takes the blade and slices near her wrist, letting the blood drip into the cup. When enough has been spilled, she licks her wound closed and passes the cup to Doug.

Doug reaches his hands out, one closing around the base of the cup, the other taking the blade. More blood is added to the chalice and swirled together, then he hands the implements to Patrick in turn.

Patrick takes the knife, and slices his wrist deep enough to gain access to the blood, and watches with an almost curiosity as it starts to flow into the chalice. As it fills appropriately he gives a sharp nod of his head, and draws his wrist back before handing it to the next one. (to Lawrence)

Anezka takes the cup back from Lawrence, raising it with both hands. "By Caine, the Regent, and the ritae. I ask the blessings of our Dark Father to transubstantiate this blood into something more. For those who partake of the Vaulderie have earned the right to sit at His right side, and be His sword." She raises the cup to her lips, drinking deeply before passing it to Carys, that passes it to Doug, that passes it to Patrick, that passes it to Lawrence. "In nomine Caine; et Patris, et Gladius, et Sanguis Sancti." Anezka eyes the others, feeling the connection they made in her soul. "What was made under the eyes of the Father cannot be broken." The blade is sheathed and the cup placed back on the altar. More relaxed, she points to the pews so they all can seat. "The Cast of Nasties is gone, I take?"

Carys nods, "I have not seen Spyder in months. Kailee is nowhere to be found. Lars... for all I know he met his end as well."

"If they come out of the shadows, then so be it," Doug adds. "But until then, may as well assume they'll stay scattered."

Patrick shakes his head as well, "I haven't heard from any of them."

Anezka eyes Patrick. "Don't fear, brother. In here I want to hear the voice of all... I know how we can be a little insular, but your input is important to me." She nods. "I understand that both the Circle and the 77th are distinct packs, and it's not my desire to mess with what you all accomplished. I've had my fair share of heavy handed Bishops and Archbishops playing armchair general and merging or dismantling packs. Do you believe that both packs can work together, with an united front?

Carys nods, "I have no problem working with the 77th. We have done it before many times. While we started out differently, we have a lot of common experiences. It will not be a problem." She speaks with confidence.

"All the way back to the beginning, in fact," Doug points out, "for those of us who are left."

Patrick says, “I can work with her, no problems really, never have." he looks to Carys, then back to Anezka, "My opinion is usually an unpopular one, and not asked for often. It never stopped me from giving it before. I just don't bother saying much unless there is something to be said." Definitely not a chatterbox this one. Even if he had at least gotten a bit better from his short time working the bar, and the tattoo shop.”

Anezka nods. "Good. I have a few dolls and eyes around town. As soon as I discover a Pisanob hide hole, I'll alert you. If I can get a local pack to give you cover, I'll signal you too." She stands. "Thank you for coming. And please, keep your eyes open... I have no clue who's this rogue agent. My money is in it being a hunter, or an archon, or an Assamite. Not sure which is worse." Finally she opens her palm, showing a few keys. "The Cathedral above can be a little conspicuous. Across the street, there is a Casino. The elevator only reaches the basement through the use of this key, and there's a service tunnel that links to our Communal Haven here. You're all welcome to set a place for your packs here. Always welcome. My herd is your herd, my hunting ground is your hunting ground."

Carys raises an eyebrow. "If it is an Assamite, I will be sure to take care of it." While she only knows so many, it is her clan, and her business for sure. She takes a key for herself and nods, starting to plan in her mind.

Doug makes a face, but just for a moment. "We do this right, they'll never see it coming. Isn't that right?" he asks Patrick.

Patrick gives Doug that Rottie grin of his, "No, they won't but if any should it will be too late." He takes a key as well.

Anezka rubs her hands together. "Perfect. I'll have something soon." She then relaxes, knowing that the Harbinger is prolly gone and out of her neck.