Difference between revisions of "2012.07.11.Meeting.Markus"
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The grave yard continues to be shrouded by an aura of death and decay. The former bucolic California green space is rapidly being turned into some sort of gothic, southern necropolis. Graves have been dug up here and there emitting fumes. Grass grows over fallen stones. Mounds of indeterminate origin lay shadowed under overgrown trees. | The grave yard continues to be shrouded by an aura of death and decay. The former bucolic California green space is rapidly being turned into some sort of gothic, southern necropolis. Graves have been dug up here and there emitting fumes. Grass grows over fallen stones. Mounds of indeterminate origin lay shadowed under overgrown trees. | ||
| − | The eye of this whirling chaos is the Shambling Horror of Prospect. Like a modern day Pythia, the Horror stands on the marble stairs of its crypt and looks deep into a smoked glass plate. At what is anyone's guess. | + | The eye of this whirling chaos is the [[Rosette|Shambling Horror]] of Prospect. Like a modern day Pythia, the Horror stands on the marble stairs of its crypt and looks deep into a smoked glass plate. At what is anyone's guess. |
Strolling through this place of darkness is LaVey, wearing the face of Piotr tonight. The man carefully picks his way through the fissures and over fallen gravestones until he arrives at the crypt. "This place becomes lovelier every time I visit, what is your secret?" the man asks, sweeping an arm to indicate the rapid changes that are occurring in the cemetery. | Strolling through this place of darkness is LaVey, wearing the face of Piotr tonight. The man carefully picks his way through the fissures and over fallen gravestones until he arrives at the crypt. "This place becomes lovelier every time I visit, what is your secret?" the man asks, sweeping an arm to indicate the rapid changes that are occurring in the cemetery. | ||
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"That is, of course, why I came to you first," LaVey tells the Horror, stroking the creature's notorious ego. The man then turns to Mary and cocks his head back towards where he came from. "I appropriated a Wrangler from the Argent, we leave as soon as I obfuscate us all. I will be Willy, the Horror will be my wife, and you will be Candy, our adult child. The camarilla have a tight hold upon the police force there, and outsiders are treated with great suspicion, so it is best if we stay as low key as possible. | "That is, of course, why I came to you first," LaVey tells the Horror, stroking the creature's notorious ego. The man then turns to Mary and cocks his head back towards where he came from. "I appropriated a Wrangler from the Argent, we leave as soon as I obfuscate us all. I will be Willy, the Horror will be my wife, and you will be Candy, our adult child. The camarilla have a tight hold upon the police force there, and outsiders are treated with great suspicion, so it is best if we stay as low key as possible. | ||
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| + | Mary nods "Low key.." she says, changing her voice to something more feminine "Got it, Dad." | ||
Revision as of 16:46, 11 July 2012
Mount Hope Cemetery
The grave yard continues to be shrouded by an aura of death and decay. The former bucolic California green space is rapidly being turned into some sort of gothic, southern necropolis. Graves have been dug up here and there emitting fumes. Grass grows over fallen stones. Mounds of indeterminate origin lay shadowed under overgrown trees.
The eye of this whirling chaos is the Shambling Horror of Prospect. Like a modern day Pythia, the Horror stands on the marble stairs of its crypt and looks deep into a smoked glass plate. At what is anyone's guess.
Strolling through this place of darkness is LaVey, wearing the face of Piotr tonight. The man carefully picks his way through the fissures and over fallen gravestones until he arrives at the crypt. "This place becomes lovelier every time I visit, what is your secret?" the man asks, sweeping an arm to indicate the rapid changes that are occurring in the cemetery.
Mary wanders into the graveyard, wearing a white flowing dress that comes to her ankles tonight. Her hands are covered in opera length white gloves. A black veil is worn over her face, giving her a very monochromatic appearance. In her hand is a boquet of white lillies. She places one at each stone as she approaches the Horror. "Hello there. May I visit you tonight?" she asks.
The Horror looks up from its glass and replies, "Yes. Welcome to my Necropolis." It offers the leathery smile filled with strange teeth. "How may I be of service to the Sword of Caine this evening?"
"I have at long last received word from higher-higher," LaVey says as he reaches into his pocket. Out comes a piece of vellum covered in fluid writing. The paper is offered to the Horror first, then on to Mary. "In short, it says a crusade will soon be brought against Shady Grove. We, the Cainites of Prospect, are to be the vanguard. Specifically, I have been ordered to gather a small contingent and go with them to meet the black hand agent that will be our handler. Apparently he works out of dive called Smoke Jumpers. We are to present ourselves to him, then let him guide us in our objective."
Mary smiles. "Finally. A chance to prove ourselves in this city." she syas. "When are we supposed to meet him? Or her?" she asks.
The Horror looks to Mary and says, "See? The dead are already working on your behalf." It looks at LeVay and says, "How intersting. I hope I may be of service in this crusade."
"That is, of course, why I came to you first," LaVey tells the Horror, stroking the creature's notorious ego. The man then turns to Mary and cocks his head back towards where he came from. "I appropriated a Wrangler from the Argent, we leave as soon as I obfuscate us all. I will be Willy, the Horror will be my wife, and you will be Candy, our adult child. The camarilla have a tight hold upon the police force there, and outsiders are treated with great suspicion, so it is best if we stay as low key as possible.
Mary nods "Low key.." she says, changing her voice to something more feminine "Got it, Dad."
