2012.07.11.Meeting.Markus

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 interesting. 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."

The Horror clutches her robe indignantly, "Your wife?" She makes a ticking sound with her teeth. "I cannot say this would be the best use of my, shall we say talents. I will arrive independently and I will begin to seek out the dead there. It is best if I remain on the fringes of things. If I am to take more direct action, an introduction to the Prince there would make the most sense. My bloodline often remains aloof from the Jyhad and I may be able to infiltrate somewhat. Even the Camarilla have dead they wish to be rid of or wish to reconnect with. This is within my power to provide."

"Very well, I will provide you with the address and you can meet us there," LaVey says as he pulls out a business card and golden pen from his breast pocket. The card itself says 'f1nal' on the front, so he flips it over and scribbles for a few seconds. The bit of paper is then offered out to the Horror. "Tell Markus of your ideas, I am sure he can make us of them." After the card is taken he motions for Marion to follow him. "Let us be on our way, the night is young but we have much to do."

Mary nods "That makes sense." she smiles. "I'm glad to have you with us." she says to the Samedi. "You could be our best entrance to the Camarilla's secrets." she gives a bright smile to LaVey. "So, Daddy, we ready?" she asks.

Andrea has arrived.

Cash has arrived.

Andrea walks into the cemetary, looking much like she should be followed by a body guard or two. She has a regal walk about her, a spoiled tilted up nose, and an air that screams that she always gets her way. She is wearing jeans and cowboy boots, a loose blouse over a tight black tank. Vivid red hair flows down her back. She is followed, after a bit, by an old man. She stops, waiting for him to catch up, and grins, before letting Cash take the lead - becoming HIS shadow.

While he's no bodyguard, Cash is walking in at the same time Andrea is. He's got a slow, deliberate pace he's taking, the chink of his spurs sounding out with each step taken.

Mary is dressed differently then normal today. She is in a floorlength white gown, her face covered by a black veil. Her hands are covered in opera length gloves. "So what does Candy look like?" she asks. Apparantly she is preparing a new face. "She'll have to be scarred. That damn Cross."

At the center of the chaos of the cemetary is the Shambling Horror of Prospect. Perhaps you've heard of it? Perhaps you haven't. Regardless, you have tresspassed upon its Domain. Many who enter here never leave.

The Horror looks to Levay and speaks its voice little more than a rasp beyond the grave, "More new faces? More company?" It doesn't seem exactly pleased that so many gather here. "Will there be ritae or is this a...social call." It would seem it would prefer the former.

"Don't worry, I will mask your face. You will simply look like Candy wearing those clothes," LaVey says and waves his hand. Without any dramatics, Mary is now Candy, the tall redhead. Turning around, he spots Cash and Andrea arriving. With a few quick words he fills them in, and shows them the missive from the Archbishop. "You may ride with us, or you may make your own way like the horror. Which will it be?"

Mary murmurs. "I always recommend ritae before heading on something so important, but there is little time."

"We can ride with you. Who knows, you might need the protection." Cash drawls, arms crossing over his chest.

Andrea looks at Cash "I prefer riding my Sire's bike, we will ...." she trails off, and makes a face, biting back her words to look over at the other two, shrugging. "You two are a bit chewy. I guess we should attempt to protect you" she drawls finally, lifting her little nose to the air like it was a dirty job.

The Shambling Horror casts a baleful glance at Andrea, its black, glassy eyes pouring over her with indignance. It doesn't say anything. It clutches its robe and shambles a little further towards its crypt, collecting a few things cast there. Bones, a pane of smokey glass, a vial of something.

"Very well, see you there Horror," LaVey says as he leads the group to the wrangler. After about an hour on the road they find themselves on the outskirts of town. The next twenty minutes sees them through middle class rowhouses, through the slums, and right on into the warehouse district and the docks. The wrangler pulls up next to an alley and the nosferatu disembarks. "The bar is just down here, if my directions are correct," he says as he walks into the alley. After a dozen steps he turns and pulls open a set of double doors leading into the establishment.

Shady Grove - Smoke Jumpers - The Bar

       Walking inside the establishment the bar is only ten feet in front of you. It is shaped like a horseshoe and the rest of the room forms a U around it. The bar has many stools around it peanuts on top and broken shells everywhere to crunch under your feet. The place takes after it's name as a pall of smoke hangs heavy in the air just beneath the lighting. A squadron of sickly fans beat lazily at it but to no avail. Light is provided by by those same fans 40watt bulbs struggeling to bring only the most dim light to the place.

       To either side of you are the tables. There are no booths only tall bar tables made for four people with accompany chairs built to match the height. At either tip of the U are what appears to be a matched set of small rooms. One has a curtain pulled all the way across and a rope suspended between two columns declares it reserved. The other is set aside for the propieter Markus and is halfway open.