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Mickle5125
The Call.

For weeks, something was messing with the Call. Something demanded that you wait to answer it. Wait, it asked. Just a little longer, it cajoled. All the while, the Call rose, screaming through the Cobweb, demanding obedience. Come, the Call shrieked. Wait, the interferance begged.

Suddenly, just as it became unbearable, just as the conflict threatened to tear the Cobweb assunder, there was peace. The fight ended. Come, the Call demanded. Yes, the interferance whispered, It is time.

------

Los Angeles. The City of lost angels. And global chaos central, lately. Things have been pretty freakin' crazy, and that's saying a lot, considering who's doing the thinking.

Your travels have lead you to the Hollywood hills. There, amongst the trees, lie the still-warm remains of a mansion-turned-asylum. The ruins still leave enough standing for you to tell that this was once a truly magnificent mansion, with great towers and massive rooms. But now, there is nothing left of it's old magnificence. A fire has gutted the mansion, leaving it a twisted pile of stone and metal and ash.

It was this hellish scene that the Call lead you to. As your explorations begin, your eyes are inexorably drawn to the top of the lone remaining tower, just in time to see a figure slip over the side and plummet to the ground, just beyond your line of sight.
Ancelote_Lefebvre
"If I ignore it, maybe it will go away. It's worked before." Ancelote continued to unpack the few supplies in her one bedroom, basement apartment. It was rundown, perhaps better described as "just shy of hot and cold running roaches", but it was within her budget. It had no windows, which normally would not be a selling point, warped wood panel walls and orange shag carpet. All of which matched in its own way the mismatched used furniture she had assembled. "Grandmother's attic decor" might describe it. Still, she was grateful for it, even if she had to have help getting it rented.

Almost in time with the second message telling her to wait, the neighbors began having a screaming fight. She couldn't help looking up in a mix of horror and amusement. The walls muffled out some of the words which made what she could hear much more interesting. Ancelote didn't mind though. They paid no attention to the fact that she was nocturnal and their fights didn't wake her in the day. She hoped they never would at least.

-------
"Do I have to?" Not that talking back to "it" ever worked. Ancelote mentally growled, then grabbed her bus pass. Some nights she regretted she had never gotten competent in driving. All she had to do, though, was to watch the news to change that thought.

The bus dropped her in the general direction of the hills. Suddenly she felt more out of place than usual. Simple wrap dresses and sarongs were affordable, came in the cheerful colors she preferred, and were easy to maintain, but they didn't fit in here. There wasn't hope in ignoring the demand she get to where ever she was supposed to go. She tucked a stray lock of light brown hair behind her ears as she walked up the the ruins she needed to be in. Her brown eyes scanned the scene, looking for signs that there were others here.
Mary-Anne Guyiver
Mary-Anne hated The Call. She hated it with something very close to the uncomplicated sincerity of emotion she knew before... before she had to hear it. She hated what it told her, and what it wouldn't tell her, with equal fervor. Most of all, she hated what it meant about what she was.

Ignoring the words even as she reviled them, Mary-Anne opened her eyes and stared up into the plexiglass ceiling of her "bedroom". The material offered a sort of hazy, fuzzed reflection of her room, and her big brown eyes moved slowly as they traced the familiar outlines. Her four-poster white iron bed with its immaculate, pink-and-white ruffled linens. The tall blue vanity, with her silver brush set and perfume atomizer positioned so precisely, and the little blue skirted stool in front of it, where she sat to freshen up. Her desk, with its neat stack of books and brass reading lamp, and the plushly-cushioned rocking chair where she would read before lights-out. It was all the same, still, as it had been every day of her life, as far back into her memories as her mind would allow her to visit.

She climbed off the bed and walked to the vanity, staring into her mirror, willing herself to find it, finally find it. Mary-Anne knew, with a passionate certainty, that if she could only identify the change in herself, the change that so disgusted Da, she could eliminate it. Her eyes moved more quickly now, making a ruthless inventory of her features, her gently-curved lips forming more and more of a scowl with each passing second. What was it? What was it? Her nose was still small, slanted up ever-so-slightly at the tip in the fashion so popularly associated with cheerleaders. Her delicate jawline, her plump cheeks, the fine arches of her eyebrows, those wide, deep brown eyes that Da affectionately called "cow eyes"... it was all the same! She was the same!

Mary-Anne's fist collided with the vanity mirror, shattering it. She cried out softly, and instinctively looked at her hand. It surprised her a little, even now, when her cuts did not bleed, and when they disappeared so quickly. Surprised her, and made her sick with self-loathing. That's what was different, wasn't it? What she -was-, not how she looked. She was a monster, a horror, a terrible disgusting beast. A very bad little girl.

She banged the plexiglass door to her "room" open and hurried down the stairs, the cool breeze catching the hair off the back of her neck and blowing it against her cheeks. Hurrying down the stairs, Mary-Anne paid no attention to the dozens of framed photographs of herself that nearly covered the walls. To an impartial observer, this many pictures signalled obsession, fixation. To Mary-Anne, they had only ever meant that Da loved her.

Out the door and into the night, Mary-Anne strode to her car, hitting the button on her keychain that popped the locks on the sleek 2008 Volkswagen Beetle convertible. Functioning on autopilot, Mary-Anne turned the ignition and reversed down the driveway. She was hungry, suddenly, that gnawing new hunger that made her hands shake and her eyes turn a little glassy. It was time to Eat.
Farold Bridger
Farold sighed and adjusted his glasses as the scooter sputtered to a stop within view of the burnt wreckage. "I don't know what Kak is up to with these voices, but perhaps this will quiet them. I'm certainly tired of this. Things are rough enough without added distractions; I hope this isn't a regular 'feature' of my new existance." A quick check of the pockets in his jacket confirm that he had his tape recorder.

Sliding the latter out of its hiding place, he slipped the button to record and began dictating. �Location appears to be a burnt-out mansion, now abandoned. I am now looking for signs of use by gangs, the homeless, or nomadic populations before approaching more closely.�
[ Spoiler ]


Picking his way through the rubble, he scanned the scene ahead, looking for what ineffable source might exist for the past weeks' urgings. A figure standing in the near distance stood out quite clearly in contrast to the gloom. "A person is visible ahead, not making any attempt at concealment. Time to see what's going on."

Allowing a note of bemusement into his voice, he approached the figure. As he neared, he spit out questions in rapid succession, �Are you why I am supposed to be out here? What's so important? Why so much pain?�
Ancelote_Lefebvre
Ancelote tilted her head slightly at the man who just walked up to her. With his recorder, she hoped like all hell he wasn't a reporter come to cover whatever event left this house in ruins. "He said 'why I'm supposed to be here. So maybe he's one of us."

"Oh. Hi, you startled me.", Ancelote smiles. "I was just wondering why I am supposed to be here, too. In a physical sense, not some grand metaphysical way". Ancelote thinks quickly "Sweet baby jesus, let their be fangs in that mouth."

"I sort of received a call that I needed to head here. I take it you did, too?"

I'm Ancelote, by the way."
She pauses to see if she'll get a name back, though if he was indeed of her clan the definition of "name" could be interesting. Having things talking to her in the back of her head may have made Ancelote uncomfortable on a deep level that she couldn't explain, but she didn't mind being a Malkavian. After all, she might be crazy but at least she wasn't embraced a Ventrue.
Ancelote_Lefebvre
[Sorry about the double posts everyone.... I'm not sure what's going on with my connection :/ and there's not a delete post button.]
Farold Bridger
Farold gave a short half-smile in return and switched the recorder to his left hand. He then extended his hand in greeting.
"A pleasure to meet you. I am Farold Bridger. That's like 'Harold', but with an 'F'. Please feel free to call me 'Bridge' if my name trips you up too much," he continued, its slightly rote intonations indicating a standard line of introduction.

Then he continued, "Yes, I suppose I received a similar call to be here, although I wasn't quite sure what to expect upon arrival. The message seemed rather pained and a little conflicted. I would love to discuss the matter of your notification further, but for now perhaps we need to look around. I wonder if we have arrived too late after all."
Ancelote_Lefebvre
"It's a pleasure to meet you Farold. I'm new to the area, so I'm not sure what has happened here. I agree, we need to check the area out."

I wonder if we will be the only two called out here tonight.
Mickle5125
Mary-Anne

Mary-Anne stayed on autopilot as she drove, never noticing that the route she took was not toward her favorite hunting grounds, but instead out of town and into the hills. When she finally shifted into park and stepped out of her car, it finally dawned on her that this was not where she wanted to go. The burned out ruin was not packed with kine. It did, however, have two people standing right in front of the car.

It looked like her hunger was going to have to wait until later.

Ancelot and Farold

Before Farold was able to respond, the hum of a car engine can be heard approaching the mansion. Very quickly, the car rounded the last turn and barreled towards them. At the last minute, the driver slammed on the breaks and skidded to a stop, not even ten feet away from them.

The driver climbed out of the car and looked around, blinking in confusion, before finally settling her eyes upon them.
Mary-Anne Guyiver
Mary-Anne blinked at the two before her. This is not where she wanted to go. This is not what she wanted to do. Well, lovely, this isn't what you wanted to be, either, but the universe does not seem particularly interested in your wants right now. Hearing Da's voice in her head always jarred her a little, and she flinched visibly, pressing one small hand to the back of her neck. Logic told her it wasn't really Da talking. Logic told her that the voice was created by her subconscious mind to make her feel less abandoned, less alone. Unfortunately, logic seemed to have precious little to do with her life right now.

The girl straightened her back, pushed back her shoulders, and forced herself to remove her hand from the back of her own neck and fold it, most delicately, with its mate, in front of her waist. With a soft, guileless, innocent little smile, she faced the man and woman in front of her and tilted her head most charmingly to one side, consciously adopting the posture of a puppy looking ever-so-expectantly at its master. "I'm sorry if I scared you, stopping so close. I haven't had my drivers license very long, and gosh if I don't sometimes forget how long it takes to brake! Are you all right?"

Even as those big brown eyes displayed concern, Mary-Anne let those weird new snaky thought-vines spiral out of her consciousness. She feels and almost, almost sees them ravel and spool along the ground and sniff, like smoke-born dogs, at Farold's cuff.

[ Spoiler ]
Mickle5125
Mary-Anne

[ Spoiler ]



Farold

[ Spoiler ]


Ancelot

[ Spoiler ]
Ancelote_Lefebvre
Ancelote gave a small half chuckle. "Don't worry, I've had worse brushes with danger." She stoped to scan the place around her. "I wonder if there will be anymore of us to arrive. I haven't had much experience with..." she searched for a word, just in case the person that joined them was just a passer by, "calls like this."

Ancelote's head snaped upward just as the body goes over the edge. It might not be the most thought out of plans, but she started moving towards the tower. "Note to self, learn Celerity."
Mary-Anne Guyiver
While Mary-Anne managed not to recoil from the information she was suddenly receiving, she did have to look away to maintain the helpful, innocent expression. Her eyes widened slightly as she watched Ancelote move. What the smokeform dogs had told her was vague, but she did not feel an immense desire to trust Farold. On one hand, if he and the woman were a team, separating them would reduce their dangerousness. On the other hand, if they were unconnected, whichever one she was left alone with might feel liberated by the absence of a witness, thereby increasing their dangerousness. Curious, how so much of social niceties revolve around the fear of your poor behavior being observed...

Mary-Anne's own thought was cut short by Da's voice again, and had her face not been turned toward the departing Ancelote, Farold may have been able to see the wince provoked by the sound. If you stay there will be trouble... but if you go, it will be double. So come on and let me know, lovely. Don't make me take it to the percussion. It's so dull.

Caught in a moment of indecision, Mary-Anne waits to see what the man will do.
Farold Bridger
QUOTE (Mary-Anne Guyiver @ May 19 2009, 10:12 PM) *
"I'm sorry if I scared you, stopping so close. I haven't had my drivers license very long, and gosh if I don't sometimes forget how long it takes to brake! Are you all right?"

Farold closed his eyes and straigthening out his clothing, counting to three before responding through clenched teeth. "Charming. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss, and I assure you that you are unlikely to have done any permanent harm."

The newcomer's stare was disconcerting, but not something he was completely unexposed to by this point in his new life. "I said that I am okay. Is there someth..."

Farold let his comment drift off as he noted his other companion for the evening suddenly turn her gaze skyward and begin running. "Perhaps this should be continued at a later point," he hastily added while jogging after Ancelote and gazing up at the plummeting figure.
Mary-Anne Guyiver
At a much slower pace, Mary-Anne began to follow Ancelote and Farold. She wanted them to establish enough of a lead that they would pay her little mind, but not so much of a lead that watching them would become difficult. It suited her to hang back and let the situation develop a little more before she threw herself into it. Still, Mary-Anne had to jog herself to make up for the head start the other two had.

This time, when Da's voice filled her brain, there was no concealing the wince. Don't run, lovely. So unladylike. Mary-Anne stopped in her tracks, dead still for a moment, and began moving again at a sedate strolling pace, hands once again folded in front of her waist. Without realizing she was speaking aloud, the girl whispered "Sorry, Da. I'll slow down."
Ancelote_Lefebvre
[ Spoiler ]


While she didn't turn around, but Ancelote came to the realization that the others who had been called here weren't keeping pace with her. She briefly weighed slowing down and having people to help if trouble arrived versus getting to the tower as fast as possible. "Meh. They'll catch up eventually."

[ Spoiler ]
Mickle5125
clk-whiiiiirrrrrr-clink. clk-whiiiirrrrrr-clink.

There was no crumpled body waiting for them when they reached where the body should have been. There was, however, an odd sound that echoed all around them endlessly.

clk-whiiiiirrrr-clink. clk-whiiiiiirrrr-clink.

splat. splat. splat.
Farold Bridger
Farold paused for a moment trying to make sense of the strange sounds. He frowned and tilted his head to assist in locating the source of the noise, he turned and scanned the near grounds, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from.
[ Spoiler ]
Ancelote_Lefebvre
"Clicks" and "whirrs" are not sounds that Ancelote particularly liked. "Drip, drip, drip" was worse. As she was fairly creative, and had seen a few very graphic incidents growing up, her mind filled in all sorts of unpleasant images. "There's too many echoes for me to try to search by listening. It'll be best for me to try to spot what's making the noises."

[ Spoiler ]
Mickle5125
Farold

[ Spoiler ]


Ancelot

[ Spoiler ]

Ancelote_Lefebvre
[ Spoiler ]


Ancelote doesn't want to interrupt Farold. She did, however, move from where she was standing.
Farold Bridger
Farold frowned and took several steps back. "Clockwork overhead and doggie bags falling all about us? I don't like this..."
[ Spoiler ]

He circled slowly, head tilted oddly as he went. "I'm not sure what's above, but this sounds like a setup for an ambush. I'd better do a quick check. Maybe I can get a better idea of where the clockwork is as well while I'm at it."
Mickle5125
Ancelot's knife throw strikes true and the figure stumbles backwards out of sight.

Meanwhile, Farold manages to spot a glint appear in the air over a pile of rubble during each of the whirs.
Ancelote_Lefebvre
"We've got company, too. I don't like the way this is going. Whoever put this call out deserves getting a boot up their Loon ass." Ancelote backed closer to Farold so she could try to cover him if need be. "So, go up; go over to the side; or just try to get the hell out?"
Farold Bridger
Cleaned up version of IRC chat.

Farold hissed under his breath, "Over there. Watch just above that pile when it whirs..."
He stood up and announced aloud, "I'm not wanting to flee so quickly. Clearly someone has gone to a fair amount of effort to greet us in a memorable manner..."

Ancelote backed up a little so that she didn't bump into Farold.

Clk-whiiiiirrrr-clink

Ancelote replied "I think it would be best if I keep my eyes on the doorway."

Farold answered, "I suspect someone is wanting a new photo for the christmas cards this year."

Ancelote replied under her breath, "And me without my Santa hat." To Farold she asked "I might be able to get up the tower. But if I do it would leave you open if someone comes out of the doorway. Your call..."

Farold muttered under his breath, adding, "This might become a serious problem. Since you seemed more nimble than I, would you mind?"

Ancelote gave a brief nod and makes a sprint for the bottom of the tower as Farold braced himself for anything breaking cover towards him or the others.
Ancelote flew over the rubble, barely slowing at all over the rocky terrain. She noticed a door knocked off it's hinges at the base of the tower, but no other significant features, aside from it's high stone walls. She thought to herself, "I guess the only way to go is up."
She began to climb. Ancelote went in the door. “No sense in putting a big bullseye on my back.� Ancelote found a steel spiral staircase spiraling up the interior of the tower. At the top of the stairs, Ancelote found a closed door.

Farold still scanned the area around them, trying to pick out any anomalies, but spotting nothing.

Ancelote had the feeling the door would be locked, but stried anyway, surprised by the fact that it wasn't. She went through the door cautiously. And found that, about 2 feet past the door, the walkway ends abruptly. At least she'd found the source of a lot of the rubble.

clk-whiiiiirrrr-clink

Farold kept a lookout for approaching trouble while waiting for news (or noise) from Ancelote's position. Ancelote called down, "Farold, the area is clear... except one person and he's most likely too well dressed to want to scrap."She came down the stairs, thinking “It's a little too impolite to just yell it out,� and updated Farold.

He relaxed slightly. "Have you tried talking to him?" he inquired.

Ancelote replied "He wasn't near by. Shall we go talk to him?"

Farold nodded. "That seems a reasonable response. Shall we pause a moment to check on who or whatever you attacked?"

The man, meanwhile, circled around the pile of debris and made his way over to the archway that Ancelote threw her knife into, casually ignoring them.

Ancelote looked embarrassed. "It was a burned corpse..."

Farold responded, "Hmm. I see. Yes, I think we should talk with this gentleman."

Ancelote let Farold go first, since he seemed more polite and better spoken than her.Farold thought to himself, "In that case, it probably wasn't trying to ambush us, but you never know." He approached the gentleman. "Good evening to you sir. Did you call for some assistance?"

The man turns away from the alcove, holding the corpse's head with Ancelote's knife sticking through an eye. "More than a burned corpse, newcomers. This was one of the Primogen's ghouls. Well thrown, though."

Ancelote looked to see if the girl that almost ran them over had arrived yet.

Farold looked darkly amused. "I suspect that the strike was nearly painless. I hope he won't hold it against us."
[ Spoiler ]


Ancelote tried to stifle a smile, but was still pissed at herself for missing what was really going on. "Yeah, I guess I need to work on my ability to catch details more."
Farold shrugged and commented to Ancelote, "The reception was just fine. The sieve needs a little work is all."

The man continued, "I doubt my call would be nearly as powerful as his was. I simply played a part in ensuring that nobody showed up before the fires died." The gentleman smiled before removing the knife and tossing the head back to the rest of the body. "My name is Markus. And I doubt that the Primogen will be terribly upset about it."

Farold nodded his head slightly to Markus. "A pleasure to meet you. So you were part of the triumvirate pushing things away then?"
He then added in a lowered voice, "Farold, Farold Bridger. You seem somewhat familiar, but I am still learning the ropes of this new life and times have been ...distracting... I fear."

Ancelote excused her self and retrieved her dagger. "I'm Ancelote Lefebvre. I haven't been in town long, so it's nice to me others, if nothing else."
She continued "I've had enough of fires of late, so I'm glad I missed this one.� “I'm not sure what you mean," she added to Farold.

Farold whispered to Ancelote, "I heard three voices fighting against the initial call..."

Markus bowed graciously. "A pleasure to meet both of you... and the little one hiding behind the rubble." He raised his voice slightly, "Something told me you would be hungry, young one. Help yourself to the treat I brought."

Mary-Anne slipped out of cover and takes one of the blood bags before retreating to a quiet corner again. Markus smiles and gestures to the remaining two bags. "Help yourselves. We have much to do.�

Ancelote thanked Markus and got herself a bag. However, Farold eyed the blood bags suspiciously for a moment, before taking the bag and excusing himself for a moment and stepping behind a remaining section of wall.

Once everyone had finished their snack, Markus smiled and gestured to the ruins. "Since the Call originated here, I understand if you wish to explore here before continuing on. However, when you are done, please join me at the Asylum Nightclub. If you have no immediate questions, I will take my leave and await your presence there." Something told the three that this wasn't really a request.

Farold_Bridger nodded to Markus and waited for him to leave before speaking. Ancelote looked at Farold to see if he would like to explore before they left.

Markus smiled again and took a bow before walking away, pausing only momentarily to bow to Mary-Anne.

Once Markus had left, Ancelote said "That was creepy as all hell. I'm not to familiar with the whole..." She waved around her head,"...that. So, I'm not sure what went on here."

Farold nodded and replied wryly, “I think it was a Bris gone horribly awry. Either that or another act of senseless semirandom violence such as our fair city hasn't seen in at least three minutes."

Ancelote answered, "Like I said, I'm new to the area. I've gotten the impression that there's been a big shit storm here, but I'm just rolling in from the hills."

Farold explained further, "Well, this may be the nice part, but it is still LA. And there's been a bit of a power struggle amongst our kind recently."

Ancelote frowned. "I see. Bleh. I guess we're going to end up pawns."

Farold nodded, "Something of a given. I personally hope to get far enough across the board for a wardrobe change."He quickly added with a smile, “I think you may have already managed this, however.� He then began taking verbal notes in his tape recorder, which had kept recording all along as he combed the ruins, looking for clues.

Ancelote had played only a smattering of chess (there were so many better games to play growing up), but didn't want to ask for an explanation.

As Farold began picking through the rubble, he didn't find much of interest through the majority of the mansion. Burnt corpses, burnt furniture, burnt books. However, just as he began to lose hope, something made him keep searching. And finally, he found an intact staircase that leads down to a hallway that still looks intact. He called to Ancelote and began exploring the stairs and hallway. As the two vampires carefully trod down the hallway, they discovered that power was still running in parts of the mansion as the lights flickered on and off. At the end of the hall was a steel door while Mary-Anne held back and watched.
Mary-Anne Guyiver
Mary-Anne devoured the contents of the blood bag happily, licking her lips and fingers clean afterwards. That part always reminded her of ice-cream, of sticky fingers and warm summer nights, of Da laughing in his long, lazy, quiet fashion while she told him all about gymnastics practice. Da watched all the videos that Nan took, and he displayed her medals and trophies in big cases in his study. But he never came to watch her. She understood why, now.

This man didn't look much like Da. Too young, for one, and with a curious... smoothness. He reminded Mary-Anne of a cat she had once had, one she had named none-too-creatively Mr. Mittens. Markus, she thought, had the same air of mild interest, the same aloof grace. I do not like thee, Dr. Fell,the reason why, I cannot tell... Mary-Anne's internal monologue began.

Da's voice finished for her. But this I know, and know full well. I will obey whatever you say, because I know better than to piss off a man who surrounds himself with charred corpses, and besides, he has such tasty Handy-Snax.

Once again, Mary-Anne's reply was spoken aloud, if quietly. "Yes, Da." Watching the man and woman strike off in exploration, Mary-Anne suppressed a smile at the tape-recorder he spoke into. She thought it would be only polite to ask if they wanted a ride to the club. Her lips parted, and she took a breath to call out, but Da's voice stopped her cold. Lovely, this is not yet a team effort. Think Survivor, not The Partridge Family.

"Yes, Da.", Mary-Anne walked out of the structure and back toward her car.
Ancelote_Lefebvre
As they crept along the charred hall, Ancelote noticed she and Farold were alone. "Oh, fie. I believe we have been ditched. While the siren song of dancing is tempting, I would rather continue on and find out what is behind this door."
Farold Bridger
Farold chuckled under his breath, "I'm pretty sure I can get us into Asylum without too much hassle. But for now, shall we see what's behind door number three?"
He glanced briefly back at the retreating figure and shrugged before reaching for the door handle.
Mickle5125
chat transcripts

A WiP

Mary-Anne

[ Spoiler ]


Ancelot and Farold

[ Spoiler ]
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