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[V20] Maiden, Mother, Crone

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Characters
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Bela Dragosani

Bela frowns, and his lips curl back in disgust.
"I suspected as much," he says, "but I am displeased to be correct."
He instructs Miranda to wait by the door, and trusts that she will watch in silence, then circles the restrained vampire.
"Before I begin any interrogation or examination, what more can you tell me of this subject?"
 
"A respected member of the local community, which makes their choice to use him puzzling. Surely they could have played their games with those whose absence would be less noticed? He possesses a high command of the Presence Discipline, unusual in one so young, especially since his sire told him nothing about what he was. He claims he was abducted in his sleep and then found himself restrained in a lab, with...something growing in his stomach. Another Kindred -- his sire, I assume -- used a scalpel to cut him open and release...something that buzzed. After that, he claims to recall nothing until he regained consciousness in an abandoned building."
 
Bela Dragosani

Bela strokes his chin, thoughtful.
"Baali delight in suffering and chaos," he says, "and it would surprise me not at all if their magic required one of significant blood."
He rolls up his sleeves and flexes his fingers, standing over the vampire.
"Let us see if there is anything to be gleaned from the flesh..."

Lightly, he runs his finger over the scar he first saw in the photograph, splitting it like a seam before inserting his hand and peeling muscle, fat, and flesh away. He is less careful than usual - this one will receive no mercy, now or when he is done.
 
Justine watches. "Please try not to destroy him completely, boyar. He was one of my herd, previously, and I still consider his ultimate fate to be my responsibility."
 
Bela Dragosani

"Of course, Madame Adler. You have my recommendation," he murmurs.
 
Bela & Justine

The insides of Christopher Nelson's abdominal cavity is like nothing either of the two Kindred now observing him has have seen. The man's internal organs have been sown together such that they connect in ways that would be almost immediately fatal were he alive. The vast powers of the blood have begun repairing the harm, but they are far from finished. What is more, inside his stomach and intestines, Bela finds what are unmistakably bloated, oversized fly-eggs, most newly hatched, but a few still sealed up. The smell, of course, is utterly disgusting. Rot, death and corruption to such an extent that it would overpower all but the strongest, and they can both be quite happy that they no longer take solid forms of sustenance.

Miranda, standing by the door, is less accustomed to the nature of Death, and promptly departs the august company of the two vampires in search of a toilet. Juliette follows unobtrusively to ensure that she is successful in her endeavor.
 
Bela Dragosani

Fascinated, Bela says nothing, sorting through the organs like a craftsman admiring the work of another. When he's content with his exploration, he takes the fly eggs - sealed or not - as samples for further study, and closes the body back up.
"I know of no other power than Vicissitude that could do such a thing," he admits. "But if anyone was to possess a rival, it would be Baali. Thoughts, Madame Adler?"
 
"I agree with you," Justine says, frowning, "and it leads me to wonder what the flies are might be a vector for, and whether we've just exposed ourselves to something. It would be a piquant piece of irony, and one the Baali would relish, those seeking to investigate their scheme became responsible for furthering them. For it's too much to hope -- is it not? -- that they're simply breeding insect ghouls."
 
Bela Dragosani

"It would be most droll," Bela agrees. "I have no doubt the insects are means to an end."
He holds one of the grotesque eggs up to his eye and peers at it.
"And what terrible end? Hm. May I trouble you for a jar?"
 
Justine departs, and returns quickly with a recently washed fruit jar and lid, left over from one of Juliette's sparse meals. "I also wonder," she says as she hands it to Bela, "whether this unfortunate childe is the only test subject. Have there been any rumors of newly created Kindred -- or more likely, traces of newly destroyed ones?"
 
Bela Dragosani

Bela places the eggs in the jar and seals it.
"Likely there are more. The Tremere that was in my care spoke of dreams about insects, plague, and sundry other filth," he says, with a sneer. "The Prince must be informed to most efficiently root out this infection."
 
Justine grimaces, but nods. "I would have preferred to involve as few people as possible in this: I dislike having too much attention paid to my domain. And the Prince will doubtless demand this one's immediate destruction. I would prefer to keep him intact as long as possible: my instincts tell me he may still be of use. Still, you are right: we cannot leave the Prince in the dark about this threat."
 
Bela Dragosani

He nods, sympathetic.
"I would be wary of keeping this one in your home," Bela says, "in the meantime, shall we attempt further questioning?"
 
"Believe me, boyar, I am well aware of the risk. Thank you for your kind concern, though," says Justine. "We should blindfold him first, to make it harder for him to use Presence." She turns to a chest of drawers, and rifles through it swiftly until she finds a linen handkerchief which she applies to the purpose. "He will need vitae as well, is we want to hear anything other than screams and roars -- he went into a frenzy last night and very likely burned through the last of his own," she adds matter-of-factly.
 
Bela Dragosani

"Hm," Bela ponders, "where best to procure the vitae for this purpose?" he asks, circling the restrained vampire again, idly rattling the contents of the jar.
 
Landon

His hand reaches out for the officer's shoulder - a simple, reassuring gesture - before he begins his preparations. The protection is appreciated; the smell is not. "Got you - it already stinks tremendously." The squeaking sound of latex can be heard as he rubs his hands; making sure that the gloves are not a hindrance. "And that's flies, right? Just how many are there? Any idea how long since it happened?" Before the officer can answer, Landon quickly shakes his head. "Ah, don't even tell me, I'll see for myself. Meant to give you another opinion, after all." The heavy door is all that seperates him from his task; as he pushes, he turns around. "Take your time; I'll need a few minutes anyway."
 
Landon

"Yeah, it's flies. Fuckers like places like this," Roberts says and spits, vaguely in the direction of the warehouse. He opens his mouth to answer the rest of Landon's questions, but stops and nods as the Gangrel interrupts.

The smell hits him like a wall of disgust as the heavy doors swing open, and the buzzing of the flies rises like to cacophony. Landon finds himself in a short hallway with heavy pieces of clear plastic separating him from the warehouse itself. Beyond this purgatory, the central chamber of the warehouse awaits. As he steps through the gate of hell, such as it is, Landon can feel the Beast rise within him, but for now he maintains control. The sight that greets him is a plethora of tables arranged around a central open space. If there is a pattern to their arrangement, he does not grasp it, they seem placed at random, so long as there is room around them and room in the middle. On each table is what was once a living, breathing person. Now, they are something less than corpses. Bloated monstrosities teeming with flies, seeping wounds covering their skin and their stomachs universally cut open.
 
Álvaro pressed the button to end the call, and quickly put the device in his pocket. He went over his belongings once more, starting with the sword securely wrapped to hide it's appearance, followed by his revolver and enough ammunition in case things go south tonight. Lastly, he patted his leg, where a rather large knife was strapped and hidden from sight. With his weapons firmly secured and the item to be traded in hand, Álvaro finally left the hotel room and slowly made his way to the meeting point he had agreed to.

Once there he was sure he would not have to wait long for his crew, and was content to wait by a corner as he leaned on a nearby wall and stared at the moonlight in the sky.
 
"I maintain a small supply, for when my herd is not immediately available," Justine replies. "If you will excuse me a minute..."

I shall have to make arrangements with Mr. Vandal again soon, she thinks, as she heads quickly to the kitchen. All these guests are putting a strain on my hospitality.

She soon returns, carrying a blood bag, which she unstops, placing the three small tubes inside the blindfolded vampire's mouth. "You may unstake him now, Boyar, but please be careful. He's quite strong."
 
Álvaro

The Gangrel is indeed correct that his wait is not long, mere minutes pass before C.C.'s car comes roaring down the street at a pace that is quite definitely above the speed limit. The breaks and tires shriek as his two new henchmen pull up next to Álvaro and Rámon opens the window with a grin, "what's up, boss?"
 
Landon

As soon as the bodies are in view, the vampire stops dead in his tracks, clenching his teeth at the sight. His eyes wander restlessly from one point of disgust to another, hardly focussing on any one detail as he tries to grasp what happened - his grim expression suggests a lack of success for now. Thus, he slowly begins to walk closer, carefully making sure that he does not step into any nasty surprises; his first destination is the open space surrounded by the tables. Once there, he slowly spins around, trying to notice any particular pattern and picking up whatever sticks out apart from the dead bodies. Does the scene look rather chaotic, or does it seem like the precise work of someone who knew what he was doing? Are there any tools to be found? Lastly - counting as he slowly turns, just how many tables, and thus bodies, are there?
 
Bela Dragosani

"A useful technique that may serve you well in future, Madame Adler, is to hammer a nail behind the Achilles tendon," Bela says, gripping the stake, "at the very least, it prevents a captive from running."
He steps back as he pulls the stake free.
 
Landon

As he approaches the central space, the hairs on Landon's neck rise and the Beast that gnaws forever on his soul pulls at its fetters once more. In the middle of the room is a large tin tub that is perhaps two by four feet, too small to fit an adult, but perhaps large enough for a young child. The floor around the tub is traced with blood in what appears to Landon as arcane patterns, though if they're just there to freak people the fuck out or if they actually serve a purpose is beyond him. There seems to be writing, but it's not in an alphabet he recognizes. The tub itself is half-full of stale blood as well, and from the splash patters around it, something has come out of it.

OOC: Give me Perception + Survival, difficulty 7

Bela & Justine

The man gasps as the torn-off piece of coffin is removed from his chest and desperately tries to rise, but his shackles keep him in place. He lets out a feral snarl as his back touches the table once more, and for a moment he struggles against his chains. Then he seems to regain control of himself, as if the Beast has momentarily retreated to the back of his consciousness. For now, though he holds together and manages to gasp out: "Mistress? Mistress, what is going on here?"
 
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Landon

The Gangrel moves carefully towards the tub in the center, taking care to not step in any of the blood (a task that gets harder as he closes in on it). Once as close as he can get, he squats down and carefully touches the blood with his gloved hand. At once, the blood seems to come alive, rushing up the glove, burning through it as it goes, and cold, black flames envelop the vampire's outstretched hand. In a lucid moment before the pain hits him, he realizes that it's not all the blood that behaves in this hateful way and that the flames freeze his hand rather than burn them. After that, the only thing he senses is the Beast howling in agony.

OOC: Enjoy 1 point of Aggravated damage (you make Soak with difficulty 7 if you have Fortitude), and roll Courage difficulty 7 to avoid Rötschreck.
 
Landon

The vampire's face clearly shows his inner struggles - just surprise at first, but quickly pain and that absent look between rage and panic. His body acts quicker than his mind, reflexively pulling back his hand; the damage, however, is already done. It takes long seconds until he can examine how badly the icy fire hurt the dead flesh; and he only gives his hand a quick glance once he finally regains control over the howling parts of his mind. His eyes hectically scan the surrounding, though they mostly focus on the sudden threat: The blood that suddenly turned on him as if it had a will on its own - was it just the blood in the central tub, or also parts that are splattered on the floor? Is it still there, posing a threat, or did it vanish in the process? And, before he makes any kind of reasonable decision - does he spot any immediate threat, or any sign of whatever was in the tub to begin with?
 
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