Logs:Blessings of Bathory - Midnight Masks

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Blessings of Bathory - Midnight Masks

Part of Blessings of Bathory

Dramatis Personae

Jackson, Dove, Candle as ST

8 February, 2018


Jackson sets up a meeting with a shadowy figure from the Gala

Location

Local Cemetery



Prologue

'ok. so you're off doing your evening bar crawl and you come upon a ripe young beauty. A young red-headed woman who probably lied about her age to get in but old enough to be out of high school. She's full of smiles, laughter, a bit of a wicked streak wrapped around a fluffy heart of innocence. One might say that she would be tailor made for you. :)'

Jackson would probably seduce her. Dependent on his mood, it helps that all Vampries have that animal magnetism working for them. Buy her some drinks because it's always nice to get a little drunk yourself Then take her out to an alley for a 'make out' session, or back to her place for more. You know.

So you get her into the alley and things are going well enough you're ready to pop our your fangs and feed a little. But soon after you've sunk yourself into her throat you hear something odd. She's...laughing.

Jackson licks the wound close, and would look up. That never happens, the Kiss is way too powerful. He's suspicious now, and not feeling so good. He would pull away, though keep hands on her cause he might have to break her neck

'The woman snickers and turns slightly to give Jackson an appraising glance, her eyes flashing that same smoldering yellow-light that you saw Esbet pull at the Gala. "Look at you being all slick..." she says in a voice too confident and mature for that body. "What? Surprised? Maybe you don't like girls..." and in the span of a blink, the blonde-haired vixen becomes an average looking, if slightly adorkably-cute guy with glasses. "How about this?" The eyes stay those same, twin flames of yellow fire.'

Jackson looks unimpressed. A very, very strong hand closes around her neck as he attempts to pin her with that and her shoulder against the wall of the building in the alley. Just barely light enough pressure on her throat that she can still speak. He licks his lips, maybe slightly concerned about what he just drank from. A growl escapes his throat. "What game are you playing? Who are you?"

'And here I thought you were the smart one..." the adorkably cute guy half-whispers through the pressure at his throat. "Easy there tiger...if you kill this toy it'll take me a while to find another." The guy undulates under your touch as though the restraint was making him somewhat sexually aroused. "But maybe that's what you like...to see them suffer. Is that it?" The guy looks down at the hand holding him and the embers fade leaving a pair of blue-green eyes now full of fear. "What's going on?" He asks confusedly and he attempts to struggle in a futile attempt to escape. The 'presence' seems to have left him momentarily.'

From afar, Jackson growls again, this one is very feral, it's not hard to see the Gangrel in him. "I wouldn't mind seeing you suffer, a little anyway. Maybe we can arrange that?" Then Jackson realzies the eyes changed, he gets it, he's been around long enough. His grip on the throat loosens and then drops completely, patting the kid on the shoudler witht hat now free hand. His other stays pressed to his shoudler, as if he's unaware of it. man he's strong. "You were having an attack kid. Though maybe you had epilepsy. Was trying to hold you down until it passed. I'm no fuckin' doctor though." Jackson doesn't let him go though, not yet. Maybe hoping she returns. Searching those eyes a second. "You okay now?"

'The nerdish boy's head droops a bit as though he was glancing away or to the ground to find his feet once more. "Awww..." the somewhat more mature and seasoned voice mocks before the boy looks back up with the same ember-lit eyes as before. "...you -care- about them, don't you? That's /adorable/." The young man's voice seems to mock a bit as he tilts his head to one side. "But...I haven't the time to fully discuss such things. We should meet somewhere, yes?"'

Jackson watches the boy, but when she returns, he snarls menacingly. "I don't kill my food, only fools do that. Only the foolish wolf lets the sheep see him. I am too old to be a fool. You wish me to snap your toys little neck to make a point though? I will just imagine it is yours." The hand resumes around the boy's neck, not quite as tight, but it would take so little effort for Jackson to do what he threatens. Hopefully she can feel it through whatever bond she has with the vessel. "But yes, meet. Your warehouse, I was already planning to come see you. Convenient, no?" He gives the address of said warehouse. "See you there, yeah?"

'Only if you want to die, pet. No. For this meeting I don't want anyone else overhearing. I would suggest something a bit more intimate. This toy has the instructions in his pocket." There's a faint pause as the boy looks Jackson up and down approvingly once more. "Don't wear anything complicated..." And with that, the embers in the guys eyes vanish once more.'

Jackson chuckles, dryly, it lacks humor. "Oh, I'm sure it's me you should be worried about dying." Jackson reaches down into the boys pockets, each one until he finds the paper he's looking for and palms it. A look back up at the eyes. "Oh I'll come prepared, don't worry sweetheart." Then the boy is coming back and Jackson releases him again. "Man, you should see a doctor, bud." He releases him fully and pats him on the shoulder once. "Go have a drink, you've had a rough night." Maybe she can hear him, maybe she can't without the possession, but he very clearly mutters. "I'm going to kill that bitch."

Midnight Masks

JacksonPeace.png
Dove1.jpg
Bathory-Esbet-02.jpg

The evening has come and the two vampires have found a quiet little corner of the cemetery to perform the supposed summoning ritual. T'would take some time to dig up or otherwise aquire a skull but the other materials, candles and blood, were a breeze. All they need to do is to find the skull, put it on a tombstone, light candles on either side of it, sprinkle with some fresh blood and speak the words. Easy, right?

Yes, yes, digging up a skull is definitely difficult. Just acquiring a skull might be. Blood from his fridge, check, he's not using his vitae for this. Candles, check. Tombstone, check, check. Jackson has a small backpack with him, probably with the supplies. He did not listen to 'Esbet' at all. He is dressed as he always is, leather jacket, wife beater, jeans. He's filled in Dove on the encounter from before. What Esbet can do, what she said, all that. They have come prepared. He glances sideways at Dove. "Unless you keep skulls around, we'll have to dig one up." She did know the supply list beforehand and she is a Crone. He doesn't know what queer things they do. A glance around the cemetery, maybe for people around, or cameras, or any of that. Grave digging is a crime after all.

"I got a text from Charley telling me not to come tonight. Which isn't a good sign considering the fact that she had no idea we were doing this." But here she is anyway, because Dove isn't about to let Jackson go this one alone, not against another crazypants vampire. In fact, she spent the last few hours coming up with every protection she could think of to cast on Jackson before they even stepped foot into the cemetary. "I'm a crone, not a necromancer, I'm afraid I don't really carry skulls around in my back pocket. Sorry."

Whether a combination of vampiric strength or a -really- sharp shovel, it doesn't seem to take too long to get through the earth between the pair and the old grave that doesn't have the concrete lid protecting the casket. The remains are not but rags and bones but sure enough there's a skull just waiting there to be used. Grabbing it and climbing out of the pit to place it on the Tomb, Jackson readies himself for the summoning. Candles lit, carefully, blood sprinkled and now for the words. The syllables don't seem to be of any known language, mostly just a mixture of sounds strung together but finishing with the phrase, "Queen of Blood...we invoke thee!"

"Yeah I'll say, but sometimes you need answers, you go to the source. But maybe she meant something else. That's kind of a cryptic message. That's why we came prepared." A shrug at her. "Like I know anything about crones. You could very well have a shed of skulls." She knows he doesn't know much about blood magic. It all seems so pagan to him. Then he does the ritual, carefully lighting the candles after digging out a skull. He's going to try and put things back as properly as possible later. "I suspect an attack, likely why she wanted it somewhere out here." A glance at Dove. "Well, Izzy does like to refer to her as Bloody Mary, if indeed, this is Bloody Mary, so, you know. Would that make the amulet at the museum hers? You said Blood Magic, didn't you?" He doesn't look ill at ease, but he's cautious and watching seemingly everywhere. On guard.

A chilling breeze whips across the grounds of the old cemetery as if in answer to their call and shortly afterwards a pair of feet can be heard approaching through the brush. The figure, at first nothing more than a shadowy silhouette, eventually reveals itself to be the adorkably cute, book nerd from earlier - not that the form means much. Wearing khaki pants, duck boots, and an LL Bean winter coat, the faintest of light bounce off the lenses of his glasses as he approaches the two. "You did /not/ need to shout...I heard you," he smiles and approaches with a quiet confidence to his steps. "Hello again Tiger..." the nerd smiles to Jackson with the faintest hint of a sultry tone to his voice. "And you brought a pet..." he adds with a glance to Dove.


Jackson's eyes go over to the sound of feet and then the approaching shadow. He looks, once more, unimpressed to see the boy emerge, rather than the woman he was expecting. "I see, you were too cowardly to come in person. Or is this your form? Can you shift to the Lady from the museum? Do you even have a real form?" A brow raises at that, he's even less concerned now. A glance at Dove and then back. "Well, she likes to meet all my admirers, though I'd hardly call her a pet. I don't like anything on a leash. Boring. Don't you think? Ruins the game. That kind of stuff really is for cowards." There, he said it a second time. Though he watches the boy very carefully, bracelets and collars, not a chance he's letting him close enough for that.

"I would assume the amulet is hers, yes. It was crawling in blood magic, bathed in the blood of... well, lets just go with a -lot- of virgins." Dove shrugs a little, shifting closer to Jackson as the boy appears. Her feet part a little, hunkering down in he rposition there. "Everything that's going on right now and you're wasting your time trying to flirt with this one? Here I thought you were clever." Dove's tongue clicks a little with dissaproval. "I'm disappointed. You seemed so much MORE at the gala."

The young man shrugs his adorkably cute shoulders and as they fall back to a resting pose the image of the red-haired and ember-eyed woman from the Gala stands before them. "If you wish," she doesn't seem to matter what form she takes. "...but there are so much more interesting shapes to take. How about this?" and in another breath she becomes Dove. Same clothes, same hair, posture and even that quirky way she occasionally bites her lip when she's thinking hard. "Yes...this is -much- more fun." The figure, for sexual pronouns are sort of up in the air with this one, turns to Dove and asks, "You know my ways..." it's not so much of a question but more of a statement, "...tell me, Childe...how strong are we here?"


Jackson bends down, grabbing a pebble, mostly unseen off the ground. He palms it, but it doesn't appear to be for any real reason because he just straightens up again, watching. He lets Dove, answer the question because it's addressed to her, and he doesn't understand it anyway. "I am assuming, at some point, you have a point to make or something to say? You did ask me to come. Admittedly alone, but I never liked rules. So who are you? What are you? And should I call Countess Bathory? Actually, I've never really like formalities. Elizabeth? Lizzy?"

"That is a lot better, it's true." Dove tilts her head to study the woman taking her form, gesturing for her to give a little turn, if she will. "Even better than a mirror!" Who is the drama queen again? "While I may not be as old as you, I have not been a Childe for a very long time. So if you expect cooperations, you'll do well to remember that." Her nose scrunches up at the question, however. "There are individuals among us who are strong in the ways. But as a group, we falter under leadership that seems to care more about respect due to them by position, rather than actual guidance. The Kindred here are strong, but ununified." She watches Jackson as he picks up the rock, reaching up to gently press her hand against his back, only for a moment. Silent reassurances maybe.

The expression on the figure's face could be read as disappointment and possibly a bit of consideration like she were having to fall back and attempt to implement a different plan. Jackson's name for it draws the emeber eyes up to him once more and she licks her lips a bit. "I have many names...many faces. I care not what you call me." She lies blatently. "Unfortunate that we lack guidance here. But...you know..." she starts to walk around the tombstone and the open grave a bit as she walks, shifting back to the Gala form with the long black dress for some reason, "If you had the strength to seize it...power -could- be yours." The embers turn to Jackson and adds, "You know of what I speak. Don't you. You're -so- close to understanding what is at risk, aren't you?"


"Lizzy it is then." Jackson does so like nicknames. And maybe he caught the lie, maybe he's decide to push its buttons. "I'm also not convinced you are one of us. I've been around a few centuries now, Lizzy. Never seen one of us with your talents. Curious, that. Maybe I'm still just young. But yes, unfortunate about the state of things here. Somebody should grab power. The Prince is pathetic. I wouldn't mind the job myself." He cracks his neck, loudly. Watching her like a hawk, or more specifically, like a wolf on the prowl, like an Alpha wolf that has suddenly discovered another on their territory. It's a dance. "Power can always be yours. But it's always at a price, and it's always at the leisure of those offering it." His arms fold over his chest, still clutching the pebble in one hand. "I suspect you want the amulet. I also suspect you can't take it, or you would have. I know a few men in uniforms wouldn't stop me. So tell me about it. And tell me why your men from Sentinel don't just give it to you?" Jackson's catching on, very, very quickly now that pieces are falling into place.


"I could have seized it at the museum. It might have been a short seizing, but nonetheless, it's something I could have done. But then, we both know there's a chance that the power could have swollowed me up as if I were nothing, too." It's clear from Dove's tone that she was tempted to do exactly that. "You've done quite a good job on that amulet. It's incredibly impressive." Her hand pulls back to herself, tucking into the back pocket of her jeans as she glances from the Blood Queen, to Jackson, and back. "I don't seek to lead. I seek to protect and to unify. That is where true power lies."

"Would that I could, Tiger. Would that I could." her long fingers flex and twitter at her sides like the angry flicking of a cat's tail. "But, for now, the humans are an obstacle that I permit because of...other concerns." She seems to notice -just- how much that Jackson has put together and turns to Dove as she revealed her plans at the museum. "Pitty...it would have been so interesting to see them use their tek-nol-o-gee to render you powerless." The word is almost foreign to her. As though she's unaccustomed to speaking it. "But...I musn't tarry much longer," she looks around searchingly as though waiting for something to happen, "...I will make -you- this bargain," she focuses on Jackson. "...seize the power. Take it from those who do not deserve it and I will, /IT/ will serve you in this life and the next." The figure extends her arm to Jackson waiting for it to be taken to 'seal the deal'.

"Oh come on Dovey, don't be fuckin' naïve. Protect and unify is a ridiculous fuckin' ideal. Power is to be taken and wielded by those powerful enough to do so. Nothing more, nothing less. People with ideals just get stomped on." A brow raises though, back at IT. "Other concerns? Do tell. Something to do with a Storm Hag? Storms, maybe?" He's testing the waters, maybe see if what was said the other night has any bearing. Constantly watching her. The technology, that word curious. He knows only one thing that has rendered someone powerless. The bracelets and the collar. His silent, trying to put pieces together. THEM. Who is them? He doesn't say it out loud though. His eyes follow hers, as if searching for whatever she is. Always alert. Then eyes go back to her. "Well, I could use a slave or two. But is trading one master for another really what you want? I mean.../IT/ wants." Yeah he caught that. "Who does it serve now?" A shake of his head though, no hand offered. "I don't really like shaking hands. Not my thing. Besides too much collaring going on lately, I'm sure you've heard." He's agreed to nothing.

"I know, Jacks. You keep telling me that, but I cannot help these rose colored glasses." Dove sighs wistfully, running her free hand through her hair as she looks off for a moment. She's watching the area with a little more subtlety, ears alert and watching for any sort of shifts in the environment. Jackson can watch the woman, she'll watch for other potential ambushes. "I don't know," she offers idly. "I bet I'd look pretty cute in a collar." Her fingers idly rub along her throat. "I can't imagine that it'd be fun to be powerless, though. Would that just turn us back into corpses? Without the vitae's power to animate us?"

"Don't be fooled by such idle trinkets of deceit Tiger," she seems to answer some thought or comment that wasn't made audibly. "They have more than 'jewelry' at their disposal. They see in many places." Her eyes dart up and towards the entrance of the cemetery and then back to Jackson. "Don't trust the witch. She'll turn on you as fast as a scorpion." Emebers flick up and past the two once more a bit nervously. "Refuse my blessing at your own peril...I will only offer it once."

Jackson glances at Dove, he can't help but make a little grin for some reason, but it's quick. And then Dove is theorizing. "I doubt it would kill us, but I'm not really wanting to find out. Tell you what, we find a collar, you can have it." Jackson smirks, patting Dove on the head. Then he's serious again. Taking in Lizzy. "You mean like diamond shaped shards? Or maybe skulls?" Again, he's testing the waters, there's a lot to be learned from even her reactions. "I bet you guys all say that. Don't trust her, don't trust this one. Problem is, Lizzy, I don't trust the whole fuckin' lot of you." His eyes go with hers to the entrance and then back. "I think I'm starting to put some pieces together here and if it's all the same Lizzy, I'm going to refuse. I'm fine on my own. You know what the real trap of power is, owing it to someone else. I'd rather just take it. Maybe I'll see what your amulet does for myself. I think I might."

Reaching back out towards Jackson, Dove presses her nails not-so-gently into his spine before quickly dragging her nails on his skin. She's spelling something out. C-A-R-S. It looks like little more possessive touching, her fingers under his shirt. Outwardly there isn't much change outside of the beaming smile that touches her lips as he pats her on the head. Her eyes twinkle up at him. "Promises promises," she swoons. The comment about the Hag being a scorpion? Well, there's a flash of sudden smugness, and a certain degree of 'called it' on the woman's features. Her nails dig a little harder into his spine.

"Good..." the woman says, seemingly grateful that Jackson -didn't- take her up on the offer. With another flick towards the gate she straightens her form and looks down to the skulls and other elements of the summoning. "Do yourself a favor and get rid of all of this and leave the grounds at once. They're coming and they won't be asking any questions." she turns to walk towards the nearest bunch of shadows for a dramatic exit and turns her head to look over her shoulder leaving only the twin ember lights of her eyes to stare back at both of them as her form disolves away.

Jackson doesn't feel the spelling against his skin, that's difficult to do, especially when Dove could simply be clawing him affectionately. He does note the clawing as something out of the ordinary at this place in time. It makes him more alert, and he follows her eyes around the place. Celerity suddenly active, but he's not moving to escape, maybe, just maybe he wants to see what Lizzy is so afraid of. He looks back to the Blood Queen. "See, stuff like that makes me not want to trust anything you say, Lizzy. You see the problem, I hope." At her warning, he moves to blow out the candles and gather it up shove it back in the backpack, put the skull back, but not putting the dirt back, yet. "Maybe I want to ask some questions, Lizzy. Maybe they should be concerned about me." His hands flex, and ball into fists and back. Then she's gone and he's hastily throwing the dirt back into the hole over the grave. He's not dumb though, bravado sure, but not dumb. He pulls Dove with him, if he has to. "Come on, let's get some distance, but I want to see who these fuckers are." He looks for a good spot to spy.

A minute or two after Jackson and Dove have gotten out of the way and under cover, two groups of six men, all in tactical black uniforms, sweep through the area. Armed with automatic small arms, each group has one man with a visor-like pair of ballistic glasses on. The teams fan out in a tactical pattern that would surround the grave that the pair were just at and then close in quickly - almost expecting to find someone there. One of the visored men approaches the grave and looks around very carefully and then around the area as though he were picking up on details that may not be immediately evident. Radio chatter is short and clipped. It deals with their deployment, a comment on a 'surge detected from Oracle in this grid square', and 'the object showed a spike as well'. The comments seem to be dealing with the same event: an object having an energy spike and something called Oracle detecting it. "Hemophage detected..." one of the visored men informs the others as it looks closely at the dirt around the grave.

"They're slaves, but how?" Jackson barely whispers that to Dove, examining every bit of their uniforms, their technology. His voice dropping off completely as the men draw near the grave, listening to everything he can. Observing everything about them. Oracle and the object. Able to detect blood, it seems. It's all noted in his mind. Then he pulls Dove away into the Shadow, or carries her if he has to. Much to do, much to figure out.