Oh, what a Weird New World

1444 - He was invited by Claudius Giovanni to his house for dinner. When he realized that they had gotten one little word of the invitation wrong and he was the dinner it was to late. And only a few minutes after the castle was attacked he found himself dead and one of the walking kind. Three days later he killed his Sire. Four days after his Embrace he witnessed the death of a demigod.

1453 - after more than twenty years of struggle, he had to admit his defeat by the Turks and the loss of his city, golden Constantinople. So he left.

1869 - he reached San Francisco and settled down, still accepting neither Camarilla nor Sabbat law.

1997 - Nicos got caught between a Pack of Sabbat vampires and a group of determined Brujah. He told himself to vamoose. With no possibly to retreat to his haven he was looking for alternatives and settled for the cellar of a school. It seemed like a good idea, because the sky was turning gray.

When he woke, he still believed to be dreaming, Many voices were chattering, and there was music. A song he remembered all to well, 1666 when he had met that bastard Hardestadt again. This couldn't be possible. He started to laugh. Not possible! By the Dark Mother, not possible. He enjoyed the feeling of laughter rolling up his throat. The laughter even washed away the bad taste of last day's nightmare.

'Ok, let's take a look.' He fumbled himself out from under some blankets and took away the old bathtub which he had used to barricade the door. The boosting of his strength left him somewhat peckish. He remembered that he hadn't fed for about two weeks.

'I'm getting old,' he sighed, 'old, slow and careless.' He had to grin, thinking of his old weapons' master who used to say the same, but still kicked his ass on a regular basis.

The voices from above sounded young. He took out his mirror, an antique actually, and started to rework his face. When he was satisfied with the results he started climbing up the stairs.

He stopped before he opened the door. There were two youngsters talking.

"Thou art my love. Me heart I gave to thee"

Nicos' hand froze on the handle. Old time words.....with an American accent. He opened the door. Looked out and closed it again. He stood there in the darkness, thinking. Out there,... an explosion in a time machine maybe .... a Malkavian party .... the annual meeting of Weirdoes Illuminated... He shook his head. Human beings. He looked again and left the basement. The people out there were wearing vaguely medieval clothes.

A woman in a bright Tudor dress swept out of a nearby room, spotted him and dragged him with her, back into the room.

"You can't walk around like this. The prince will be here any moment."

"The Prince? But..."

She threw a piece of cloth at him, he caught it without thinking.

"Here this should fit" He unfolded it.

"You don't expect me to wear this! Do you know who I ..." He stopped himself surprised by what he was saying. She looked surprised, too.

"Oh, I'm sorry M'lord. I surely have something more fitting for you. I hope it fits." She started to giggle.

Nicos hoped his confusion did not show on his face. He decided to play along with these weirdoes to find out what was going on. He took the woman's hand, bowed down and kissed it and enjoyed the shudder that went through her.

"M'lady, I thank thee for thy gracious offer" The hunger stirred, he grinned, not too wide. What she finally pulled out of a chest looked so much like the clothes Antonio had been wearing on that fateful April evening that Nicos smiled to himself; he started to enjoy this game whatever it was. He had to think of Antonio sitting in his important position, boring himself into Torpor, not even knowing it. When he started to undress the lady hurryingly left the room. Nicos looked into the mirror and thought that today he was definitely better looking than Antonio. He corrected his eyebrows a little bit.

The time machine explosion outside was really weird. The shock wasn't quite so bad the second time around, but still bad enough.

" ...Ok. Now double left, double right aaaand reverence to the lady..." In the middle of the hall a group of humans practiced a dance Nicos had seen before at some petty noble's court in Italy long time ago, but back then they still had musicians and not ghettoblasters. Scattered along the walls people were sitting, doing "old time" things; playing chess, doing embroidery, someone drew a beautiful scroll discussing his computer problems with a sympathetic looking lady wearing a crown. The hall was a gymnasium with an incredible potential for ugliness. Someone had tried to create some atmosphere by hanging crude banners unto the walls. But still there was a kind of glamour in this place, these people had created a dreamworld. While he was still admiring the colorful chaos he got distracted by bashing sounds and loud voices. When he walked towards the noise a beautiful young woman joined him, smiling brightly at him.

"Ah, Doña Maguerita found something for you. Looks great. You're headin' for the fightin'?" He looked at her a little absent. "Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Lady Irena or Tammy Johnston in the mundane world." She thrusted her hand towards him.

'Fighting?' he thought and tried to collect himself as fast as possible. Smiling he took her hand, bend over it not quite kissing it.

"Antonio de Valez. At your service m'lady" She wasn't beautiful, but incredibly cute, with dark curly hair and pale skin, but the best was her blood. It smelled young, rich and strong. But he knew that wasn't enough for him,. Still, something was missing..."It would be marvelous if you could show me way" he said and looked deep into her eyes. He got the reaction he wanted. Her face went red, her heartbeat fastened, yes he was getting nearer to what he wanted.

They went towards an open plaza. After they worked their way through the gathered crowd, they could see a group of about 15 men and two women wearing self-made armor out of scraps of metal, leather and, as he noticed, plastic barrels. Some of them were artful handiwork, but some looked like a Bone Gnawer's Fetish. They found a place in the front row. He watched the fighting while Tammy explained the rules of the game. And a game it was. A few of the fighter were pretty good. Nicos enjoyed the combat. These days there weren't many opportunities to watch swordplay. After a while Tammy noticed that he seemed to know something about swordfighting as he started commenting what happened on the field. After a while a fighter in a very light looking armor entered the stage. He greeted Tammy with his sword and glared at Nicos through the bars of his helmet. He had a short argument with the marshal about armor regulations. Tammy told Nicos that this was her boyfriend. She looked a little unhappy.

"Mike's a stickjock." she continued at his inquiring look, "That means he loves to pick up fights, talks about nothing but fighting and armor and thinks he's the best one around. Aw, he's an ass. And he's jealous so maybe you should leave me alone." Nicos smiled his reassuring sharkgrin and started making comments on Mike's fighting style or the lack thereof, pointed out mistakes, and noticed that actually Mike wasn't such a bad fighter. Shortly after the fight, Mike came over to them. His whole body language said, I'm an arrogant bastard, and you have strayed into my territory. Nicos controlled himself not to smile. He was going to enjoy what was about to happen.

"I was told you have not only besmirched my honor as fighter but also the honor of my Lady. Come out here and fight like a man, faggot, or are you afraid?" Nicos looked at the wooden swords. They didn't have sharp tips. Hell, why not?

"But he's not..." Tammy started.

"Okay"

"You can have Geoffrey's armor. Geoff! Show him how it works." Nicos bowed to the lady and gave her his sweetest smile.

"Be careful", she whispered. Oh, yes he would enjoy this one. He followed Geoffrey into one corner of the plaza, where he rid himself of the renaissance garb, just left the leggings on.

'Damn! I should have gotten rid of the tattoo. Too late; so Nicos, just remember to stay cool', he told himself.

Geoffrey stared at the dragon that wound itself up his arm and laid his head on his chest.

"Wow, that's cool. Where'd you get this?"

"Chicago. What am I supposed to do with this strap?"

"Fasten this over there. Are you Yakuza?"

"It's not on my back. And this plate?" Geoffrey gave up and helped him into the armor. Well, armor, hmm, a couple of plastic plates were sewn into a coat made of fabric and padded with soft foam. The shoulders, elbows and knees were made of stainless steel (something he would have killed for back when he was still alive), as was the helmet. The whole thing was a little loose but extremely comfortable and flexible. It felt good. Not much of a protection against a real sword, but quite suitable for its purpose. He tested the wooden sword while Geoffrey warned him, "Mike is as mean as a rattler.". Nicos took up a wooden shield with a hand protection made out of a street sign, nodded and prepared for battle.

Mike was waiting for him, smiling confidently. Nicos looked around and noticed a dark woman standing beside Tammy, watching him intensely . She had watched him before, he remembered now. He smiled and bowed towards Tammy.

His opponent held his two-handed sword with his right hand and waved Nicos towards him, then went into a waiting position. Nicos stood there motionless, patiently waiting for Mike to make the first move. He met the dark woman's eyes again. She smiled like the cat who got the cream and he almost missed Mike's first move. The greatsword came down in a great swing only to change direction in the very last moment. The vampire danced out of its way, brought his "blade" up behind Mikes guard and hit him in the armpit. With a real sword this would have killed a mortal. Mike simply ignored the blow and swung his sword in a great arch to strike his foe's unguarded back. Nicos felt the blow coming, lunged forward and rolled over his shoulder, straining his shield arm. He came up neatly, but hissing with pain, and saw the "stickjock" charging him. The powerful blow was met by a shield as unmoving as a wall. Mike managed to use the blow's force and redirected it, still staying out of reach of the shorter sword. This time Nicos caught the stick with his own and moved forward with a swift turn, dodged the greatsword and got Mikes head with a beautiful wrapshot. He heard not only the helm ringing but also Mikes voice: "Light" he declared. As Nicos moved away from his foe, he heard somebody muttering "rhinohide". Mike started a series of fast and hard blows, which Nicos blocked easily, waiting for his opponent to tire. From time to time he would strike him with hard blows aiming at unprotected places with the intention to inflict pain. He was quite successful. He saw Mike gritting his teeth.

Mike was determined not to show anything to the spectators. His frustration grew. He hadn't been able to place a single blow yet. "Light...light...too low...light...glance" he managed through clenched teeth.

Somebody in the crowd said that Mike was setting new standards for rinohiding.

Nicos felt good. He hadn't felt that good in decades. Oh, how he had missed having a real opponent and the best was there would be no corpses left lying around. He moved swiftly in the light armor, almost like a dancer, taunting his opponent, playing with him like a cat with a mouse. He didn't use any of his vampiric powers. It would have spoiled the fun. Apart from that he couldn't afford to spend any of his low blood reserves, for it would bring him too near to the beast. And THAT would REALLY spoil the fun.

Tammy gripped the chair so tight that her knuckles shone white. She followed the fight exited not knowing whether to cheer at Antonio for beating some sense into Mike, or to run to Mike to protect him. She decided for Antonio. He was friendlier, stylisher, a better fighter, interested in her and definitely better looking. A little eerie but that was cool.

The dark woman who called herself Lizzie Dugan and sometimes Imaij followed every movement of the stranger, fascinated by the fighter's skill. Ymaj, the beautiful Eshu, drank the glamour of the sword-dancer thirstily, her eyes shining brightly, for the moment forgetting all her worries about the interest the leech had shown in her friend Tammy

Nicos had forgotten about the spectators, the plastic armor, that the sword he held was made of rattan and which century they were having at the moment. There were only he, his opponent and a very old rhythm. He smiled.

Then Mike snapped, he went berserk. He roared like a wounded bear; He would show it to this slimy weasel. And charged, bringing down his huge stick with shield smashing force. Nicos sidestepped him and let him run with his head into the sword. The noise of the clash was so loud that Ymaj wondered if Mike, now sitting on his ass, looking stupid, might have gone deaf.

Nicos went over to Geoffrey, who seemed to have forgotten to close his mouth, and dropped out of his armor.

"Thank you, kind Gentle!" With that he turned, slipped into the renaissance garb and went back to were the ladies were standing. Back to his supper.

The glow in Ymaj's eyes was just beginning to fade when he came back. He looked into her angry eyes which said, don't try anything with me. He recognized her as one of the Fair Folk, most probably one of the wanderer tribe the Eshu, and smiled amused. Really. Manipulating minds wasn't his game - Tammy was.

He offered his arm to Tammy to lead her to a friendlier place.

The dark woman stepped into his way.

Do not hurt her! She is under my protection! She declared in his head

'I won't hurt her, at least not much. I will take what I need! She'll survive.', he thought at her. Florian popped up in his mind, the book-killer, drinker of Faerie blood, crazy Florian. The slender woman would have been exactly his style, well a bit starved but...,well, modern times. Nicos wondered were his old friend was spooking around right now.

Tammy stood there, ignorant of what was going on between the two human-looking creatures, but feeling the tension. She interpreted it wrong.

"I better look after my stupid boyfriend." She got free of Nicos' arm and went back to her fallen knight.

Nicos watched her leaving, sighed and looked up into the Eshu's face.

"May I invite you to a cup of tea, sometimes?" he began, "No, no don't worry I do not want anything you aren't willing to give... And hey, we could trade Stories."

She continued to stare at him blankly. He looked over his shoulder resigned.

" I think I'd better go. The night isn't young." He turned to go. Ymaj laid her hand on his shoulder. Smiling, she put a piece of paper into his hand.

"My name is Lizzie Dugan. Call me."

Lost in thoughts he didn't feel Mikes eyes burning holes into his back when he went back to the house.

Back in the room were he had left his clothes, he slipped his T-shirt and the black jeans on. The renaissance costume went back into the chest carefully folded. When he got into his old leather coat with the tattered inside and the pockets filled with dirt he felt like himself again, or at least as his 20th century Brujah cover. The little paper went into the jeans. Out in the hall he stopped to memorize the chaotic scenery. Lady Marguerita showed up.

" Oh, do you have to leave us so early? How sad.."

Nicos fell into his old role as if he had done nothing else in the last 500 years.

"Milady, I am terrible sorry and greatly saddened, but I have other business to attend. I enjoyed you little celebration very much. I ..." He looked up. Uh oh, Mike had entered the stage again. He had three, no four thugs with him, and they were wearing steel swords this time. He said goodbye and turned as if to flee.

'Too many people, too many people', he cursed. 'Damn it. I don't want the prince on my ass. I like this town.'

He tried to lead them into one of the less populated areas to get rid of them as undramatic as possible. He went for the entrance. From the corner of his eyes he could see Ymaj, following their trail.

Mike and his boys followed him eagerly. They felt like bloodhounds moving in for the kill. Their merry chase came to a sudden halt in front of the building. A little crowd was gathering behind them. Nicos stood just outside the lit area.

"Hello, hello. There he is, hiding in the darkness."

'How right you are.' Nicos thought angrily 'How bloody damned right you are. But maybe the time has come to end this fucking hiding game.' He stayed silent.

"You didn't think you could get away like this, Latin lover? He does not look particularly strong without the armor. I think he looks like a faggot. So, you thought you could steal my girl from me? But she's preferring a real man."

The vampire maintained a facade of coolness and superiority, but on the inside, the stolen blood was red hot with anger. This utterly stupid mortal would be going to pay for his insults. Fuck the Masquerade.

"I think she preferred a specimen of the not so seldomly found Homo Stupidus Extraordinaire." Nicos said in a very friendly tone.

Mike looked confused. He thought that he might have just been insulted, but wasn't sure. He heard someone giggle silently. He spun around but could not spot the offender. That was enough. No more Mister Nice Guy.

"This time you won't play any tricks with me." He signaled his gang to attack. They moved to attack their victim from different sides at the same time. The "victim" set his right foot one step backwards. He looked directly at Mike. He did not have to look to know where the other ones were. They moved in a pattern that told him that they had fought as a gang before. They knew what they were doing. At least they would have known what they were doing if their prey had been human.

This time he was going to use his powers. He stopped listening to Mikes insults.

The first one sneaked up from behind. Nicos spun around, jumped and kicked him square into the chest. The thug flew of into some bushes and stayed prone. The creature turned around grinning satisfied, and felt the sword piercing his side. He felt the blade slicing through his liver and he felt PAIN. He wanted to howl, wanted to rip this little fucker's throat out, wanted to bathe in his intestines. He felt shards of his human disguise falling off, laying open the pure beast. He wanted to frenzy. Rip him apart.

'NO' he screamed in his mind 'he's not WORTH it.' He collected the self-control of 567 years and grabbed the blade.

"HOLD!... HOLD!... I said HOLD!" The Fighting marshal came running towards them. As did Ymaj. Her eyes went wide as she saw the blade not only entering the vampire but also exiting him on the backside. "Oh shit!"

Mikes face showed nothing but horror. His thoughts were running wild.

'SHIT! Oh my God. I didn't wanted to... oh my god. I have ... No please, don't let him... oh god...'

"You missed, you little bastard." Nicos eyes were burning red. He held the blade between his fingers as Mike drew it back, thus wiping it clean of the blood. The sword fell to the ground with a clanking noise.

'Oh god' he thought, 'have mercy.'

This was the moment the other two choose to attack. They had not realized what was going on. Nicos ducked under their attack, spun around, and knocked the "Viking" off his feet. The sword went flying, vanishing in the darkness. The other thug tried to kick the crouched vampire. Nicos didn't even try to dodge the blow, which he answered with a kick into his opponent's testicles. The guy folded himself neatly in the middle, moaning. Not a very nice move, Nicos had to admit, but effective, and he had given up fighting fair a long time ago. He came up face to face with the "Viking", who swung his fist towards Nicos' face. Nicos answered the attack in the same manner, but he corrected the blow aiming at the Vikings throat and broke his jaw instead. While he did this he was looking directly at Mike.

Geoffrey the last of Mikes men standing stared at the scenery with fear written all over his face.

'I knew it,' he thought, 'this guy is a ninja or a triad assassin. knew it. Oh, my god.' He turned to flee.

Mike felt utterly alone. He was still shaking. He hadn't gotten over the feeling of having killed somebody yet.

"Uh, I'm sorry. We were just joking, playing around. No harm done. I hope you are not angry." He held his hand out. "Come on let's be friends. You are no mean fighter." he managed a feeble smile.

Nicos took Mikes outstretched hand with his own bloody one and shook it. He saw the disgust on Mikes face and the slow understanding. Nicos looked down.

"Oh, I must have cut myself on the blade. I hope there's no blood on your clothes." A stupid grin appeared on Mikes face. "Oh, it's ok."

The smell of the blood was to much. He needed some to heal himself.

"I better take a look at your friend..."

"Yes, do that." Mike looked helpless, he felt sick.

When Nicos went to his first attacker who was laying in the dark bushes, he thought a little disgusted, that if you can't stand the fucking heat you better stay out of the fucking kitchen; the wound hurt like hell. He kneeled down as if to take a look at the unmoving man. He slapped him hard into his face, he started to wake up.

"Oh, boy!" he murmured. Nicos moved on top of him pinning the boys arms to the ground with his knees. The he grabbed the prone man's throat and pressed him down. With the other hand he held the mouth and the nose shut tight.

"What did you think you were doing?" he asked the mortal in a very quiet tone of voice. "EH?" He pressed a little harder. The mortal fought for air, struggled to get loose, but the vampires grip was without mercy. The struggle became wilder as the panic arouse. Nicos took away his hand before his victims will broke. It was well done now. He knocked it unconscious before he bend down to feed.

He drained almost half its blood, it might not survive the night. Nicos didn't care. It was only kine, cattle. But the special one would die this night and it would take him the whole night. He stood up let himself be seen, told them not to worry about this one and walked in mortal fashion into the night to wait.

He had to wait quite a while. But eventually Mike left the party. A shadow followed him. He let himself be seen just on the edge of the visual periphery. Gleaming red eyes were waiting behind some corner. Nicos played with Mike. Mike heard something making noises which gave him the creeps, wet, ripping, slimy noises. And then there was a shadow of something big and horrible and definitely not human. Somewhere a wolf howled and a dozen or more voices answered. Wolves! Mike wanted to cry out full of fear, he didn't dare because what ever was near him, he did not want to get its attention. He decided to stay in wellpopulated and more important well lit areas.

Nicos smelled the moment Mike was about to snap. He stepped out of the shadow, his coat was open, the blood on the white shirt was very clearly visible. His eyes caught the light of a streetlamp and reflected it. Mike was not able to move anymore, he wanted to run but his feet weren't obeying. People were moving all about them, ignoring the two men. Mike called out for help, but they seemed to look deliberately away. While Nicos moved towards him slowly he started changing, He grew three rows of sharp teeth, a long snakelike tongue slithering in and out of his mouth, tentacles ripped through the fabric of the shirt. The overall impression was a bit Cuthuluid. Nicos longed for a mirror. He would have loved to see this. Mike screamed, screamed out his soul, but nobody seemed to hear him.

"Help me!" he cried out desperately.

Nicos stood directly in front of Mike, showing lots of teeth. He grew long talons. He touched Mikes chin almost lovingly with one claw and moved it slowly down his throat, from his chest to his belly slicing open the shirt cutting deep into the skin, leaving a bloody trail. He stopped right above the jeans.

"There are monsters out in the night. And do you know the worst? You can't tell anybody, 'cause they would lock you up. No, I wont kill you at least not tonight." The long, long tongue darted out liking of the blood sealing the wound, leaving no trace behind.

"But I will leave you something to remember me." He took Mikes hand broke it and rearranged the bones a little bit.

"I'd say that I fell down the stairs. But I'm very sorry You won't ever play the violin again." He said and vanished, thus releasing Mike, who broke down and cried.

No, Mike didn't tell anybody.

When Nicos killed him three weeks later, it was a mercy killing.

But... the blood... oh, the blood it was divine...