Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Vampire: The Masquerade- Bloodlines or of WWE… the first is White Wolf Inc.'s honor and the latter is because Vince is a greedy bastard
I want to get a few things out there so there will be no misunderstandings
Now to those who are wondering about the new disclaimer and this prologue… I had inspiration, don't worry it's not a crossover exactly. Because WoD is basically a darker dimensional reality of our world and that means WWE exists there too however let's just say some Superstars' gimmicks… aren't really gimmicks, plus it is a great opportunity to play around with the Masquerade cause apparently everyone thinks wrestling is fake … 83 You can see where I'm going with this right?
EDIT-2015: And no this was WAY before the Immortals android game... though it did get me out of my writers block Funk.
Don't worry this focuses on WoD, WWE part is both a Background story and sideline story and not really part of the main story so all those hardcore fans LAY OFF and take a chill pill (or better yet, some valium), cause there's a line between coolly opinionated and malicious trolling.
I've also been researching into the Mage stuff, both concepts of Awakening and Ascension appeal to my muse so you'll see a few things… however I might need to have a good beta on frustrating parts… Some things I've been trying to find out if it's possible but now I am saying screw it, it's both supernatural AND fanfiction so if all else fails I'll just pull, "I am the Storyteller" card. So I'm putting it in here anyway but if someone else sees something and would like to give CONSTRUCTIVE criticism then I'm all-ears.
Warning there are some dialogue and thoughts by some characters that some will considered offensive. That would be because that is part of the Character views, NOT THE AUTHOR'S, This is the World of Darkness- a crapshack world run by inhuman tyrants and politicians that would make Orwell shit bricks, its going to have some racist crap and whole bunch of other bigoted shit in it.
Finally yet importantly, the plotlines changing a little bit due to as said above recent inspiration so bear with me here. I promise it was worth it, now on with the show.
Prelude
Clare "Cheshire" Calaway
"When you look into the Abyss, the Abyss also looks into you."
-Friedrich Nietzsche
October 18, 2004
6:16pm
Venus Hollis Dare, The Owner of the Nightclub Confession stared at the woman in front of her and she mentally noted to kill Fat Larry, violently.
Clare Calaway was a Mercenary that called her self a Marauder. She was a tall and athletic woman in her early twenties, The mercenary woman's height was 6'3 and her skin was a very pale fawn- only a few shades of color, like beach sand. She was clad in black leather pants held by tight to her legs by many buckled straps. She wore matching steel-toed, thick boots with three inch heels and with buckled straps. A black tight-fitting custom leather corset-vest that covered and held her endowed breasts tight, but exposeing her lower midriff. Her upper were bare except for fingerless opera gloves which started at the elbows. that had rivet head bracer things on the wrists. The essentially striking things were the tribal tattoos that covered her body, black intricate marks marked her midriff and hips, her back and shoulders even on her breasts, it was most likely a full body design. She also wore a strange choker which from it hung a expertly wrought iron symbol, of a gothic T with its end like a dagger going through the middle of a X of the same style, the pendant rested on her chest.
She looked like she escaped from peculiarly gothic freak-show. There was no doubt that she was beautiful but it was beauty that was admired when looking at a Leopard at the zoo… except here there was no 5in thick, double-plane bulletproof glass between said feline carnivore and you.
But when you take a second look at the strange woman's features you couldn't blame Venus for making the comparison as you start to see the feral madness in the stranger's movements. The tattooed woman's hair was just as wild and messy, deep crimson hair of the darkest shade without hitting black. It cascaded down her back like a curtain woven from red wine or old blood, veiling strong but lissom shoulders. The front of her wine-colored hair was in a chaotic styled fringe that framed an aesthetically angular face. Lengthy, curved, icicle-like spikes framed her sides of her face and cheeks and went past her chin. The fringe was styled in the same way as some spikes went past the eyes, and a pert, roman nose. Fiery copper-hazel rims stared out like a captive wolf from behind rusty iron bars; those eyes were strange an unnerving, calmly yet eagerly at the self-proclaimed beat priestess. A ghost of a sly grin carried on dark thin cupid-bow lips… how the fuck did she get in?
The old oak doors of the front entrance was one of the things that drew Venus to the old church; it gave the place an old creepy feel that sent chills up and down spines when you look at them in different lighting, so Venus kept them as she converted and renovated gothic structure into Club Confession. But the bonus was the fact the doors were heavy croaking things that cannot be opened silently- you will always know if somebody had entered or left the Club and add in the scarlet stained-glass windows barred with steel And she had the key ring it was the only possible entrance in.
Yet here was the definition of Femme Fatale, this eerie woman sat on a barstool tapping a steady rhythm with black sharpened fingernails, grinning at her. One moment it was just her behind the bar counter getting a few cocktail ingredients prepared then turning around only to risk a heart attack- she was just there!
It was sunset; still early for business, and the Confession would be opening in an hour, so she was the only one with the keys to let the bloody employees and clubbers in; Venus became suddenly very aware of her quiet surroundings. The half-Englishwoman instinctively scoured the empty dance floor of the club, while her body instantly tensed and felt the hair raise on her arms and the back of her neck.
Venus was alarmed on how involuntary these actions were… but then it wasn't that surprising. This woman was fucking dangerous, just by the few facts that were coldly obvious. She shown herself, came into her range completely confident when she could've just watched and waited for the Club to go full swing before saying hi.
The woman was an expert assassin that wanted to show off her credentials while simultaneity warning her client just what devil she summoned. The fact that she had ability and opportunity to kill the buxom punker bartender several times over was not lost on Venus.
'WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS LARRY THINKING?! When I asked to hire help, I was thinking an Ex-Blackwater officer, some local thug or retired cop! NOT A BUGGER BLOODTHIRSTY LUNATIC SERIAL KILLER!' screeched the thoughts of the Confession's owner who struggled to kept the panic of her heart-shaped face. Gleaming amber eyes were shining with cruel amusement like a cat wondering if she should give the little canary mercy.
"You are the Love goddess, Daring Venus, yes? She whose temples are in peril? I'm sure Fatman gave you his recommendations of this Clare Calaway."
Venus blinked out of her fright as she processed the weird wording of that introduction, wondering if the woman was screwing with her or if she really did talk like that.
Her voice though was… enthralling. It had a natural huskiness that was smooth and cool like dark water seen on a moonlit night; like whatever made her scary gave her a voice to balance out, but the cryptic talk made the whole thing disorienting. The strange woman's grin became more expressive at her confusion and Venus could see this Clare's pearly whites that were sharper than normal with prominent canines. They weren't full out fangs but bloody hell; average humans do not have molars that noticeably looked that sharp.
"Yes, Venus is the name and this is my club, and according to our said fat-cat associate the answer to my… debts… this is in your line of work right?" The self-proclaimed beat priestess crossed her arms in front, her uncertainty, and apprehension unhidden. Though this didn't wipe the toothy grin off the madwoman's face. In fact it seemed to make it grow, baring those weirdly sharp teeth.
"Minerva and Mars have granted me their favor, Miss Venus. I am a Celebrant in The Art of War; be it on Death's dance floor, dodging bullets and blades, hunting in shadows for both buried truths and bloodstained secrets. I am a master of thieves and cutthroats, a dime from your piggy bank to the lives of your enemies and everything between for this Cheshire Cat can steal them ALL… The result? Intangible but eternal masterworks!"
Clare's quiet voice was the silky dry sounds of autumn leaves rustling in a cool breeze- calming but it still gave goose bumps. Those dusk eyes became a vibrant orange with enthusiasm; She truly cherished her line of work... and add that with the fact that she was "officially" the type of bounty hunter that had the controversy stigma, said controversy proven by her taking an illegal hit contract just told Venus to kill Larry for sending her a Psychopath.
In a completely sudden and untamed movement, Venus jumped as Clare slammed her biker-gloved hands on the counter and effortlessly pushed her self until her pale face was three inches from Venus's own. Her silver eyes wide and her heart a frantic drum as she stared into burning pools of magma. Venus found herself morbidly wondering if they would turn scarlet if the owner was provoked into a fury, like a horror movie
"Your seething fury, misery, hatred mixed with craving wishes, and dark desires are what makes the Clay. Your strong intent and dark resolve the carving tools," whispered Clare almost hissing her breath hot on Venus cheeks sending involuntary shivers. Clare gave another toothy smile and Venus had to resist the urge to cover her neck from the assassin's sharp teeth.
Clare lifted and swung her legs under her showing a sinister grace, actions that gave her tribal tatts the illusion of movement in the club's lighting. The leather-clad woman was now perched on the bar top in an animalistic crouch, peering down at Venus like she was a mouse and gave a tsking sound.
"It is I that will provide the blood to be your Glaze! I shall be the Kiln and my knives the Fire and what comes out will be your dream made TRUE, Little Goddess… so paint this Marauder a picture, let's see your design! And so we'll see if its worth this Cheshire Clare buying," said the maniac mercenary and for a moment, the freaking room temperature dropped about 10 degrees, just at the hard edge in her tone.
Venus Dare blinked, took a deep, centering breath and immediately steeled herself and got into her cocky beat-priestess character, because somehow her earlier behavior must have insulted the bloodthirsty thief because instinctively heard the threat beneath Clare's demand.
You called me here for my capability: do not fuck with me or waste my time
She didn't, this woman was beyond batshit crazy, hell she barely comprehended what was said, and what she understood was… unsettling.
"Well now Larry was right about you! To start this club I had to take out a significant loan from a king bastard name of Boris- and every time I haven't been able to make the monthly plus interest, that bastard takes what he considers is a suitable late fee." Venus's voice had become quiet steel near the end. Rage tarnished the silver of her eyes, striking away the inherit fear and Clare could see it, she visibly perked up like a wolf scenting a good hunt, matching tawny eyes becoming once again a brighter color with eagerness.
"Boris?"
"I've got a club to run after this so I'll be blunt. I refuse to… fuck, that fat, misogynistic, old man one more time to hold on to the club. I need someone to completely eliminate him, his thugs and liquidate anything of value… Larry said you'd be the perfect type for this, more accurately you'd do it dirt cheap just for the kicks but I'll make it worthwhile." The heartfelt venom in that statement showed that Venus meant it.
Clare tilted her head like a curious child; burgundy bangs casting shadows on half lidded eyes as she thought the deal over. Her eyes narrowed and that grin became a tad vicious once again.
"You paint a grand picture, lovely goddess, yet I sense details are missed in harsh brush strokes… what flag does your Vulcan fly?"
Venus had to dig up college memories to translate and was glad that she took Roman literature as an elective otherwise she would still be in a clueless daze. She was right; the bitch was definitely doing that on bloody purpose.
"Boris is high in the ranks of the Russian Mob, does that change anything?" explained Venus with a slightly annoyed tone.
She did not expect the gothic lunatic to roar with genuine laughter, a sheer sound of dark jubilation was as sudden and shocking as shattering glass and it gave the club owner chills.
"Now THAT is more like it, a revolution against the Czar! Such a daring little goddess, heehahahahaaa," giggled out Clare, sunset eyes flashing once again into a burning fire, almost red this time. She was grinning as madly as the ethereal cat she was named for, her glee outmatching a child's at Christmas.
Venus just stared at this woman… this lunatic had no true morals, no acknowledgement for or fear of law, edict, or boundary because she was the type that saw the entire world as a playground, rules as challenges of a game. Clare Calaway had no true inhibition or restraint… and that was more frightening than Venus believed it would be.
She had to center herself as Clare's laughter subsided and began talking.
"So here's the plan, on the 28 which is about ten days from now from now his cronies will wait for me with this month's payment in the parking lot at the Empire Hotel, but instead of seeing me, they'll meet you with the sad news that I've got no money which then they'll contact Boris who will send me his bloody room key which I will give you so you can go discuss what color coffin he'd like, sound good?"
"I'll take the painting and I shall take your clay and give its blood and fire, Daring Lovely Goddess but tell Clare the price tag?" asked newly hired assassin who used her acrobatic flexibility to switch from crouch behind on the bar to stand facing Venus with the bar between them. A wild twitchiness spoke of her enthusiasm.
Venus opened a drawer and pulled out a thick envelope.
"The $1200 I was supposed to pay Boris, directions and the offer of silent partnership." Said Venus smoothly. The original payment was supposed to be the full 24 grand but Venus knew if she got the Cheshire Clare as her partner then the other gangs rivaling Boris wouldn't dare move in once that Russkie was six feet under. Clare Calaway was a terrifying person and loose canon, no doubt about it but Venus remembered the advice her mother once told her as a child going off to her first day of school.
Find the scariest wanker and become their best friend, that way only the idiots without self-preservation will bother you.
Cheshire Clare tilted her head at her client, blinking for once in slight surprise. She didn't say anything and Venus took that as a cue to elaborate.
"The Club Business isn't as easy as it looks lots of scavengers, locals that nip at the coattails of those like Boris especially in this part of the city and as my last bouncer quit after he was sent to the hospital after an incident with the soon-to-be-late Boris, I need someone to be my dragon as they say while I run the club, you can keep it by dealing with the riff-raff and dealers, make sure certain unsavory elements don't try to muscle in with "protection" offers and the like." Explained half-English woman watching as Clare worked over the idea over.
"This one travels around sometimes state wise, little goddess you wish for a Marauder like I to convert to your Temple's defense?" asked Clare in a monotone. The lady barkeep knew what she was getting at.
"That's where the silent part of this partnership comes in, just come around once in while to collect your cut, make sure territorial markers keep out trouble and if something comes up I'll have your number on speed dial to get in touch. Besides you'll have a place to crash when your in town free of charge- there used to be a homeless shelter as well a morgue under here when this was still a church that is now used to store the liquor stock, and drinks on the house… so do we have an accord, partner?"
Clare just sat there staring at Venus for a few minutes before a ghost of a grin came back on her pale face. She reached into a back pocket and pulled out a calling card. It was black with her street name in with red gothic lettering along with a floating fanged Cheshire smile as the capital C. under it was a phone number. Venus was about to say something when suddenly-
"You've done it no-ow, you've gone and made a big mistake
and I can't allo-ow, you to think you can just walk away"
-A bit of ironic rock music sung out jarringly into the air of the silent nightclub. Hearing the Lyrics as Venus watched the woman in front of her blink and then bear witness to the most fearsome woman she'd ever met… cringe, before turning her head toward the sound with an uneasy grin, the half-Britt barkeep wondered faintly if someone downstairs was in sudden need of a heater.
The rivethead goth woman made a time out sign to Venus before she pulled out her Motorola cell from a back pocket in her heavy leather pants and flipped it open cutting off the chorus of "You're Gonna Pay".
"Hello Elder Brother, It's been an awful awhile since I've heard from you, been busy since Judgment Day haven't you? How was the City of Fog or have you entered the New World once more?" answered Clare eerily cheery and somewhat fast as but then cringed again as a deep growling voice rumbled from the cell phone.
"Do not fret brother dear for this Clare has been good little sister, in fact I just planned a to go on a grizzly hunt in the City of Angels, and I have many safe houses and-…... Really, Elder brother you have so many of those precious and shiny hogs, you can afford to give me Wilbur…"
Static roaring and the sound of grit teeth, the little phone had surprising sound quality.
"Yes Mark I named him Wilbur besides you owe ME after missing OUR holiday… and-…. do you take this Clare for a fool, Deadman?! Of course the Celatum is secure, it is our fucking heritage, Brother! In fact I learned more from its pages then EITHER of you, besides I need it…"
Venus just stared as Clare began to pace seemingly forgetting Venus was there, and as for Venus… she just couldn't ignore this strange and obviously sibling squabble, but one thing for sure, who ever was at the other end of the line, someone who could cow such an untamed woman like Clare was someone Venus Hollis Dare never wanted to meet… made ten times worse since apparently bloodlust and madness runs in the family. One thing the punker woman notice was that Clare only spoke normally when very, VERY angry, or stressed.
"…Well… now brother don't be too judging but… I finally found her…"
Half the light bulbs in the club exploded, and the air became freezing cold, Venus went very, very still.
Silence, then quiet words calm but steel whispered off the phone.
"NO, NO NO NOOOOO!" shouted Clare with her own anger. "All you want to do is drag me back home… I knew you figured out something from the Celatum! I KNEW FUCKING IT, You may be the Phenom BUT I AM FAMILY AND I HAVE THE SAME RIGHTS TO IT, HELL IT LIKES ME MORE THEN YOU…… YES I HAVE CONSIDERED WHY THAT IS, BROTHER WHY THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I WENT ON THIS ROAD TRIP?!"
Clare was heaving breaths like a beast that was in the middle of a fight sharp teeth clenched and bared, maroon spikes of hair swaying with her movement, even more now she looked like a snarling wolf or big cat only to be rivaled by the sound of glacial ice coming from the cell phone.
"Nice try, Elder Brother, But I already called Vinnie Mac a day ago. You won't be in the Golden State until next year and good luck Getting Big Brother Kane to help, the two of you haven't been getting along since he buried you alive… Good bye Brother Mark, I'll be she to tell Mad Mala your regards." Clare said snidely before shutting the phone then throwing the device hard enough against one of the old stonewalls with enough force to shatter it.
After taking a few deep breaths Clare center her self and faced Venus, who didn't if it was the lighting of the stained glass windows or if the lunatic's eye really were scarlet one thing for sure was they never turned back to copper-hazel that night. The fact she began to speak English meant that Venus stood corrected, The Cheshire Cat did have self-control.
"Sorry, sorry Miss Venus, it's just My overprotective brother is stingy with items and just now realized what was missing… family matters is all" waving a gloved hand in the like what just happened was nothing to be freaked out about.
The Confession proprietress wisely decided she did not want to know…
"Daring Little Goddess, I agree to our accord now tell me more your designs over a much needed drink… ironically I happen to enjoy a classic Bloody Mary" declared Clare with a vicious toothy grin.
Venus Dare wondered how she was going use to fuck up Fat Larry for sending her calamity incarnate into her Club as she reached for the Vodka and tomato juice.
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A/n: basically for a description of Clare... She looks like DarkRayne except with long blood red hair in the same messy style and the Dog collar choker replaced with the described Undertaker pendent. Type this in the google search bar: bloodrayne-66704798
click the first result and you'll get the basic idea on how Clare Calaway looks like... hope I'd described it accurately
and for a more detailed view of the TATTOOS... DarkRayne-135395586