Not sure how much longer I can continue this pace: I feel like I'm churning it out right now. It's annoying cos I've written more exciting bits for further down the road; but I have to help the story get there first.

Please: review, critique, one liner - all appreciated.


The ship was lit up like a Christmas tree; a glowing blob of colour and light against the grey dark of water and sky. Worried about being spotted, I let the engine fade into silence. The boat bobbed gently on the calm water, soothing me. I sat there unwilling to begin things, trying to pick out the ship's details. At the side end nearest to me a long chain snaked down into the water: the ship's anchor. That seemed to be my best bet for gaining access, but I wanted to make sure I had a boat to come back to. I diverted my attention to the inside of my motorboat. It was too small to carry any kind of anchor, but it had a rope to tie it to a dock.

I took a deep breath as the plan formed in my mind. Moving quickly to avoid losing my nerve, I slid over the side of the boat with the rope in my hand. The water was cold but not unpleasant. As a human I would've been crazy to try this, but vampire strength allowed me to slowly push the boat in front of me while I swam. It was bulky and awkward, and I had to stop a lot to see if I was still heading in the right direction, but it didn't take me long to pull aside the ship's anchor.

I tied the rope through a link in the chain as best I could. The chain was massive, each link as big as my head. It made it hard to grip, and my claws scrabbled on the metal before I managed to gain a hold. The water seemed to suck at me as I slowly lifted my body out of the water and hooked my legs over the chain. Seawater streamed off me, spraying in an arc of glittering droplets when I flipped myself over so that I hugged the top of the chain. Looking up, the ship loomed massive before me. Through the haze of spotlights I could see silhouetted figures patrolling on guard.

I let my face rest against the cold rough metal of the chain link. This was going to really suck. I had a flash image of me running with a huge box over my head and laughed in spite of myself. The whole situation was so absurd it was either laugh or cry, and well, I couldn't waste the blood on tears. Unbidden, the thought of the Tremere who started me on all this popped into my head. I'd never know him, know if he was less of a jerk than he seemed. If he'd lived would he have protected me from situations like this? Or would I simply have been his slave, more completely than I was LaCroix's.

Don't think about it, you have to focus on right now, I told myself. Bringing my feet up to the surface of the chain, I started to shuffle slowly up it, in a half crouch, half crawl. Ship and chain bobbed and swayed in the waves. It was hard to balance, and whenever I passed a window, I was terrified someone would look out of it and see me. As I got higher, the breeze started to whip my hair about. My clothes were sodden and squelchy: anyone who tells you adventuring is all fun and glamour can bite me.

Once on deck I stood there allowing water to stream off me into a big puddle, while I figured out what direction to go in. I really had no idea where to go: it was a huge ship, and even from here I could see the dark wall of stacked cargo containers in front of me. A crate with a sarcophagus might be large to carry, but it was like a needle in a haystack in this environment.

The wind blew through my wet clothes, and I shivered; more because I thought I should than because I was really cold. Time to get going. Picking a direction at random, I noticed there was some kind of navigation room on the deck ahead of me. It didn't look like the main bridge, but I could see papers and maps strewn across its desk, so I snuck over carefully to see if I could get any useful information. Clinging close to the deep shadows by the wall, I walked in a low crouch, listening for signs of guards. Auspex, you dumbass, whispered my inner voice. My blood hummed in my ears as I scanned the area for life auras. Only one or two close by, but many in the middle distance behind the stacked containers. A hint of purple caught my attention. Another vampire? But no, when I looked closer it was a much subtler aura, almost like a scent of someone recently departed.

Trying not to get distracted by it, I crept into the room. I ruffled softly through the papers until I found something of interest. A manifest, placed in a laminated folder. I scanned it quickly, noting that the sarcophagus was registered to a Dr. Johanson and that it was bound for the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History. I grabbed the folder and wedged it under the webbing of my ninja back straps. It made me feel a little like a hunchback, but I wanted to have my hands free. I crept back out of the room again and turned my attention to that wisp of purple surrounded by the red glows of human beings.

Hoping to get a better vantage point, I climbed up the side of the first cargo container until I crouched on top of it. The wind whipped my hair again and I wished I'd had time to chop it before starting on this mission. Glancing behind me I was shocked to see that my wet shoes had left a trail of glistening footprints right to the bottom of the container. Cursing I took off my trainers and wiped my feet on the metal side. I didn't want to lose my shoes, but carrying them would be awkward and slow me down. Regretfully I pushed them to the edge of the roof and then inched forward on my stomach to see what was going on.

Peeking over the edge I could see groups of men in official uniforms. They looked more like police than security guards. Their attitudes betrayed them as bored and inattentive, in spite of the coffee and donuts many were eating. At the other end of the clearing in the forest of cargo containers was a large crate, longer than it was tall. The wood of the cover was splintered and looked like it had been forced open. Looking with auspex I detected a faint purple glow from inside. I sighed: this was going to be impossible but I had to try anyway.

I decided the best way to approach was by skirting the edge of the open space, using the containers as a climbing frame. Rolling over in a prone position I manoeuvred myself towards the side of the next level of cargo containers. I slipped around the back, hoping that by hugging the back face of the container walls I could avoid being silhouetted against the sky. Drinking blood may have become almost commonplace to me, but I felt very inhuman clinging to the vertical face like some kind of lizard or insect. Not having shoes helped a lot there; my bare toes found many crannies and bumps which allowed me to climb sideways like a crab.

The only problem was that I couldn't tell if someone was looking in my direction since my cheek was pressed against the metal and I could only see over the curve of my shoulder. I kept stopping to check around me, but I was high above eye level, and the guards stationed outside of the main circle didn't see me moving cautiously in the shadows. Under the flare of auspex I saw that I was close to my goal and started a downward diagonal.

Once at ground level I crouched at the back corner of the container between me and the sarcophagus. There was a guard on either side of the sarcophagus and a folding table just in front of the right. A coffee pot and a box of donuts stood on it. Once again I found myself biting my nails, trying to formulate a plan that didn't end in lots of dead people. Blood magic got too much attention (and killed people); I would have to try my limited bag of Domination tricks (i.e. trance).

I sidled around the side of the cargo container, crouching as low as I could. What I really needed was a big loud long distraction. I crouched there waffling: could I sound the horn maybe and dash back here while they left? Would they leave? I had a feeling it was a pretty weak distraction. I had two people to deal with beside the crate itself. Facing them on the other side of the open space were three groups of two to three men, plus random patrollers.

Now I was right behind the right guard. He fidgeted with his gun and yawned. Knowing that the longer I waited to act, the more chance there was of someone seeing me, I tranced him and then scuttled quickly back round the left. The left guard hadn't noticed anything strange. I stood up behind him slowly, willing him not to turn around. Using the hilt of my new sword, I smacked him on the back of the head, and held him up in front of me as I pulled him back round the corner and into a pool of shadow.

I considered stealing his shirt and hat to make more of a disguise, but I was too short for it not to be obvious. However, searching him produced a police report on the crew's disappearance, so I added that to my laminated folder and wedged it back under the webbing. Hurriedly I crept back to the side of the crate. This close, I could see it had definitely been broken into; the wood bulged oddly and the lid wouldn't close properly anymore. I could see a glimmer of gold and paint from inside. The whole thing looked bloody heavy, and I was doubtful that even my vampire strength would be enough.

"Hey! You!"

The words I'd been dreading all night rang out, echoing off the metal of the cargo containers. Panicking, I grabbed the edge of the crate and yanked. It moved but my arms were too short to yank it very far. I heard a babble of voices and running feet around me. Desperately I reached under the bottom of the crate and lifted it up. I could lift it, which was amazing, but it was so huge and awkward that I couldn't move fast at all. With my face squeezed against the wood, I heard the sound of guns being readied to shoot.

"Step away from the crate!" someone yelled. In the background I heard another mutter, "How the fuck is that even possible?!"

In that moment I didn't stop to think about the consequences: I whirled in the direction of the voices, made a supreme effort of strength, and hurled the crate away from me. I had a brief glimpse of shocked faces, but then flight instinct took over. I turned away and ran as fast as I could towards the deck railing. Behind me was a clamour of noise: yells, screams, shots, and the sound of splintering wood. The wind off the sea greeted me as I climbed over the railing and stood poised for a second. The water looked black as pitch below me, and very far away. My hair whipped in the wind and a bullet whined through it. Unable to delay any longer, I jumped clumsily, trying to aim as far away from the ship as possible.

Time seemed to slow as I fell. I turned my face upwards to see if I was pursued, but my hair formed a rippling curtain between me and the world. I felt the rushing air as it let me pass. All too soon I plunged legs first into ice-cold darkness. I expected the pain of my legs breaking on impact, but it only stung a little. Hurray for being a monster! I allowed myself to sink, marvelling at how suddenly unafraid I was. I felt removed from the upper world in this deep shadow: no one could follow me here. I pushed up until I was in the circle of water lit by the boat. Long shafts from the floodlights wavered dreamily around me, while the side of the ship rose like a cliff in front of me. I could hear the hum of the ship's engines. When I turned on auxpex I saw first the flashing tiny lifeglows of the fish; looking up, the small frantic glows of the men on board looked eerily similar.

I floated there under the water for what seemed like ages. Trying not to think about the fact that I had definitely failed this mission, I began to paddle slowly towards the back of the ship. Hopefully no one had noticed my little motorboat roped to the anchor. No, it was still there, bobbing up and down gently. I untied the rope, briefly wondering as I did so if I should shimmy up the chain and try again. But now I'd really stirred up the hornets' nest, my element of surprise was gone.

Starting to feel gloominess overtake me, I pushed my boat quietly away from the ship. Once I was outside of the light, I hauled myself back into the boat clumsily – it took a couple of tries, and I was afraid of tipping the damn thing over. My heart quailed within me when I thought of what LaCroix would say, until I remembered I had managed to gather some intelligence reports. Maybe that would stop him from executing me. Glumly I turned the boat towards the distant lights of Santa Monica and started the engine.

Mercurio wasn't there when I got back to the beach, so I just left the boat floating there untied. I felt a bit like something the cat dragged in as I struggled up the wet sand, water streaming from my sodden clothes. Sand squidged deep around my bare toes, reminding me of my lost shoes. The thin-bloods all stared at me, but none of them dared to approach. I sighed; if this was what my life was going to be about, maybe I should invest in a Kevlar wetsuit.

Instead I jogged squishily to the Asylum, ignoring the strange looks from passers-by. My favourite daughters of Janus were at home, so I begged some clothes off them. The results were not ideal: a kilt mini-skirt several times too big and an equally oversized blazer but no shirt and no shoes. I suspected Jeannette & Theresa of having a little fun with me, but I wasn't in a position to reject anything. I wrung my old clothes out as best I could and balled them into a tight clump. After I changed, I took out the two reports I'd managed to snag, and read them closely.