mara, thank you I had no clue lol and I'm really glad you like my portrayal of the Toreadors, somehow I manage to make the most loving, feely clan out to be assholes lol.

kev, now that would be telling, you will just have to read and find out!

To everyone else, wow yesterday seems to have been popular for this fanfic, I got quite a lot of people favouring it, I'm so grateful! I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this fanfic!


The four nights passed torturously slow for myself and my minds. On the first night I had ventured to Venus', daring to hope for a public snack. There I had been greeted with revulsion and mockery and the false pity of the beat princess who tentatively suggested that shots would help. I had left after offering my insulters some hallucinations and had crept to the hospital to find solace with Pisha.

The flesh eater had been dismissive of my state, calling it a tangle with Tzimisce; she knew their handiwork right away, referring to it as crude. She was not disgusted with me but not welcoming either, I hindered her feeding; putting off her would be victims by dressing up in a bed sheet with poked out eyeholes and howling at them. Goths had giggled, called it a poor prank and hastened to scarier things, a filmmaker had yelled cut, called me an amateur and put off filming for another night.

Unwanted I had returned to my lonely bed in the apartments that drew a line at the sky. La Croix had gifted me with an apartment there, a reward for my loyalty. Nightly now I entertained myself by chatting to the tropical fish in the towering tank by the door and listening to the radio but when I heard a familiar crypt keeper's voice I couldn't help a sniffle. He called himself Greg, a power plant worker and I wondered if my loss had made him create personas to make up for it. I turned off the radio in despair and headed out. I went to the Empire Arms, an old haunt with familiar Kine; yes I could satiate my thirst here. The clerk regarded me scornfully and on his lips I sensed rejection.

"Do you want to slip out back?" I purred. "A private rendezvous of you and I," I suggested, throwing all the seduction that I could into my voice. "I see our shadows intertwining, you and I making music against the wall."

"Er..." He looked at me hesitantly and I willed him to want me, to desire me above all others, to be attracted to me. I could still will this, yes a moment of pretence, a false caress, better than none.

"You're handsome in your suit," I murmured, "and such soft hair, I want to touch it." My words were blunt and feeble, I lacked a Toreador's smooth tongue, but I had a Kindred's voice of persuasion and that was enough.

"Out back?" he muttered. "Yes, alright, but I can't be long, there's no one to mind the desk."

I grinned at him and saw him shudder with revulsion. "Behind in the staff quarters, let's you and I be one." He turned and shuffled off, slowly in a trance. I hurried round and down the doors to the corridor that led to the locked staff door. I picked the lock with ease and entered to greet the dazed clerk. My gaze hardened when he looked pointedly at my eye with disgust. I would not have his caresses then but his apologetic devotion, most definitely. "Lick my eye," I commanded, "lick it clean and kiss away the pain."

He shuddered but staggered forward, unable to disobey. So weak minded some Kine were, so easy to control. His tongue edged out and he licked at the pus and blood. We both shook then, his tongue was damp and uncomforting, he could not hold me like Isaac or Romero. He licked and kissed at my orb until it was dry for a brief few seconds, then he turned from me suddenly and vomited onto the floor. Even with all my gifts it seemed I could not keep malleable minded Kine from being revolted by me. "Vomit then," I scorned, "vomit bugs!"

I turned and exited with a burning hatred, charging down the corridors and into the bathroom. I cornered a lonely woman exiting a stall and bit her hard. I made it hurt, I made her scream into my palm and I made her bleed. If I had to hurt then so did everyone else, let them burn like me, let them scream and sob as I did nightly now. I left her sobbing, confused and without memory to explain the wound, I left her with a gap in her neck so wide she would inevitably die.

I retreated early to my bed, lying upon it hours before dawn and flickering through the t.v channels aimlessly. Stories of the Southland Slasher just made me ache more, so I closed my eyes and opened myself to the voices. Anything for a distraction.

When the fourth night came I was relieved and happy to hobble back to the Ventrue Tower. Chunk greeted me hesitantly and when I headed to the lifts I heard him mumbling in confusion about doughnuts. I vowed that if he flinched when he looked at me next he would have visions of fanged doughnuts for the rest of his life. I wondered if vampire doughnuts would prefer drinking blood or jam then as I ascended in the lift.

My handsome blonde prince was pacing about the room nervously with his hands together; he paused once to look at stoic faced Beckett and query, "are you sure?" Beckett nodded and Sebastian resumed his pacing. Was this what he did to lose the blood calories? Could the dead even put on weight? If we gorged on blood did we simply piss and vomit it out?

"Where to then?" I queried chirpily as I grinned at Beckett. "And who's got the boxed body, Kine or Kindred?"

"Both," Beckett answered calmly. "I had to wonder who would be rich enough to sneak it out and equally would have Kindred to help them during the daylight hours but Kine amongst them who could hold their tongues."

"Sabbat?" I guessed.

He shook his head. "If only it were so simple, no they had the key and the relic, both stolen and now, having pieced together some leads, I know who they stole them from."

"Oh who? Who?" I squealed as I clapped my hands together. "Leprechauns? They're sneaky devils! Or hobgoblins, they like stealing."

"No," Beckett answered dryly as he gave me a condescending red eyed stare, "more difficult foes, the Giovanni."

"Ah the crime boss leader! We shall have to get our Pokémon ready!"

"The Giovanni," Sebastian commented sharply, "a new group of Kindred, a faction formed after their leader Augustus Giovanni thought to diablerize his own clan's sire. He was a Cappadocian but when he diablerized their founder Cappadocius he destroyed the clan and founded his own, the Giovanni."

"They have taken keeping in the family to beyond the grave," Beckett commented dryly, "rich, mainly Italian and with an unhealthy interest in necromancy; they are not of the Sabbat, Anarchs or Camarilla and have a faction in L.A."

"They're a law onto themselves," Sebastian growled out hatefully, "an irritation and if there were more of them in L.A they would be a problem but as it is their numbers are few here." Still enough for dancing with the dead a voice informed me, and just too many for the jester prince to risk annoying.

"They also have a fondness for diablerie," Beckett commented calmly, "which might be a motive for their raiding of the tomb, in which case we will probably find it destroyed." He frowned slightly. "Of course they are greedy above all else so we might hope that they realised our coffin for what it is, a highly valuable piece of history, potentially Noddist history rather than the fanciful chamber for an ancient. Of course in either case I imagine they will be most reluctant to part with it."

"Then we shall steal it," I commented brightly, "under the ground, out the back and into a lorry."

"Subtle," Beckett replied sardonically with a small, fanged grin. "I only wish to study it, be that there or here is of little consequence to me. Maybe it will even prove to be a genuine Noddist artefact."

"But no resting place for an ancient?" I queried anxiously.

"I doubt it."

I looked to Sebastian who was scowling. "It needs brought here," he snapped, "before anyone else learns of it and jumps to conclusions. You must find it," he addressed me, "scout the area and then report, I will have Kindred nearby ready to take it, you will let them know how well guarded it is and then do what you can to help them take it. Do it as subtly as you can," he paused to look at my eye distastefully, "if that's even possible for you anymore. I do not want the Giovanni finding out about the theft until you are gone. Use Obfuscate, it's probably the only useful talent your clan has."

"Well if that's the plan," Beckett spoke up distastefully, "then I will just wait here for the artefact's return, better than getting in your way." He looked at me with a disapproving red gaze. "If you can bring it in one piece please do, after all this effort it would be such a shame to be deprived of the prize."

"Indeed," I retorted bitterly, "it would be a pity to see my mutations caused for nothing."

"Yes," Sebastian spoke up and I turned to see him studying my crippled leg with revulsion, "about that, this is an important mission, are you certain your er...ailments won't get in the way?"

I looked hard at him as his blue gaze flickered up to mine and realised what Kent had once, that I was dispensable. Sebastian could afford to lose me and if he did it would only prove that I was weak and not worth having but the coffin, the potential box of ancient blood, now there was a treat best kept out of power hungry fangs. I had no one else but the ambitious prince though, the rebels loathed me, my Baron had cast me out and banned the crypt keeper from having me and the Camarilla wanted my brother's head, I was alone save for the voices and they were not corporeal company.

"I am the master of mind tricks," I answered confidently, "illusions and deception, what I cannot triumph over physically I shall defeat mentally. I have not failed you yet prince and unlike others I returned to you from the Sabbat den."

He frowned a little and quipped, "others? Sometimes I wonder if you Malkavians truly know how accurate your insight is or if it is a coincidence when things you say prove true. Yes there were others, all weak and foolish but I did not send them unwittingly to the firing line, they were warned but they chose to wander a dangerous path. Was it foolishness or simply a loyalty so deep that even sense and my own caution could not prevent them from their decision to wander into the Sabbat's territory?"

"Perhaps they expected the cavalry," I suggested tentatively. Still hadn't named names, Kent couldn't get mad. Of course the poet deserved treachery, he deserved my gifting his head to his highness on a silver platter but though I burned with hatred for the Toreador and his friends some side of me still felt love and would not allow me revenge, at least not in so violent and final a manner.

"Of course not," Sebastian retorted swiftly, "if I wanted to march an army on the Sabbat well...come now it would cause a bloodbath that would risk our exposure to the Kine and see too many Kindred needlessly slaughtered. No, this is the burden of leading, you must know when to strike but you must also know when to simply survive. The Sabbat must be dealt with more astutely, believe me, when they cause trouble it does not go ignored."

"But the individuals who seek to dish out justice?"

"If they do at my request," Sebastian answered stubbornly as a moment of rage flared up in his pale gaze, "then they then do so with the necessary equipment, support and a plan. I do not send Kindred on suicide missions." The monarch hisses with the serpent's tongue. A lie, well of course, dear La Croix wouldn't be much of a ruler if he didn't lie.

I nodded, weary of the conversation. "So when must I go to the Giovanni?" I queried. Find the box, coffin or whatever container of the dead it might be, it was a clear goal, one big enough to keep me distracted from my woes. After though...well I would see for myself what was in the mystery box first and then decide to whom the spoils would go if anyone. Maybe the Giovanni deserved what they had gone to pains to take, why should I be the one to judge otherwise?

"Tomorrow evening," Sebastian decided curtly.

I nodded agreeably, the sooner the better. A heavy patter struck the tall panes without warning, a rainstorm to turn Downtown's gloomy streets even more miserable, and me without an umbrella to shield my warped, dead flesh.

"I must go," Beckett decided as he glanced out the tall windows that blurred the modern, crowded structure of Downtown, turning the many lights of the brick towers to streaks of gold.

"Farwell Beckett," Sebastian spoke to him courteously, "and thank you for your help, naturally you will be the first to look at this coffin when it is brought here, without worry of disturbance."

"Indeed." I saw Beckett brighten a little with that thought. He looked at me and said, "good luck then young one, and do take care."

"I shall wrap the box up nice and neat for you," I assured, "with a shiny bow."

Beckett gave no reply; he just nodded again before heading towards the doors, past the shadow of the silent Sheriff. The Gangrel did not flinch and the tree like vampire did not acknowledge the passing Kindred. I wondered what secret Beckett had that made it so easy, perhaps he had the head of Medusa in his satchel and perhaps the Sheriff was aware of this and reluctant to become anymore of a statue than he was. I thought he might be better suited that way.

I looked at the glittering drops spattering and streaking against the window and felt a prickle of sorrow, my Toreadors would certainly have appreciated the beauty. It was getting heavier and louder and I was reluctant to leave and submit myself to it. Here was bright and cosy, well as cosy as a large office lacking comfortable couches and a fireplace could be.

I could feel Sebastian's curious and impatient gaze upon me and met it. I had done him many services now and suffered much for him, the least he could do was humour me as Isaac once had. Isaac was a Toreador though, humouring could be in their nature but Sebastian was a military styled Ventrue, their nature was no nonsense ruling, and they had no time for frivolous fancies. Still, I deserved something. "Can I sit here?" I queried hopefully, looking to the soft, Persian rug on the floor, better it than the stiff backed chairs, even Goldilocks would struggle to find comfort on one of them.

"If you must," Sebastian answered me dismissively before he walked back to his desk. He seated himself down in grand chair and immediately busied himself with notes spread out before him and his laptop screen. Ventrue were born and killed to be busy, even in death the clock was still ticking for them.

I seated myself on the rug, crossing my legs and pretending not to hear Sebastian's grunt of displeasure as the rug creased ever so slightly beneath me. I then turned my attention to the pixies dancing about the gold and crystal chandelier high above, they at least were amusing. After an hour my leg became to itch and the burning in my eye passed from irritation to agony, the thirst was growing again as was another longing. I could not face lying through the morning alone, yet who could I lie with? Such effort it would take to seduce a Kine and could I ensure that they would sleep through the day? Would it be worth it? I doubted any Kine could match Romero's rough charm or Phil's reluctantly tender grasp, and I knew there was no Kindred who could soothe the madness as Isaac had, he made my voices calmed and lulled away the headaches, he made my unrealised fears continue to be unrealised and he made me feel loved. No one could match that but perhaps I could pretend.

I rubbed at my eye, blurring it with pus, and though of the residents of Downtown, mortal and immortal, moral and amoral, an unconcerned flesh eater, a wizard king, a motley group of rebels who would sooner stake than cuddle me, a man of many goods, a goddess, a woman who traded with her body, an aspiring film maker, a leader of bears and gangs, the numerous riders of the white horse, the fat doughtnut lover, the stoic sheriff, the princely one and others. None could or would compare to Isaac, Romero or even Phil or Chase but maybe that was what I needed, change.

"Are you going soon?" Sebastian queried bluntly. Realising his rudeness might chase away his devoted minion or perhaps feeling genuinely guilt over it, he added, "or do you need somewhere to stay?"

A tempting offer, though I could see it was one that promised loneliness forgotten in the private offices of the hard working Ventrue who worked so hard they had no time to retreat to their ostentatious abodes. I would be left to lie in someone who had made it home's coffin, their punishment for daring to seek some personal time instead of devoting themselves fully to Sebastian's matters. Oh he had it all worked out, even a kind gesture was usually a barbed chastisement for someone else.

"I will go," I said calmly as I stood up and rubbed my eye once more.

"You should clean that," he advised coolly, "and maybe get a hooded coat, with a scarf, and thick gloves, it's autumn, you won't stand out." He bit back the 'as much' but I heard it anyway.

"I could play Red Riding Hood in the rain," I retorted with forced mirth, "and Beckett can be my wolf when I return." I tried to twirl but my leg refused to comply, growing stiff and groaning instead. Not enough that my minds groaned, now my limbs were doing it too, my body was growing entirely too noisy. I instead made it a half turn and hastened to the door. "Goodnight my Prince," I called back cheerfully, "I must hurry before Helios comes."

"Goodnight," Sebastian muttered.

I grinned at the Sheriff and received an impassive scowl in retort. "Sleep tight and don't let the ghosts of slain teenagers bite," I advised before I hurried out the door. I hastened to the lift and pressed the button rapidly until the doors binged open at last. I stumbled in, hummed loudly against the music, determined to have the tune of my own minds be heard, hurried out past Chunk and rushed out into the rain. At last I could cry and no one would see, it was but raindrops on my worn cheeks. Just cold, slices of rainwater mixing with the pus, I walked slowly, no coat, no hat nor an umbrella to shield me; I was exposed to the wrath of Zeus. One attractive man came towards me, ready to offer help but then he spotted my eye and hurried on past me as if I were Obfuscated. Enraged, I followed him, pushed him down an alleyway and into a wall forcefully, tore open his throat and gorged until I was bored, then I left him to slump to the ground and die.

"You stole it."

I looked up at the voice, two Gangrels blocking the alleyway, two beasts barely disguised as humans with the mad glare in their glowing eyes that said they were Sabbat. I turned from them and found a Brujah tearing noisily at my victim finishing my job.

"You took the key," the Gangrel accused, "and gave it to that bastard Ventrue. Now we're going to make you pay."

"How much?" I queried. "And what currency? Dinars, Euros, pounds, dollars? I have some yen if you'd like."

"Bitch," the second Gangrel snarled. Then he came for me, they all did. I sent out my madness in all directions, Hysteria, Hallucinations and Berserk, I panicked and flung out all that I could. I tore my glove off and lashed out with my own claws as a wolf snapped at my heels and I watched and shrieked in horror as beetles burrowed into my arms. A fist punched the back of my skull, a foot struck deep in the back of my ruined knee and a bone snapped in my right arm.

My vision went red, I had used too many gifts at once, the Kine's blood was not enough to keep me going. Madness, hunger, thirst, defend, attack. Lash out, lash out! Tear the flesh, find the blood! Something howling in my hands, a head without a body, toss it away, useless! I ran, jumped, kicked and punched. I needed to feed! I needed the blood! Ah a Brujah, useless to bite, rip through the flesh and bones, there's a heart, plunge deep into it. I winced as my arm burned as my victim became ash.

Just one more Gangrel. I tried to leap for him but my leg foiled me again and I smacked my face off the pavement gracelessly, I heard him give a mocking, growled laugh as I pushed myself up. I was dizzy now and everything was horribly red. We collided, he showed me birds and I offered him spinning skulls vomiting blood. His claws sank deep into my stomach and my fangs worried through his neck. I could drink his carmine liquid, it was not the same, too cold, too sour, I did not want it. I flung him back, kicked him with my good leg and then finally, ended it all with my beautiful, almost forgotten sword. A clean cut through the heart and he was ash too.

I looked briefly at the sword as my vision returned to normal and then the sobs racked through me. A gift from Kent, we had shared a bed, built sandcastles and went on many missions, he was meant to be my friend, he was meant to be Rob. Yes, a voice snapped accusingly, that was what you always wanted, big brother Kent, always so dependent Sarah, soppy Sarah needs a brother, brother's gone. No he's just dead like us, and mad in a different way, happy, kind, loving Robert Grey is gone, he still cares but it hurts him to show it, he won't risk attachment again. Cling to selfish Kent then, he's the only one you can grasp at, what a pity, he's all about the cause, he's all about revenge, stupid Toreador can't commit to anything can he? Least of all you.

I sheathed my sword and feel to the ground, hugging myself as the pelting rain began to banish the blood. No more Kent, no more Romero, no more Isaac, no more Hollywood, no more home, no more sanctuary for Ariadne and no one to keep Sarah at bay. She was seeping back, sneaking into our heads with the madness, determined to shout louder than the other voices, to be heard over the insane on the web.


I debated over where the coffin would be, the Giovanni having it does follow the game more closely than I had intended but I also felt they deserved some development and I loved their segment in the game and really want to write about them. Also, when I read about them they really loved diablerizing, so it just made sense.