Author's Note: First off, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry this chapter is a bit disjointed, unorganized and a complete piece of fluff. I expected to have more to write, but I failed miserably. There's really nothing in this chapter that matters to the greater story as a whole, but there are things that happen that matters to Eliza's life later IF I ever decide to write any continuance to this story.
Yes, I said if.
See, I don't have anything to really write about for a second story after I finish this playthrough. I know I have a lot going on, but I didn't intend to just keep throwing chapter after chapter out until I got tired of it. Stories have a beginning, and an end. Our end is coming soon.
To those that have never played the game, Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines, the game ends with the Player Character deciding how they want to handle the kindred of the city, then doing it. They then live with their choices, and the game ends. My intention is to end this story with the game, maybe an epilogue to wrap up one or two loose ends and showcase what is going to happen later.
While I have nothing to write about for tonight's chapter(and been unable to focus on it), the next night is the Giovanni mansion mission, then there's only five more things before the game ends. So it's going to go fast. I'll be able to concentrate better, get these cranked out faster, which means soon I'll have to either figure out the next story, which I'm trying to do now, or move on to other stories, which I have votes for.
Yes, I have other story ideas. One is Blue Planet, a Star Trek based idea of Blue Lagoon where it's a human boy and a Vulcan girl who are marooned on a deserted planet on an island with very little to help them. The other is a Sid Meier's Pirates/Pirates of the Caribbean story where I do a sort of playthrough of Sid Meier's Pirates using the cast of Disney, Dreamworks, Pixar and other films to populate the Caribbean with characters. It's pretty epic, check it out here s/12370971/20/Upcoming-Story-Ideas or Blue Planet here s/12370971/19/Upcoming-Story-Ideas
Feel free to go through my story ideas listed, because those votes(reviews) will tell me what to write next.
On to our story, such as it is.
Chapter 50 – A Night of Learning
October 7, 2004 = Thursday
~Eliza Flores~
Pulling into Michele's driveway was a bit conspicuous in such a common and cheap vehicle, given the fancy nature of her mansion and its grounds. There was a car, a Mercedes parked in front of the door, so I parked in behind it. I left my messenger bag in the front seat, knowing I was safe here and walked up to the door.
I expected Remy to answer the door. Instead, a dirty blond headed man in a light blue suit answered it, looking suave with his hair gelled back. He was slightly broad at the shoulder, and I could almost make out his muscles as the material of his suit bunched as he moved. He had the aura of security, but damn he was good looking.
"Hello," he said in a southern accent, smiling at me. "Can I help you?"
"I need to see Michele?" I asked him, and he stepped back to allow me in.
"Your name, miss?"
"Eliza Flores," I told him.
"Wait here and I'll see if she'll see you now," he said, walking swiftly into the private area where I had seen her last time.
I kept watch, soon noticing Remy in a turquoise colored dress with a shiny beaded top that sparkled in the light. She was carrying a tray with a pitcher of blood and three crystal goblets so steady she appeared to be ghosting across the floor. Even the blood never moved as she moved down the hall, not even when she stopped and smiled at seeing me.
"Mademouiselle Flores," she said, curtsying for me. "Has Messieurs Todd or Copper introduced you to my lady?"
"A man with dirty blonde hair has went to ask her," I told her, not knowing his name.
"Monsieur Copper," she said, nodding her head. "He should return shortly. He is very, spirited," she said, searching for the last word. It seemed as if she wanted to say something else, but she just curtseyed again before going down the hall.
Not a minute later, Copper came hurrying back down the hall before composing himself and addressing me. "She'll see you now."
"Thank you," I told the man. "Are you one of Michele's ghouls?"
"That I am," he said brightly. "Me and Todd's been with her for the better part of fifty years."
"Todd your friend?" I asked him as we walked along.
"We grew up together in Georgia," he told me. "Met Remy, then Michele, in New York City. Our first time in a place that crowded."
"Country boys, huh?" I joked with him.
"Deep country," he said, tugging at his jacket as we walked into Michele's private lair.
Michele rose with another gentleman from the couch as Copper and I entered the room. The first person I noticed was Michele, whom I gathered dressed specifically to stand out as she wore a bodice either made of diamonds, or crystal beads, making her sparkle from collar to the hem of her formfitting black silk pencil skirt. The other man in the room was a dark haired individual in a tailored gray suit, who reached out and took my hand.
"I am hoping you are Miss Flores," he said in a faint British acccent.
"I am," I said, as he kissed my hand.
"Then I am delighted," he said, giving me a devilish smile that raised all my red flags.
"This is my childe, Felix Barker," Michele said, introducing the man and confirming my feelings.
"Felix, please," he said, his smile still plastered across his face. "I understand you wish to lease the building I was planning on making into a studio?"
"I am, yes," I said, as he and Michele sat back on the couch. I sat across from them in a high backed chair, settling myself in for what could be difficult negotiations with Felix.
"Good," he said, putting his right ankle over his left knee to cross his legs. "I have a place in Santa Monica, they are finishing the building itself now, that I wish to part with, temporarily if not permanently."
"I am willing to buy if you wish to part with it," I told him, noticing his slightly aggressive look for a moment before he forced himself to relax. With a mental dive, I looked at his aura, seeing a wave of red pulsating throughout it. Not knowing what it meant, I didn't bring it up.
"I am," he said, rather flatly. "It is the last of a failed experiment of mine."
"A form of art?" I asked and he nodded.
"The Fey," he said, rubbing his hands on his pants leg. "A group of young girls I had groomed into a singing sensation to capitalize on the recent boy and girl bands that are prominent in the music industry at the moment. The girls I had groomed not only had an amazing sound, but were each capable of being models, such were their physical beauty."
"What happened?"
"We were recording an album when we were attacked by a Sabbat pack," he told me, and I winced. "They ripped my girls apart while I fought them off, losing all but one in the end. The poor girl might have died as well as the bastards ripped her throat out."
"You ghouled her?" I said, getting the last piece of Sugar's puzzle.
"I did, but her voice never returned," he told me. "She ran away that day, and I have yet to see her since. By now, her blood will have run out and she will be normal again."
"She's in Santa Monica," I told him, getting a raised eyebrow from him. "She works for me as an exotic dancer, though right now I am between clubs."
"I see," he said, looking at his leg. When he raised his head, the red pulsing through him seemed to ebb some. "Has she ever regained her voice?"
"No," I told him, and he relaxed into the couch some. "She's fully mute."
"Then she is truly ruined," he breathed in an almost unheard whisper. "And I am left with nothing."
"Then you have no need to keep the last vestiges of your failed project?" Michele said, prompting Felix to sit straighter.
"No, I don't," he agreed. "I am, uh, grateful that you kept Dianne O'Reilly from breaking masquerade when she was supposed to be under my care."
"Is that her name," I said, nodding as I took it in. "We just call her Sugar. It's her stage name at the club."
"Hmm," he said, thinking on something as he opened the binder on the coffee table between us. "I can sign the club over to you for about three hundred grand," he told me, showing me blue prints and layouts of the club that he had.
It was a large building, designed to be more of a warehouse from what I could tell, but the finalized blue prints he had showed me where he was going to put recording studios and the professional equipment required to run his company from. The pictures he provided showed that the shell was mostly finished, only a few things were left of the outside, mostly finishing pieces for the trim. The parking lot was paved, but not painted with parking lines, and the interior was just getting the insulation installed.
Not a bad start, and it would allow me to change the plans without wasting any money. I looked closer at the final plans, finding the building was about two hundred feet by a hundred fifty, plenty of room for my club. I did have some benefits in that I had way more room, both for customer parking and parking the girls on the side with their own private entrance, with room to get a delivery truck in to bring in beer.
"How much would you want for it?" I asked him.
"Enough to recoup my losses," he said, and I nodded. "Five hundred thousand."
"That's very doable, Felix," I told him. "I can write you a check now, or I can pay you in cash later this evening."
"A check will suffice," he told me, and I stood.
"Let me go get one from my car," I told him and he nodded. Copper escorted me to my car, where I retrieved the check. I was going to have to visit Walsh and get my checkbook replaced, as I was now using my last check. I borrowed a pen from Copper, wrote it out, and then returned to Felix and Michele and handed it to him.
"I left it blank on whom to pay it to," I told him, as he folded it and put it in his suit pocket. He then pulled out a pen, and a folded sheet of paper from the leather binder, folding it out to show it was the deed in question. He signed it over, then slid it back in the binder and handed it to me.
"And you have one property," he said as I tucked the binder under an arm. "If you ladies will excuse me, the night is young."
He stood, kissing both of our hands before leaving me alone with Michele. I couldn't help but feel he was out to ruin another woman's life, and hated him even as I did business with him. With him gone, I sat across from Michele again and took in the elder kindred's peaceful presence.
"I was hoping he would sell his property to you," she said, after he had gone. "Like so many, he is more ephemeral. I find him more and more unlikeable with each night. Especially with this latest travesty of his."
"You don't approve of his girl band?" I asked her and she shook her head, a wave of green pulsing through her aura.
"I do, actually," she told me. "They were going to release under my label. They had a unique sound that I found refreshing."
"Speaking of refreshing," I said, getting a bashful smile from Michele who leaned her head over to reveal her neck as if in invite, "Where do you get your constant supply of blood and could I get some shipped to the motel?"
"I have a contact who supplies me," she told me. "I thought human blood didn't satisfy you anymore?"
"It doesn't," I responded, "But I need it for the kindred I have living with me."
"Ah, a herd of kindred to feed from," she said, nodding her head slightly. "They are comfortable with this arrangement?"
"As can be expected," I told her. "They lack the means to survive on their own, so they're going to live with me. They'll need blood, and having it readily available helps us both."
"I can set up a delivery along with a menu of sorts for future purchases.," she informed me with a smile. "Payment can be arranged with them directly, as can the quality of the blood."
"Great," I told her, nodding my head, then gave her the address to the motel. "Have them send it there, I'll tell the manager to expect it and reserve it for me."
"Very well," she said, nodding to Copper who still stood by the entryway. He was writing it all down, and I had the feeling he was going to be doing the legwork on my request.
"Ya'll have it before sunset," he told me.
"Thank you," I told him as he put his notebook away.
"Ah, it's nothing," he said, giving me a smile as he straightened his suit jacket. "What Michele had me doing this past week..."
"Is not any of Miss Flores's concern," Michele said sternly, cutting her ghoul off.
"My apologies, ma'am," he said, bowing his head respectfully.
I looked between the two, wondering what was up with that, then decided the best way was to separate the pair. "Well, if that will be all, the night beckons," I told them as I stood. I was banking on Michele being too much of an old world lady to show her guest the door, counting on her subordinate to do it instead.
"Another night, then," she said smiling as I turned and left. Copper was right behind me, but Michele stayed seated on the couch.
I left quietly, with Copper following me right to the door. When we stopped, I looked around the foyer, seeing we were alone. Peering over my glasses, I hit Copper with dominate, who immediately went slack as he fell under my control.
"What were you doing this past week?" I asked him.
"Assassinating targets," he told me. "Toreadors Lela Lockwood and Heather Jones along with Brujah members Dresler, Ricky, and George. We were unable to get the Ventrue Mueller."
"Why would she want them removed?" I asked him.
"They were the rallying points the prince was using against the Anarchs," he told me, his eyes still glazed over.
"Alright," I said, then looked into his eyes and hoped I was doing this right as I projected my will into the ghoul. "You will not remember this conversation, just that you bid me goodnight and I left."
"Yes ma'am," he said, turning away as I stepped out the door.
I got in my car, finding the Mercedes gone, and left Michele's mansion behind. Behind the wheel, I sighed, not really having any direction to go now. Walsh wasn't really expecting me, and Yukie was likely to sleep till almost morning. I couldn't go crash with Meredith and Eloise, as they were likely studying the clan secrets of thaumaturgy and I wasn't invited.
The secrets, I mused, thinking of Celeste's red binder in my bag. It was filled with secrets, I just needed to peruse them. That made me think of Eloise's advice that I needed to start my own Grimoire, so she could chart what I could and couldn't do. I headed to a nearby supermarket and picked up a gray binder, some loose leaf paper and some markers, pens and coloring pencils to write and draw with, as well as dividers, labels, and a pouch to keep everything sorted for my 'teacher.'
After that, I decided to head down by the beach in Santa Monica. On the way, I couldn't help but think about Michele assassinating the prince's power base, which was the only reason I could come up with. If that were true, Michele played serious in her politics.
The more I thought about it, the more I came to hate vampire politics. While I could understand the rules about killing, and respect them, other rules made less sense. Of those, the right to sire. While it did stop kindred like Felix Barker from siring willy nilly, what of us who wished to sire a close friend? I could have sired Sammy when I first met her as a kindred, maybe even saving her life against the Sabbat as she would have been with me in my safe room.
I sighed, knowing full well some of the Camarilla's ideas were practical, such as the masquerade. We couldn't advertise our existence to the kine, as they'd likely hunt us down and eliminate us. But the death penalty for everything smacked of overreach I was used to as an American. That part I hated. In that regard, I guess I stood with the Anarchs against the prince, but I couldn't help but feel that if the person in charge backed off with the overreach, maybe things would work out.
Michele wanted to be that person, but her quiet assassination had me worried. The prince was many things, but he moved rather openly. Of course, as prince he could just rig a masquerade breach and behead the guy, or girl, publicly and people wouldn't bat an eye. Maybe sleeping in a locked coffin would be worth it.
Arriving at the Santa Monica Pier parking lot, I parked near the staircase to the beach. I took a moment to put my binder together, then pulled my messenger bag out with me as I got out of the car. I walked down the stairs, coming out on the beach only to find it empty. Apparently no thin blooded vamps were hanging out around here anymore.
Going down by the water, far enough from the water that I wouldn't get wet but see and hear the waves, I sat down in the sand and pulled Celeste's Grimoire out. For maybe the first time, I opened it up and actually looked at it, finding Celeste liked to organize as much as I did. The first page was probably her first lesson, and it covered familiars.
She detailed several things about them, mostly that they were seen as an early replacement for their avatars. The familiars they had now were now were mainly messengers, moving about the chantry carrying messages for their masters. It was encouraged among the Tremere to have at least one familiar, most having two with the other kept near them at all times. At the bottom of the page, Celeste made mention of the spell used to alter her familiar, named Ceri, into her more Barbie doll-like visage so she could tolerate its presence.
I looked at the spell to make a familiar again, finding it was fairly simple, but the hard part was that it said I had to pool blood into my hand to draw with. Looking at my hand, I tried to do it, but failed. Sighing, I concentrated on my hand, and mentally tried to force my blood to respond. With what seemed like a migraine level effort, blood seeped out of my palm, forming a small ball in my palm. Cupping it with my hand, I used my right to flatten out the sand in front of me, then began to dab some of the blood onto my fingertip and draw the pentegram and glyphs onto the sand. It formed an almost gel-like ribbon, lifting and responding to my finger as it moved over the sand.
When I was done, I followed the last step, holding the remainder of the blood from my palm over the pentagram. There was no way of telling what I was going to get, either a cat or a gargoyle, so saying a silent prayer that this worked, I dropped the blood into the pentagram. It grabbed the blood in the pentegram, then began to morph into a large ball. I was wondering if I should grab my flamethrower to kill the demonic spawn when a gargoyle a foot tall, a miniature twin of the one I had fought in Hollywood, formed on the sand.
It looked up at me, it's eyes dark orbs, and flexed its muscles before settling down.
"Master?" it asked with a gravelly voice.
"Yes, I am your master," I told it.
"Okay," it said, sitting down like I was.
It didn't seem to want to do anything, so I let it sit while I looked at the spell to transform it into something more pleasing to the eye. It was a simple spell, but it required me to recoat my palm with my blood again. I closed my eyes, forcing the blood out into my palm, then holding it outwards, and silently praying it worked, pressed it to my gargoyle. It coated my gargoyle, seeming to make it shift and distort.
When my blood faded away, my gargoyle was still a foot tall, but now had pale creamy skin and fiery red hair. Its body was long and lean with well define abs and muscles, and judging by the well-endowed rack the gargoyle had, clearly a female though I couldn't check for genitalia as she was still sitting. She looked at her body, clearly feeling out her muscles, and running her fingers through her bright red hair.
She still didn't seem inclined to say anything, so I opened my binder and began writing and detailing what had taken place. Once I had that done, I picked up Celeste's Grimoire and began to peruse through it. She had tabs for various paths of power, most of which seemed to branch from old magic terms.
There was a tab in the back labeled ghouls, so I flipped to it. The first page was just on how to make one, and the second was on how to make something called a revenant. Looking at the page, I realized it wasn't something I could create by giving my blood to a kine, it was something I had to create within my ghoul. A revenant was a ghoul made not by kindred, but by specifically breeding ghouls. According to Celeste's records, they were more powerful than ghouls, but just as loyal.
The difficulty with them was in the amount of time taken to make one. Since they were bred, they required time to grow and age, which according to the notes I was reading, started to slow when the subject hit puberty. After several years of increased production of vampiric blood, their aging slowed even more, but never fully arrested. Since their bodies could produce their own vitae, based on the original vitae they were born with, they remained as loyal to their kindred domitor as a ghoul would.
I thought it over, looking at the notes Celeste had added and where she had detailed several families. Apparently the Tremere had a family of revenants called Ducheski, who maintained the libraries and laboratories for the clan in Europe. Since they were loyal, the Tremere didn't have to worry about losing their secrets. They also provided a source of security that was masquerade friendly.
It was definitely an idea, one I might pursue with Yukie, though I didn't know where I might get a guy to impregnate her. Brian was gone, having committed suicide, and Duke had been killed in a Sabbat raid. It was, I decided, unnecessary for me to have a male ghoul get Yukie pregnant, I could just dominate a guy into doing it if it were necessary.
I shook my head, wondering if it were the best thing to create a family of servants. The morals and ethics involved in such an undertaking were staggering, but it wasn't as if I were ripping them from a life, they'd be starting a life I gave them, literally from diapers.
"Something wrong?" my familiar said as I set the Grimoires aside.
"Just thinking of creating a revenant family from my ghoul, even though I promised I wouldn't create any more ghouls," I told her, deciding that since my gargoyle so resembled a female now I'd call it such.
"But are they the same thing?" she asked me.
"Not from what I can tell," I told the her. "A ghoul is a human I rip from their life by feeding them my blood and forcing them to serve me. A revenant is a child born to said ghoul who is already under my control from birth. They will live to serve me, always."
"So why are you undecided?" she asked. "If you made a promise not to rip someone away from their life, why not create new life instead?"
"I guess I'm just worried about breaking my promise," I told her. "I don't like doing that."
"So, what do you want to do now?" she asked as I put the Grimoires back in my bag.
I sighed, not really having any idea what I wanted to do. "Got any ideas?" I asked her, and she looked down at her naked body.
"Shopping?" she said sheepishly before her little heart shaped face fell into a grimace. "I'm sitting naked in sand. It's like sandpaper."
"How do you know about sandpaper?" I asked her.
"I think I know what you know," she said, face scrunched up. "Like putting on makeup, reading, math. I just don't have any memories of yours."
"Gotta love magic, right?" I said, as I looked down to where she was dusting the sand off of her.
"Can it remove sand from places I didn't know I had?" she groused, reaching down her backside.
"I don't know those spells," I told her, shrugging my shoulders for emphasis.
"So, can I get some clothes?" she asked, standing up tall. If she were human sized, she'd be a hottie so I could understand her wanting to cover up.
"Sure," I told her, giving her a wan smile as I tried to figure out where to get her clothes. She was doll sized, so maybe if I bought a couple of dolls she could wear their clothes. "Doll clothes?"
"Maybe," she said, climbing up on on my leg. She was so light, I barely even noticed her presence. "Could I go with you inside?"
"Maybe," I said, thinking it over. I suddenly wished I had a coat. "I can't let you be seen."
"Why?" she said, sounding so much like a three year old I almost bust out laughing. "All I have to do is not move and people think I'm a doll. I'm the right size."
"You have a point," I told her. "But it's going to look funny if I just carry a naked Barbie into the store that's anatomically correct."
"Oh," she said, looking down at her body and pushing on her boobs. They moved like a real pair, and she grimaced. "It's like the middle of the night. Think anyone will notice?"
"Maybe," I said, then had a thought. "I'll take you inside in my pocket. When we get to the toy section, I can pull you out we can make a choice together."
"That'll work," she said.
"Let's head out and find a supermarket," I told her, cradling her as I stood. "If nothing else, I'll buy you a handkerchief and you can wear it like a toga until we can get something better."
"Alright," she said, as I walked us back to the car. I set the bag in the passenger seat while my gargoyle moved to sit on the center console. She didn't block the rear-view, but I didn't know if were because of her link to me and my clan curse or because she wasn't tall enough to block it. Briefly angling the mirror down, I found she lacked a reflection as well.
I drove us around, looking for a supermarket, not finding one that was open. According to the clock on my radio, the time was past three in the morning. Pretty much everything was closed at this hour, a fact I shared with my gargoyle.
"That sucks," she groused.
"I don't suppose you know of the sledgehammer incident?" I asked her,
"No," she said.
"I needed a sledgehammer once, but since the stores were closed broke in and stole one," I told her. "Now, we can't be seen by cameras, but I don't want them finding us by other means. So we go in, get what we came for, and get out fast."
"Ooh," she said, as I drove by the front entrance to a toy store.
A brief look through the front entrance gave me a myriad of shadows to jump to, and I parked the Civic around the corner in the alley, hopefully out of sight of any roving cops. My gargoyle climbed up onto my shoulder, holding onto my hair as I got out of the car, and I jumped us into the shadows inside the store.
"That was quick," she said from my shoulder as I looked around.
"Instant teleportation," I told her, heading into the doll section.
"Can I do that?" she asked, but I just shrugged.
"I don't know what you can and can't do," I told her, seeing stack upon stack of dolls. Problem was, they were all seven inches tall. "When we get back to the motel, I'll take you up to Eloise and ask her."
"Okay, she said, as we got to a section filled with foot tall dolls. The dolls represented various cultures and ethnic groups, but they matched her body type and apparent age.
"What do you think?" I told her as we studied the various dolls.
"Ooh, that one," she said, pointing me to a doll marked 'Marisa.' It was of a young woman in a pink bustier and beige cargo pants and carried a snakeskin leather purse with a golden chain around her neck. I picked it up, and nodded my head.
"Good choice," I told her as I tucked it under my arm. "Any others?"
"How about that one?" she said, pointing me down to a clothing set. It was of an old English riding habit, complete with boots, jacket, hat and riding crop, and I smiled though she couldn't see it as I picked it up.
"No doll to dispose of either," I told her.
"You mean life size mannequin?" she smarted back and I chuckled. "I wonder if I could pose them?"
"Next thing I'll be getting you a doll house to live in, furniture, animals..."
"Could we?" she said, making me laugh again.
"One more," I told her, stepping down the aisle.
"That one looks nice," she said, pointing out a princess styled Barbie in a purple gown. It certainly looked exquisite.
I picked up the boxed doll, tucking it with the other two, when the top row caught my eye. The marketing department had certainly kept the naughtily dressed dolls from prying innocent eyes, but us adults, were subject to the insanity. Why any adult would get these lingerie clad dolls for their kid was anyone's guess, unless they were meant for adults. But why would adults play with dolls? What are they teaching kids today?
Taking one down, I examined the lace babydoll top it was wearing and began nodding. Holding it up to my gargoyle, I could hear her chuckle. "Bit provocative, isn't it?" she said, taking it in.
"Maybe one day you'll meet a cute boy gargoyle..." I started to say but her laughter was immediate and deep.
"You mean...you think...I might actually...screw!" she said, pausing only briefly to blurt out her words.
"Stranger things have happened," I told her. "Nothing else, you really want to dress fancy all the time and not have something nice to relax in?"
"Well, no," she said, agreeing with me as she sobered up. "How about that one?"
I picked up the doll off the shelf, finding it was a redhaired doll wearing a white satin slip trimmed in black lace with sheer black stockings and heels. It worked for the relaxed around the house theme, so I tucked it under my arm, reaching my limit. If I tried to pick up one more, I was going to drop something.
"Ready to get back to the car?" I asked and she gave a whoop. Taking a step, I put us at my car's door, opened it up, and set the dolls on the dash before sliding in. "Which one first?"
"The riding habit one," she said, and I used the car's key to open the package for her. She immediately pulled the pants on, then the shirt and vest combo. She was a bit more buxom then the doll it was intentioned for, but fit otherwise. She then pulled out a boot, and gave it a test squeeze.
"It's rubber!" she said excitedly, jamming her foot down in the boot. "Wow, and it fits! I thought it'd be like plastic or something. I can totally wear these."
I watched as she got dressed, even putting on the jacket and hat. "I so need a horse."
"All things in time," I said, wondering if there were any way of making that work. I set the other doll boxes in the passenger seat, then started the car and headed home.
"So, do I get a name?" she asked, sitting back on the center console.
"Hadn't thought that far ahead," I told her as we drove on. "Any ideas on your own name?"
"How about Dominique," she said, shifting around to sit under the stereo where I could see her.
"That can work," I told her, making her smile. "It's going to be a bit of a drive to the motel, you can put some music on if you like."
"Thanks!" she said, getting up and turning on the stereo. She used the buttons to turn it to a country station, which was something I only listened to when depressed. Country music was the music of pain. Listen to some of it and tell me it isn't true.
Soon, Dominique was singing along with the radio, songs I was sure I had never heard before as we traveled down the freeway. She did at least have a good singing voice, making it tolerable, but I was still glad when we pulled into the motel and I was able to stop the music. Dominique might be a cowgirl, but I certainly didn't walk that way. Lord help me if she got hold of a proper cowgirl outfit.
"Let's go meet Eloise, okay?" I asked her, picking her up and cradling her in my arms. I grabbed my bag, sliding the strap around my neck and sliding out.
I walked up the stairs, Dominique sitting straight and still on my arm as we passed several girls coming in from a night of partying at Confessions. They were drunk, which I could understand since they were paid to party, though now they were hanging out on balcony as they wound down from their highs.
I knocked on the door, after getting many strange looks for the doll tucked in my arm, and Eloise opened it to allow me inside. Meredith sat at the floor, writing in her binder on the coffee table as a large black cat looked on. It looked up at us before it came closer, carefully walking around the binder with its tail high in the air.
"Funny cat," Dominique said, giggling at something I couldn't hear.
"Gargoyle, huh," Eloise said as I set Dominique on the table next to the black cat. Keenan jumped up to join them, and I had the feeling they were about to have an important conversation.
"Yeah," I said, watching our familiars. "Got her some clothes off a doll. Seems to like country music too."
"Keenan is into death metal," she said, giving me a smile. "Something about the process makes them kind of reverse mirrors of us. Running theory is it's the parts of our psyche we miss less that becomes the familiar. That which you hate, tastes you don't like, become their reality."
"Does that mean that she'll like strawberries?" I said, thinking of the fruit and shuddering. I'd only had it once but I could still remember the trip to the emergency room when my tongue swelled up. Turned out I was allergic.
"Maybe," she said as Dominique swung up on Keenan's back and grabbed hold of his fur. She gave a whoop as Keenan led the group into the other room, probably for some kind of heart to heart talk. "But they don't eat or drink. Keenan does like to stretch out when he's not busy, but I always figured that was the cat in him."
"You don't like stretching out?" I asked her and she chuckled.
"I'm never not busy enough to stretch out," she told me. "Even running what I did in the chantry took up a lot of time. Like now, I've gotta train Meredith to take care of herself before she steps into something she can't handle. I'm covered for the next month."
"Don't mind me," Meredith groused as she wrote in her binder. She had a leather bound book she was transcribing from, and it seemed to be intense. "There was a reason I dropped out of school, but I can't remember it for all the writing."
"Get used to it," Eloise told her. "We train to handle Gehenna. We know it's imminent, but we have no idea what it entails."
"But locking Lasombra in his prison helped," I said, nodding in agreement.
"Temporary fix," she said, crossing her arms. "He'll escape again. Next time, we might not be able to put him back in."
"Any thoughts of going back and diablerizing him?"
"Personally," she said, hanging her head. "I'd rather kill him than drink his blood. I don't care if it makes me next to God. Just reading some of the reports that Tremere himself went through will ensure I never commit diablerie."
"Let's just say I agree with you," I told her. "I heard once another antediluvian rose, named Zapathasura."
"Ravnos antediluvian," she said, nodding absently. "Word was it took an entire order of mages and the Kue-Jin to bring him down. Fight lasted over two days. They dropped bombs on everyone, killing everyone but him. He was weak enough by then to be killed by the mages."
"So, one out of thirteen?"
"One," she agreed. "One of the reports I read said that millions of people died and several thousand Kue-Jin went missing. The truth is, no one knows, and that was just one. The trickster clan. What happens when Saulot truly goes apeshit? Or the Ventrue's? You want to fear someone? Fear Ennoia, the great hunter of clan Gangrel. Any one of those could potentially kill millions on their own. Maybe even billions. We train to take down each and every clan, so if nothing else, we're last clan standing."
"What about us Methuselahs?" I asked her.
"If you have no kindred to feed from, you'll frenzy, fall into torpor and repeat the cycle till you die," she told me, her sad look sending cold tendrils of fear through me. "Give it a century, maybe two, and you'll be exposed to the sun where you'll fry."
"So much for immortality," I muttered. The conversation was way too heavy, so I decided to lighten it up. "So, what all can gargoyles like mine do?"
"Just the basics," she told me. "Though they're made of our blood, they can't use it for anything. Periodically, once a year or so, they get lethargic. A dose of our blood returns them to normal, sort of a pick-me-up."
"That's good to know," I told her as Keenan streaked back in, Dominique riding him like a horse. Keenan seemed to love it, circling around before streaking up and across the couch. I knew Dominique loved it; she was whooping like a cowgirl on a wild ride, which if you were riding a horse that could scale cliffs in a single bound, it certainly had to be.
"Ready to head home?" I told her, my words making Keenan stop his circling.
"Do I have to?" she whined as Keenan brought her close.
"It's getting late," I told her, feeling more like her mom than her master. "You three can play more another day."
"Alright," she said, sliding off Keenan's back.
"You mind if I make an observation," Meredith said, raising her head from her writing. "What's the advantage of a gargoyle over a cat? I don't have to clothe a cat, or really get him anything. Plus, he can protect me during the day by attacking an intruder without breaking the masquerade. What advantage does a gargoyle have?"
"They can talk to people other than their master directly," I told her.
"Plus, they can actually handle and move objects, so they can organize a desk or return books to the library," she said. "They can, to a point, act as real secretaries including typing, answering phones, and arrange deliveries. Also, since they aren't asleep during the day and don't have light restrictions, they can move freely around a house and monitor for security threats, including more modern security systems with keypads."
"I guess that's helpful," Meredith conceded. "Hadn't thought about a security system, yet."
"Which we'll have in spades when I get a permanent place built," I told them. "Also, starting tomorrow night, I'll be providing blood packs to you two, so you won't have to go hunting."
"Great," Eloise stated. "The way you rip blood out of my neck makes me almost frenzy."
"It'll be safer this way," I told her, agreeing with her, then decided to ask her about revenants. "I came across something about ghouls in Celeste's Grimoire, called a revenant. Mind filling me in?"
"It was discovered long ago that if you allowed female ghouls to breed, their children retained some of the blood of their kindred master," she told me. "They're half and half, half human, half kindred. Before our magic could ensure their creation, they were made by ghouling a woman and getting her pregnant. The resulting child was born with a taste for blood, and when ghouled and bred again with a similar child made a revenant."
"They sound, sick," I said.
"Mentally, yes," she told me. "To keep the number of initial ghouls down, incest was rampant. Honestly it makes the royal families of Europe tame. The younger ones tend to be the most normal, but the older ones, yeah, you don't want to read those books. They have no qualms about whom they have sex with."
"But what about the Tremere-made revenants?" I asked her.
"They're more sane," she told me. "But they require more care in breeding. You have to keep the genetics varied to keep them sane, and you have to use females to continue the process as it guarantees the child is a revenant as well. Otherwise, the child is base human with a taste for blood."
"You're awful blaise about all this," I told her, and she just shrugged.
"It's not that I don't have the time, it's that I don't have the time," she said, then chuckled. "Maybe I should say, I might have thousands of years to devote to the process, but to micromanage my ghouls lives? That I don't have time for."
"Yeah, well," I said, shifting on my feet as I thought things over about what I was going to reveal and not wanting to reveal too much. "After I get things settled with the prince, I'm retiring to my home. I hated politics when living. And I really hate the politics that kindred play."
"Don't know if I'll get out of the house long enough to care," Meredith said sourly, looking at her books with clear scorn.
"I'm with her," Eloise said. "Tremere don't play politics. At least not the politics the prince wants to play. Now, if it were like it were before all the Ventrue showed up, I'd be getting ready to swing."
"Pretty wild?" I said, remembering what Damsel told me of the old Anarchs.
"Personal power was all that mattered," she told me. "And no one is more powerful than a Tremere mage."
I give her a smile, catching her eye. She held resolute for a moment, but I saw her fears grow as I darkened the room. She looked around warily, but the bulbs couldn't hold back the shadows I was unleashing. Her fears didn't ebb with the shadows as I let the bulbs fill the room with light again.
"Maybe I was wrong," she said in a low tone.
"And I still don't know what all I can do with it," I told her.
"I read a rumor once, mostly just a line of text in an old tome, that said Lasombra walked wherever he wanted, when he wanted by blocking the light of the sun itself."
"Maybe I'll try it sometime," I said, shrugging at a thought. "Out in the desert where no one can see it if I can do it."
"How long do you think you can hold it?" Eloise asked.
"I don't know," I told her, then saw her thoughtful expression and grew concerned. "Why?"
"Because, if you can hold it, especially over a large area, so can Lasombra," she told me and I felt a chill run up my spine. "He might even be able to do it worldwide."
"That would break the masquerade the world over," I said, and Eloise nodded slowly. "If he can hold it, we're talking a world ending event. Plants would stop growing, animals all over would die, and people would follow."
"Then us," Eloise said.
"Then me," I said silently. "Gehenna."
"Gehenna."
With that sad thought, I opened the door and walked out, letting the door slowly close behind me. Even Dominique stayed silent in my arms as I walked us down the now deserted balcony to my room, the pinking of the sky telling me dawn was approaching. When I went in to my room, the bed was empty. A look around the room gave evidence that Yukie had woken up and showered.
"Can I watch TV?" Dominique asked as I sat her down on the bed.
"Sure," I told her, laying the remote beside her. "Just keep it down. People with hangovers are sleeping."
"Thanks!" she said, and immediately began looking for something to watch before settling on an all cartoon network. I sat to the table, pulling Celeste's Grimoire out and flipping back to the revenant section. It seemed so easy, and I had the female ghoul already.
I heard the bathroom door open, said ghoul stepping out with a town wrapped around her and a towel in her hair. Looking at her like that, I could see her fending the men off with a baseball bat if I asked her to dress sexy in a short dress. A sudden need rose in me, and I frowned as I looked at the page containing the spell again. According to Celeste's notes, if I wrote the spell around her navel, the blood would soak into her skin and make her fertile within moments, holding for a day as her womb held the egg in the beginning of the luteal phase before allowing the body to eject the egg and beginning menstruation.
It was a fancy way of saying I had a day from the moment I wrote the spell on her body to get her pregnant. Watching her as she dried her hair and brushed her teeth, I had doubts about forcing bear a revenant child.
"Yukie," I asked her as she stepped into the room. "Mind if I ask you some questions?"
"You may ask dem..." she began to say, before cutting herself off with a shake of her head. "My apologies. I shouldn't call you demon."
"Call me Eliza," I told her, and she nodded. "Will you do anything and everything I ask of you?"
"I am yours," she said, looking unsure even as she said it.
I stood, moving closer to the ghoul. I removed her towel, setting it aside on the dresser. Yukie looked at the floor, but she didn't try to cover herself.
"Entirely mine?" I asked her and she gave me a quick nod.
I pooled the blood into my hand, taking a knee in front of her. "Hold still," I told her, and drew the spell on her stomach. She seemed to quake as I wrote the glyphs, but didn't move away.
"What are you doing?" she asked me, as I wrote the last one. The blood glowed for a moment, then was absorbed into her skin as if it were rubbed away. Figuring the spell was done, I stood.
"I'm using you to make a better class of ghoul," I told her. "They'll be born loyal to me."
"And my husband?" she said, her voice faint as she tried to take it all in.
"Wait here," I told her, going to the door and walking out into the predawn. I was headed to the manager's office, but saw a familiar looking ginger getting ice out of the machine.
"Hangover?" I asked him, and he nodded.
"Was going to make a smoothie with the hair of the dog that bit me," he said, filling his ice bucket from the slow producing machine. It was probably emptied by all the party goers making their own concoctions. I moved closer, propping myself up against the machine and the wall as I waited for him to look up.
"Damn thing is..." he said, finally lifting his head and I hit him with domination to cut him off mid-sentence. The moment I was looking at my own body, I moved to catch myself before I fell, letting my body fall over my shoulder as I used his stronger muscles to heft my small form over his shoulder.
"So easy," I said, taking what ice he had and my body back to my room. I fished my room key out of my pocket and opened the door to find Yukie standing where I left her. She covered herself when the door opened, then concern painted her face as she recognized my body.
"Eliza!" she said, rushing to take possession of my body.
"I'm fine," I told her, setting my body in the chair. I looked so lifeless just sitting there that I leaned myself over to lay my head on the desk so as to be sleeping. "It's what happened to me when I took possession of you."
"Oh," she said, still looking unsure. "What are you going to do now?"
"Make a revenant," I told her, pushing her towards the bed. My gargoyle made an eww sound, but I shushed her with a look. Yukie gave me a brief look of despair, before settling herself onto the bed. It seemed she really would do whatever I told her.
"I am ready," she whispered, looking up at the ceiling.
I climbed on top of her, positioning myself to make a ghoul in my ghoul. I expected Yukie to say no, but she never did, taking everything I decided to give her.
Begin Omaku 1
This omaku is a different idea on what Copper was doing for Michelle. I dropped it for reasons. The science is sound though.
"Researching," he told me. "Remy can't have kids, and I was tasked with finding out why that is."
"What do you mean?" I asked him. "She had a beautiful daughter."
"Yes," he said, frowning. "Beautiful singing voice too."
"How do you know what she sounds like?" I asked him. "If you only met Remy fifty years ago, you couldn't have met her daughter. She died in the forties."
"Remy has a record she keeps," he told me. "She plays it sometimes during the day when she misses her daughter too much."
"Alright," I told him. "What did you find out?"
"Nothing," he told me. "The ladies at the college couldn't tell me anything other than she's type A positive."
"Your blood type?" I asked him.
"Type A positive," he said.
"She shouldn't have a problem," I told him. "Unless..." I said as a thought hit me. "What type of blood does Michele drink?"
"Doctor's blood, usually Type A or O positive," he said, his eyes still hazy and unfocused.
"But not negative?" I asked him quizzically.
"Too rare," he said.
"Test her blood again," I told him, my doctor's training giving me hints at an answer but needed testing to be sure. "This time, do a full blood draw and take several samples. I'm not a doctor, but I'm guessing she's a negative blood type. If that's the case, she can't have kids with a type positive man like you without intervention, and lot's of it. First born are lucky, the mother doesn't have time to develop the antibodies that kill the other fetuses. Check her blood again, and you might have your answer."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and he turned to walk away but I grabbed him by the shoulder and looked deep into his eyes again.
"You will not remember this conversation," I told him, pushing the thoughts into his brain and hoping I was doing it right. "When asked, you will tell everyone it was a thought you had since you are ghouls who drink another's blood."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and this time I let him walk away as I stepped out the door.
Begin Omaku 2
I briefly thought about going to the tower, but decided against it. Here's a brief exchange between Eliza and Chunk
I was pulled from my thoughts as I arrived at the tower, parking out front. A view through the glass doors had me wanting to shadow-step to Walsh's office, as I saw Chunk walking around the lobby. I no more got out of the car though, when Chunk noticed me and his face lit up in joy.
I groaned as he came to the door, holding it open for me. "Howdy darling," he said, imitating a southern accent. "Didn't expect to see you in tonight."
"I have business upstairs," I told him as I walked by him. I tried to not notice him, walking on with a quickness I hoped he couldn't match. It didn't work, as he huffed a bit to stay caught up to me.
"More business for Mister Lacroix?" he said, as I passed the lobby and up the stairs. How did such a fat man keep pace like that? Wasn't he supposed to run out of air after the first few steps? "He seems like a such a nice young man. Bet he came from a rich family."
"Because he's too young to have acquired it all on his own?" I said, hoping he'd take the hint as I punched the button.
"Well, not really, I guess," he said, looking unsure of himself. "He must be really smart because when I was that young, I was still trying to move out of my parent's basement."
I sighed, looking at the lights over the elevator willing it to work faster. I couldn't help the snark though. "What did it take for you finally move out?"
"Oh, I never did," he said. "Parents passed several years ago. Left the house to me and my brother. He's in security too."
"Swell," I grumbled, a bit grumpy he didn't take the hint. "Ever try to do anything with your life besides security?"
"Tried college, but I was burned out of the whole education thing," he told me. "Nope. Security is a nice easy job that's so easy it should be criminal."
"Easy doesn't pay as well as what's hard," I told him, thinking that what I'd been through since my embrace was criminal in and of itself. "If it were easy, everyone would do it."
"Oh you can say that again," he told me. "I thought once about becoming a cop, but I couldn't pass the physical. Not that I'm not good with guns, but they wanted me to run long distances."
"Well, you have to run a suspect down," I told him. "You can't just let them get away. They might kill someone."
"Oh, I know," he said, just as the elevator finally opened.
"Well, you can't pause life," I told him, stepping in and hitting the topmost button. "Later."
"Later lemon cake!" he called as the doors shut him out. I sagged in relief against the far wall, glad I was past him. When I got things situated better, I was going to just shadow-step upstairs.
Stepping out of the elevator, I headed for Walsh's office, finding that there were a few people standing in a sort of line along the wall. Sighing, I fell into line with the others, and waited my turn.
Begin Omaku 3
Another exchange between Eliza and Chunk
I was pulled from my thoughts as I arrived at the tower, parking out front. A view through the glass doors had me wanting to shadow-step to Walsh's office, as I saw Chunk walking around the lobby. I no more got out of the car though, when Chunk noticed me and his face lit up in joy.
I groaned as he came to the door, holding it open for me. "Howdy darling," he said, imitating a southern accent. "Didn't expect to see you in tonight."
"I have business upstairs," I told him as I walked by him. I tried to not notice him, walking on with a quickness I hoped he couldn't match. It didn't work, as he huffed a bit to stay caught up to me.
"More business for Mister Lacroix?" he said, as I passed the lobby and up the stairs. How did such a fat man keep pace like that? Wasn't he supposed to run out of air after the first few steps? "He seems like a such a nice young man. Bet he came from a rich family."
"Because he's too young to have acquired it all on his own?" I said, hoping he'd take the hint as I punched the button.
"Well, not really, I guess," he said, looking unsure of himself. "He must be really smart because when I was that young, I was still trying to move out of my parent's basement."
I sighed, looking at the lights over the elevator willing it to work faster. I couldn't help the snark though. "What did it take for you finally move out?"
"Oh, I never did," he said. "Parents passed several years ago. Left the house to me and my brother. He's in security too."
"Swell," I grumbled, a bit grumpy he didn't take the hint. "Ever try to do anything with your life besides security?"
"Tried college, but I was burned out of the whole education thing," he told me. "Nope. Security is a nice easy job that's so easy it should be criminal."
"Easy doesn't pay as well as what's hard," I told him, thinking that what I'd been through since my embrace was criminal in and of itself. "If it were easy, everyone would do it."
"Oh you can say that again," he told me. "I thought once about becoming a cop, but I couldn't pass the physical. Not that I'm not good with guns, but they wanted me to run long distances."
"Well, you have to run a suspect down," I told him. "You can't just let them get away. They might kill someone."
"Oh, I know," he said, just as the elevator finally opened.
"Well, you can't pause life," I told him, stepping in and hitting the topmost button. "Later."
"Later lemon cake!" he called as the doors shut him out. I sagged in relief against the far wall, glad I was past him. When I got things situated better, I was going to just shadow-step upstairs.
Stepping out of the elevator, I headed for Walsh's office, finding that there were a few people standing in a sort of line along the wall. Sighing, I fell into line with the others, and waited my turn.
Begin Omaku 4
Yet another exchange. It's here I killed the idea and made a gargoyle. Can I poke my eyes out now?
I was pulled from my thoughts as I arrived at the tower, parking out front. A view through the glass doors had me wanting to shadow-step to Walsh's office, as I saw Chunk walking around the lobby. I no more got out of the car though, when Chunk noticed me and his face lit up in joy.
I groaned as he came to the door, holding it open for me. "Howdy darling," he said, imitating a southern accent. "Didn't expect to see you in tonight."
"I have business upstairs," I told him as I walked by him. I tried to not notice him, walking on with a quickness I hoped he couldn't match. It didn't work, as he huffed a bit to stay caught up to me.
"More business for Mister Lacroix?" he said, as I passed the lobby and up the stairs. How did such a fat man keep pace like that? Wasn't he supposed to run out of air after the first few steps? "He seems like a such a nice young man. Bet he came from a rich family."
"Because he's too young to have acquired it all on his own?" I said, hoping he'd take the hint as I punched the button.
"Well, not really, I guess," he said, looking unsure of himself. "He must be really smart because when I was that young, I was still trying to move out of my parent's basement."
I sighed, looking at the lights over the elevator willing it to work faster. I couldn't help the snark though. "What did it take for you finally move out?"
"Oh, I never did," he said. "Parents passed several years ago. Left the house to me and my brother. He's in security too."
"Swell," I grumbled, a bit grumpy he didn't take the hint. "Ever try to do anything with your life besides security?"
"Tried college, but I was burned out of the whole education thing," he told me. "Nope. Security is a nice easy job that's so easy it should be criminal."
"Easy doesn't pay as well as what's hard," I told him, thinking that what I'd been through since my embrace was criminal in and of itself. "If it were easy, everyone would do it."
"Oh you can say that again," he told me. "I thought once about becoming a cop, but I couldn't pass the physical. Not that I'm not good with guns, but they wanted me to run long distances."
"Well, you have to run a suspect down," I told him. "You can't just let them get away. They might kill someone."
"Oh, I know," he said, just as the elevator finally opened.
"Well, you can't pause life," I told him, stepping in and hitting the topmost button. "Later."
"Later lemon cake!" he called as the doors shut him out. I sagged in relief against the far wall, glad I was past him. When I got things situated better, I was going to just shadow-step upstairs.
Stepping out of the elevator, I headed for Walsh's office, finding that there were a few people standing in a sort of line along the wall. Sighing, I fell into line with the others, and waited my turn."
