Home Improvement: A Tale of Detroit

I come to in a room. It smells of peaches. I look up into shining hazel eyes as the radiant figure of my angel leans down over me. Her glowing face smiles slightly as she reaches up to wipe at my aching forehead. Where she touches pain flows away and peace comes. She leans back and sighs at me, her angel lips pursing slightly. She asks me what the fuck is going on. I blink a few times...not the angel, she's not the angel. Tina, I called Tina and now I'm in her apartment. I look over at her. She's wearing tight jeans and a baggy shirt. Her light brown hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail. She eyes me critically as I try to sit up, my body explodes inta pain.

Don't get up she tells me as I sink back onto the couch. I tell her she coulda freakin' told me that before I tried ta sit up. She points out that I'm bleeding all over her couch, and she did come out and pick me up after my phone call, and maybe I could show a little gratitude instead of just bitching right away like the big macho monkey I always end up acting like whenever she fucking comes out to pull my ass outta any sort of damn problem! She pants for air a bit after her tirade.

I say thanks.

It don't seem ta help her relax.

Dames...go figure.

I give her the story up to this point, making sure to keep it simple. I tell her about the Ventrue who broke my bottle. I tell her about Gloria and how she begged me for help. I tell her about how I killed Gregory. I tell her about how Gloria turned on me and tried to blow me away. Tina gets all bent outta shape about the whole affair. She asks me if I'm sure Gloria asked for help. She asks if maybe Gloria was just defending herself. She asks exactly why breaking a bottle deserves a horrid beating. Basically she seems to think it's all my fault.

I slump back, too tired ta really listen to her. Instead I let my mind loose, like it seems ta want to be. I seem ta recall standing on a mountain somewhere looking down at some huge city in a desert. I seem to be making some sorta vow. Something about revenge and honor. Then I'm down in tunnels being grabbed by some shadowy figure. Then I'm waking up in a dumpster while little dancing hamsters parade along my chest. I sit and realize something as I watch them. Revenge, it's all I've ever done, for myself or others. Does that make me a bad person, or a good one? Then I'm back in Tina's apartment. Amy's shown up.

Oh yeah, did I mention that beside being a mage that Tina's a dyke? Damn shame what with the equipment she has. I asked her about it once, but she hauled off and slugged me for it. Anyways, Amy is a lawyer though she's just a regular human besides that. Yeah, a lawyer and a shrink pair o dykes. Damn shame about Amy too, she also has a pretty good rack. Also, despite the fact that Amy's just a regular human, Tina's takin' to telling her all about the supernatural world around her. Well Amy listens to Tina's story and occasionally glances over at me with a frown. Needless ta say that Amy don't like me very much, she thinks I'm dangerous and will get Tina hurt. She's probably right, but at least she don't complain about the sofa or demand I get out. She also agrees to go arrange to get some blood out of a nearby blood bank. Sweet gal.

After Amy leaves I tell Tina what I need. Just a place to heal and lay low for a little while. Then I'll go and deal with Gloria and this whole mess will be over. For some reason that don't seem to relax Tina any. She goes off on some long spiel about what's right and wrong. Basically she seems ta think I'm wrong, and leaving the whole mess alone is right. Now, I don't know about all these social obligations and society expectations she's blabbering about. What I do know is I don't leave my business unfinished...

Two nights later I'm back on my own feet. Tina has me all bandaged up like some freakin' reject from a mummy movie. But whatever it is she's doing it is helping me heal quicker then normal. I'm in the kitchen relaxing and chatting about country music with a few cowboys when Tina walks in on me. She demands ta know the last time I took my medicine was. I wonder what she's on about till it occurs to me that there weren't no cowboys in her apartment. Why would there be? I told you she's a dyke, right? It then occurs to me that I haven't taken my medicine for about five nights. Guess that means maybe I ain't in the best mental shape of my life, but that's okay cause physically I'm starting ta feel pretty good. I check my pockets and can't find the pills, my coat had gotten all shot ta hell and was barely holding up itself, much less some bottle. I shrug in apology and mutter about how I need ta get a new coat.

Tina gets all bent outta shape, she starts going on and on about how I can't be thinkin' about killing somebody unless I know for certain what I'm killing them for. It sorta makes sense, so I agree ta sit tight while she runs off to her office to mix up a fresh batch of pills. She says we're gonna have a good long chat about what I oughta do when she gets back. Sweet kid Tina, too bad I was lyin' my teeth off. Soon as she slips out the door I'm popping out her window and scaling down the back wall of her apartment building. I drop the last few feet to the ground and breath in the stale city air. It's aromas as familiar to me as my own face. Yeah, the city's been moving while I've been healing, I better get a feel for it again before I make any moves.

I know where ta go, I know what ta do. I head down ta Gurdy's. The bouncer gives me an odd look, my clothes are still torn and splattered with my and Gregory's blood. My face and arms are practically covered with bandages. But he also knows about me, and about Gurdy's rule to always let me in. I don't get a lot of guff here, that's why I like it. Gurdy makes sure I get a nice place to spend my nights, I make sure that the bodies he needs disappeared are never found. It's one of those...y'know symbiotic relationships or something. Symbiotic, means both people benefit. I found that word in a dictionary. More people should read the dictionary, lotsa good words in there. But I'm not here for words, or quiet, or even a shot o Gurdy's brew. I'm here looking for something small and hairy.

Weevil...the little feller's sittin' at a table and sucking back some sauce. He's an informant. He works for anyone and is even on the Setite's payroll. I broke his legs once or twice. He's a friend. He glances up and spots me coming, tries ta bolt right outta his chair. I grab him on the top of his head and shove him back down. Relax Weevil, I tell him, I'm just here ta talk, it's money in your pocket. He gets all worried, running his hands through his long frizzly hair and yammering away in that crazy stutter of his. Basically he says I'm too dangerous to be hanging around right now. I ask him when he thinks I'd be less dangerous...he goes quiet.

I break a few fingers and get him talking. He tells me that a bloodhunt has been called on me. It's not being particuarly obeyed except by the Ventrue and Toreador, though it's a sure bet that the sheriff is hunting for me too. Man, that dame Gloria done gone and framed me for killing her sire...eh? Whazzat? I did kill him? Well hell I know that! But I did it for the wrong reasons, and it wasn't those reasons that she was blaming me for! Anyways, Weevil mentions that now Gloria has been appointed a spot in Steven's court and gotten all sorts of prestige and power outta the whole mess. She's even remodeling the whole damn mansion to suit her tastes.

I grab Weevil and tell him plain and simple. I tell him ta go find Gloria and tell her he saw me. Tell her I was hittin' the clubs and getting drunk off my ass over some babe who messed with me. I tell him ta get good money for it too, cause it'd be worth it. I let him go, he goes running off like a bat outta hell. I don't worry about the possibility he might not do what I ask, he knows I'd live just long enough ta make sure he regretted it. I stomp up to the bar, it's only when I dig inta my pockets that I realize I don't have any cash. No cash means no booze. Damn!

But then things take a bright note, there was some jumpy guy who'd just gotten himself a bottle of Gurdy's special brew. Thing is the guy is jumpy as hell, and he gets all excited when this strawberry blonde comes up and hits on him. They talk a bit and he walks off with a big grin on his face. I give him a toast with his own abandoned bottle. Ah, ain't love grand? I sip my drink, I hang out. Harris wanders in, he's another pal o' mine. Kinda quiet and strange, but a decent sort. We sit together in a corner and listen to Nancy do her thing on stage, Harris of course leaves right after that.

I've just gotten drunk enough ta start feeling dangerous when I feel the barrel of a gun poke inta the small of my back. A thick accented voice tells me ta finish my drink. I glance up, It's Meno and some other little dweeb. I grin as I finish off the dregs of the bottle, bout damn time they showed up. I stand up, the little guy stays behind me, the gun pressing into my back. Meno walks along in front of me as he leads us towards the back door. I look him up and down, big dangerous guy an' all but...I tell him that he's got one nice coat. Hell, it's one of those sweet flap-back trenchcoats they seemed ta stop making in the fifties.

We step out through the back, and right on cue Gurdy amps up the speakers ta drown out the noise. I'm talking about Meno's coat when I, for some dumb reason, manage ta stumble. Surprise, surprise when I grab out for something I happen ta snag the little dweeb's gun arm. He realizes what's about ta go down and yells a warning ta Meno. The big guy spins around even as I get a good grip on the gun, I cap him in the gut. He howls as he falls back, phosphorus rounds, I had kinda figured they'd be.

I twist around, splintering the gunman's arm as I grab his face. I spin it around and slam it inta the brick wall of the alley. I keep doing it, the wet smacking sounds echo slightly off the high walls. Finally I drop him, he ain't gonna get up again for a good long time. If ever. I point the gun at Meno who's trying ta get to his feet. I shoot him in the leg. He bawls like a baby as he drops to the ground. I tell him ta take off his coat. He glares at me through pain filled eyes but does as he's told. I tell him to fill me in, I want the whole damn story.

He spills the beans while I switch into his coat. Gloria was some piece of work. She had planned the whole thing out. First off she wasn't just Gregory's childe, she was his broodmate, one of Steven's childer. She had moved in with him, he had offered to help her out after some Sabbat torched her old place. She had been positioning herself to take over his whole operation, she didn't plan on living just off what he would give her. But she had needed a easy way ta remove him, something that wouldn't make Steven suspect her. When she had seen me it had all fallen inta place. She'd found the perfect patsy. Someone that nobody of note would think twice about blaming and killing without a messy investigation.

Needless ta say that sorta pisses me off. Being used by the anarchs as a legbreaker is one thing, but this dame used me big time. I planned to collect... I smack Meno around a bit more as a warning. I tell him that I'm a little confused and don't wanna kill anyone till I was sure they deserved it. But I told him that if he went back to her, if he stayed near her, then his goose was as good as cooked. He laughed at me, laughed and asked what I thought I could do to a Ventrue childe of the prince. Me, a nothing, a Caitiff nobody. He laughs some more. I grab him and headbutt him hard enough ta snap his neck. He drops to the ground, I dump his gun next to him as I walk off.

I go for a walk as I think things over. I'm not the brightest of guys, but if I think on something long enough I can usually manage to figure it out. Yeah, Gloria had worked me like a two-bit jukebox. And I had played all the tunes she'd requested. Now the whole city was hunting me thinking I'd killed off the prince's childe. Meanwhile Gloria was sitting back and reaping in all the rewards off of killing her broodmate. She was as dangerous as she was beautiful. There weren't exactly any holes in her plan I could work on. Hell, she'd even set it up so I actually did murder the bum.

Then it occurs to me. What about the other childer of the prince? Shouldn't they be sweating over this whole mess a little? After all, what's to keep Gloria from turning around and working this little game on them too. Well, with that as a thought I get to walking with a purpose. I drift into downtown Detroit. The tall office buildings loom over me and block out any easy sight of the stars or moon. I find the chief offices for the Detroit Herald and wander through the doors.

A couple security guards seem to materialize around me as I step into the lobby. They nervously watch me as one of 'em demands ta know my business. I tell him I don't really have a job and he seems ta get all pissed at me for no reason. I tell him I need ta see Jamieson. They get nervous and glance at each other a bit. Then the leader looks at me with his watery little eyes while his lip curls back in a sneer. He tells me that Mr. Jamieson ain't seein' nobody. He tells me maybe I better turn around and get outta here before they call up the sheriff. Some of his pals chuckle as their hands drift down towards their guns.

It really gets my goat when people laugh at me and I don't get the joke.

I reach out and grab the head guard's arm. I break it. The others all freak out and go for their weapons. Now, with them drawing their guns obviously I had to defend myself. It's not like I was lookin' for a fight. It was just the only sane course o' action was all. I quickly backhand the nearest guy, my fist shattering his face. My foot arcs out and cracks inta another one's knee, splintering it apart. One of the guy's behind me jumps on my back and wraps his arms around my head. A few bullets rip inta my side. I spin around for the two gunmen. I shoulder inta one and stomp down on his groin. At the same instant I grab the other by his shirt and ram my head forward inta his. Blood sprays across my face as I drop him and reach out to grab onto one who was trying to run. I pull his head towards me as I kick him in the back. I hear his spine snap as the one with a broken leg starts shooting at me. I hurl the broken backed fellow inta him.

My head is pulled slightly to the side, that's when I remember the one on my back. I reach up and pop his shoulder outta joint as I drag him off. I grab his jaw and pull it off. Blood sprays out of his shattered face as I toss the jaw away and drop him. I walk over and grab the whimpering commander. I ask him where I can find Jamieson. He tells me that his office is on the top floor and points to the elevators. I thank him and snap his neck. I wipe some of the blood off my face as I step inta the elevator. Don't want to give Jamieson a bad first impression after all.

Yeah, Jamieson is the sort ya wanna make a good first impression on. He's a Ventrue and is the childe of Eric; Seneschal of the city and eldest of prince Steven's childer. Blake Jamieson was the biggest mover and shaker of the prince's group that I figured I could get an easy meeting with. That's because Blake's in charge of keeping track of all the news organizations in town. It's his job to keep any mention of Kindred activities out of the papers and news programs. As a result he keeps regular office hours and is forced to meet with lots o' people.

Tonight he gets ta meet with me.

The elevator doors hiss open as I step into the outer office. Some little pretty boy kid is sitting behind the desk. He looks up at me with a strained smile. He bats his goofy eyes and asks if I would be so kind as to wait. Jeez I hate these pansy types so many of us keep around. By us, I mean vampires. Where was it written we had to surround ourselves with skinny little teenyboppers who struck our fancy? The kid also has long blonde hair...man I hate that. I walk over to his desk and snarl down at him. I ask if he's gonna stop me. He nervously starts ta stand up...I make him sit down again.

I walk inta Blake's office and slam shut the door so we won't have to listen to the bawling cries of pain from that punk kid. Blake is sitting behind his desk and frowning. He looks about like I'd expected. Thin, his brown hair prematurely balding, a pair of horn rimmed glasses perched on his narrow nose. I walk up to shake his hand. Then I realize I'm still holding a big clump of that kid's hair. Blake's eyes widen as he eyes the bloody clump. I shrug and toss it over my shoulder. I tell him we need ta talk. I start telling him about Gloria, and how dangerous she could be ta Eric, Blake's sire.

Blake locks eyes with me. He tells me to calm down and back off. I ask him what the heck he's talking about. He repeats himself, but this time I feel the tug at my mind. The little pansy is trying to jerk me around with that Ventrue dominate trick! Problem is that apparently I'm a more powerful generation then him, thus I ain't affected. I come over his desk and grab onto the lapels of his suit. He starts screaming and crying about how I shouldn't hurt him. I hold him over my head and shake him around a bit. I demand ta know why he's trying to dominate me. He blubbers about the blood hunt and the prince's orders. He says thanks to Gloria I'm as good as dead.

Suddenly the office doors slam open. I turn around and watch a fresh batch of guards storm in. Leading them in is a young man dressed all in black. Michael, one of the sheriff's deputies and a supposed badass. He orders me to drop Jamieson and come quietly. He says that I have an appointment with the sun and he plans on making sure I keep it. He strides ahead of the guards and marches right up to me. He says that the prince has ordered my death, and that I should just accept it. He reminds me nobody has ever crossed prince Steven and lived.

Then it occurs ta me. The prince! Of course, if I wanna sort things out I need ta get the prince on my side. I chuck Blake across the room and into his guards. They all go down in a big and confused jumble. I smile as I grab Michael's trench coat and start pushing him back. He growls in surprised anger and grabs at me. Too late does he realize where I'm rushing us to...convienent of Blake to have all these big fancy windows. I hate having to waste all that time in an elevator. The glass shatters in an explosion of sharp, jagged bits. Wind hisses across my face. For one glorious moment it feels like I'm flying with my angel.

Then we hit.

I come to and start sending blood out to patch up my extensive collection of shattered bones. I glance over at Michael, he's laying there and healing too. I start telling him about the whole thing with Gloria. I tell him I need him to take me to see the prince. I pull myself to my feet and lean down to pick him up. I point out all the dangers that Gloria could pose. By the time he's finished healing I can clearly hear the sirens of approaching police. I ask Michael what his move is.

He says maybe I better see the prince. We get into his black Caddie and drive off. Michael starts handing me all these veiled threats about how lucky I am. He points out how I better behave for Steven, else he's going to rip me apart. He mutters a few more threats as we finally arrive at some huge mansion on the outskirts of town. The door is opened by a tough looking fellow in a black suit. He leads us inta some big room full of books and other little doodads.

Michael heads off ta speak ta Steven. He leaves the tough guy watching me. I kinda pace around the room and poke around in some of the books. Most of them are really strange, don't even look like the writer knew good English. I just picked up some little wicker action figure when the doors swing open. I look up in surprise and accidentally crush the toy. Steven stands in the doorway, flanked by Michael and a few more fellows who look a lot like the doorman. His eyes narrow as he looks at the figure in my hand. I shrug and say he's probably too old to still own toys. I drop it back on the pedestal I got it off of.

Steven clenches his hands a few times, then chuckles and shrugs. He smiles as he sits down in a big leather chair. He motions for me ta sit in another. He then asks me ta give him the whole story. He listens carefully. He don't even have ta interrupt me with stupid questions like some other people I know. Finally he nods and asks what it is I'd like to do about this whole little mess. I figure to just tell it straight, I tell him I plan ta go kill Gloria real painfully. Steven smirks at me. He says I have a remarkably simple manner of both causing and fixing problems.

But he says it is good that I came to see him fortuitous to these events. I had to go look up that word later. Fortuitous...it means...later. I just nod a bit. He tells me that if something were to happen to Gloria it might not be such a bad thing. He says perhaps the Blood Hunt could be shifted slightly. Redirected away from around her house. He says that if I do things right he might even make the whole problem disappear.

I say thanks.

I tell him I was sure he'd understand what was going down. We shake hands and he has Michael lead me out. The little pansy threatens me a bit more. Makes all sort of suggestions about what could happen to me if I messed things up. Luckily for him I was on good behavior around the prince's house, so he got to keep all his body parts in one piece. So anyways, I get to walkin' back to Tina's place, figuring I had to plan out what to do about Gloria.

As I walk a sweet little green Thunderbird pulls up next to me. Some guy wearin' little red glasses and with his hair all up in a purple mohawk tells me ta get in. I laugh at him and tell him I know when I've been off my medication too long. I know what's real and what isn't. He seems ta just get pissed and tells me ta get in the damn car. It then occurs to me that even my delusions have more sense of style then this guy...so I figure maybe I oughta see what he wants.

We drive out to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Inside it looks like some sorta meeting is going down. Just a few people hanging out and shooting the breeze. As I come in they all seem ta get excited. They start cheering and laughing and patting me on the back. I begin to wish this was just a delusion, it'd probably make more sense that way. Purple mohawk man then introduces me to this little slip of a teenager dressed up in the latest fashions. Of course the latest fashions for kids are pants two sizes too big, and shirts three sizes too small. I try not to laugh at her.

She says her name is La Belle Dame Sans Moris. She says she's the leader of the local cell of anarchs. Then she asks if I would do them the honor of joining up. Y'see, apparently they think I went and offed one of the prince's childer because of my anguish over the social bigotry the Ventrue and elders impose on the poor neonates of the city. Mind you those were her words, not mine. Well I look over all these goofy punks and just shrug. I tell them I don't have time to join up right now cause I have to go kill Gloria.

For some reason that sets them all off again. They start howling about vengeance and reclaiming their pride. They slap me on the back and call me a hero. Belle just gasps and asks if I'm serious. She says that Gloria is probably the second most politically powerful Ventrue in the city. She warns me that Gloria is actually making a move for the princedom of the city. She says that maybe it'd be dangerous to go and try to get rid of her. After all, she surely has guards against anything the prince might try. Not to mention the whole problem of a Blood Hunt on my head.

All of a sudden some other guy comes racing in. He's all excited as horseshit about something. He starts yelling about how some maniac stormed Blake Jamieson's office. How he killed a buncha guards, mutilated Jamieson's favored vessel, and beat the hell outta Jamieson and Michael. I tell them I only chucked Jamieson around a bit and shoved Michael outta window. All of a sudden they're totally losing it. They shout and yell, acting like I'm John Wayne or something.

Belle grabs onto my hand, her eyes flash eagerly. She says it would be her honor to work with me. She begs me to join with them and let them help me with my just crusade...once again, these are her words, not mine. Well, I'm not really sure what they're so worked up about. But the thought of having a bit of backup when I go in ta face Gloria sounds like a decent idea...

So I say sure.