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 VtM:EP - Mount The Pale Horse

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Maxus Corvin

Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 25
Location : Normandy SR-2

PostSubject: VtM:EP - Mount The Pale Horse   Tue Nov 12, 2013 4:02 pm

Chapter I – In Darkness, Salvation

The thinking was insane, although a comparison to him would be irrelevant. Even if it was the sort of thinking that many had used, it seemed to always prove itself, once again, to be a foregone conclusion – as it would always be. Although there would be the possibility that this could change, for now, it would not. He had secured himself against an easy death, at least for those who sought to cause it. Should he die, there would be many who would seek to spill the blood of his murderer, even if many Kindred had a certain, distaste, or dislike for him. He was still a Primogen, and that would be enough for many to take up arms, among other things.

Much of this, at this point, did not matter. What did, was the same as always. Alive was not the way he kept himself, but saying such was close enough. He had many choices as to how he could start, but only one of them was his goal. A bargain made, a life taken, and thus did he gain another ally. Different from the rest, but still a treasure.

In his mind, it was a struggle. For what he survived, it would not be rewarded, save for the possibility of survival. Behind it, was a snarling beast, one that had little care for decency, morality, or anything else that is socially demanded. To think that here he was, wandering around the city he had called home for so long, being very close to an animal sniffing for scraps of meat – and if he found such a thing, the meat would not be his concern.

“Did you really think that would go any other way?” Helena's voice broke through his thoughts.

Looking up, he noticed her form staring at him. As usual, he couldn't help but smile. “There was a chance, and surviving a fall like that, even with the knowledge that it can be, still requires luck. It is thanks to a fortuitous meeting with a certain, 'lone wolf', that I possessed such luck. But the fall itself would be meaningless to survive, if the sun seared me first.”

The look on her face was that of a mother, as he expected. “I hate it when you take risks like that – even if this might be the first time that it might've gotten, killed.”

Standing, he realized a problem he was having. Nothing he couldn't deal with, but it was the one singular risk which every Kindred faces – Frenzy. The state in which control over emotions becomes hard to hold, as they lapse into thinking which forces only one thing, and that is to find blood, along with surviving. The details were never important, only that the need was satisfied. Most worried about the obvious, such as killing someone they did not mean to, or causing a scene, that is, in more ways than just one, messy.

Did he want to tear into the neck of the closest person? Certainly not. But his options were limited, and walking another few feet would be like a man trying to cross several miles in a desert for water that wasn't certain to be there. He could try, but soon enough, he'd lose every inhibition he had, and anyone close by, well, they would do nicely, no matter who it was. Some sorts of people though, he would have little, if any regret to walk away from their corpse.

Turning his head, he couldn't help but sigh. A predictable scenario, which he wasn't implicitly hoping for, but he would take it all the same. A man stood before him, holding a knife. On his waist was a gun, and it was clear that he would try, at least to use both of his weapons. It was clear that his man wasn't anyone of note, no matter how much he wanted to be. Briefly wondering what such a man would want out of someone like him, Jackal smiled.

“You lost, kid?”

“As always. But the lack of knowledge on my placement, is the least of my concerns. What I am, at this moment, is thirsty – like you will never believe.” There was laughter in Jackal's voice, which seemed to confuse the man.

“Hell, I almost feel guilty for this, but given the way you look, you must have something. Tell you what, if you can give me something, then I'll be glad to get you whatever drink you want.” The man didn't flinch or move, but Jackal could tell he was on edge. Be it drugs, alcohol or anything else, he didn't know, but then he didn't care either. It wouldn't matter what was in the man's bloodstream, none of it bothered him. He tended to like trying new things, at least once.

Jackal's smile widened. “So you are offering yourself to me, then? Well, how can I refuse such an invitation? I cannot.” Flexing his hand, his bones seemed to crack. Reaching his hand out, he grabbed the man by his neck, lifting him off the ground. At this, he felt the man's fear, his blood quickening. “I feel it. I see it. You've sinned, you've lied, cheated, wronged. How do you think she felt in those last moments? How do you think your son felt, when you used, then killed him? How do you think your friends feel – but then, they are tools for you, and you don't care about them. Will they care about you? I doubt that. But if anything, know that my thirst is not for what you think. I seek blood, and yours will do nicely. However, I will not apologize. You, are not innocent, nor have you never been.”

Dropping the man to the ground, Jackal pounced on him, sinking his fangs into the flesh of his neck. The feeling of blood in his mouth lit his veins on fire, his eyes widened, and his beast was screaming for more. As he knew, more would be all he wanted. At least, from this one. Draining someone to death had no other repercussions than regret, and proper disposal, but both of them were trivial matters, at least to him.

It was quite rare that he did this, and in the previous cases, it was always someone who deserved it – just as it was here. The idea of due process was fine for humans, but punishment by the whim of a Vampire, is always more severe. It was an obvious idea for fledgling Vampires, at least ones who had a shred of humanity after their embrace, if the idea of drinking blood wasn't repulsive – go after the worst of humanity, and the regret is easier to wash down, so long as they don't start regretting first what they are. He would never regret that – primarily because that would mean hating the choice she made, and he could not bring himself to do that.

When he stood, he finally felt like himself again. Perhaps he would be different, but it would be for the better. If he didn't like the change, he would be what he always was. But now, it fell to what he would do. His ruse had been played very well, and things had happened as he wanted. Now, his goal was simple. For a time, he would be a ghost, hidden within his own city. One place offered that, and the company was not lacking. How long would this go on for? As long as he wished, even if it went past the date which Azrael believed to be the end. It would not be, even if he was not present for it.

A few streets over, it was a warehouse district near the docks. One of the buildings he owned, but nothing was really stored there, at least, nothing anyone but him knew about. Akhet was only vaguely aware of this, although it wasn't as if she simply did not know about it. He didn't lie to her, but instead, just didn't tell her everything. Soon enough, she would understand. Walking up to the steel door, he looked at the keypad beside it.

Approaching this, a voice spoke – one that was not unlike Helena's. “Who are you?”

With a smile, Jackal spoke what it wanted to hear. “I hear the voices, I understand them. I listen in the night, and I admire the song of the blood.

The door's motion was not simple. Perhaps one of his more unusual ideas, but the door split into four sections, each falling away. Behind it, was another door, made from the same material, although this one split in half, each piece sliding sideways. Stopping halfway, the space just large enough for him to pass, he did so, the door slowly closing behind him. It was certainly an oddity, one which he now realized that, at some point, he would replace the bloody thing.

Feeling around the walls, he felt for a switch. Once he found the small plastic piece, he pushed it. This not only only caused a light to illuminate the space he was in, but also for the floor, walls, and ceiling above him to raise. He was not fond of this sort of thing, even if his own building had elevators, this was no more than a freight elevator. Not the worst, but for now, it wasn't a concern. Not one he would dwell on any longer, at least.

Within a minute or two, it stopped, and the doors opened for him. Stepping off, the doors closed, and he sighed. The thoughts ran through his head as always, but none of it was true. He knew it, and it was always proven to him, time after time. What? Well, the idea that the occupant of this building was too loose, to much someone who could attract the wrong sort of attention, but that was never the case.

The room he was in, while large, wasn't well lit. Even in the dim light, he could see the things scattered around the room, but it wasn't chaos. The room was littered with furniture, which would not be out of place in the average home. Save for the fact that most of it was not average, all of it befitting the dream of the average goth, although perhaps that isn't the correct way to put it. Still, much of the implements would not be out of place in his hotel.

Decorated like a darker version of a bachelor pad, although without the mess that usually accompanies it. Which is to be expected, even if Vampires do tend to be messy drinkers, it isn't that pleasant to have blood spilled everywhere, as it is something of a waste. This aside, the only real mess that he could see, would be the same sort of average clutter that almost any house would have, but this had a certain, bent, about it, that most homes wouldn't. Or at least, these would be things most would have tucked away quickly, even if no kids would or could be involved.

Finding the light switch, he had a brief chuckle to himself as the room was illuminated. Not at anything specific, although the almighty quote did run through his mind. Perhaps a bad joke on his part, but he found it funny.

Running his hand on the leather sofa, he collapsed on it, wishing to stifle his thoughts. He knew exactly what he was going to do, but it didn't help that he was nervous. The last time, it was merely a nap in Akhet's arms for ten years, which was pleasing every single moment, and not just for him. The reason was one which many kindred had, although he didn't have any sort of wish to sleep a century away. In this case, it would not be a decade, but long enough. Even if it had been five years since then, his thinking was that he had slept enough. The issues that were caused over a year after he awakened last time, was the sort of issue that boiled his blood, since he didn't have any wish to get wrapped up in it.

Raising his head from the smooth leather, he smiled. His eyes set themselves upon what looked like a large piece of brushed metal, about as big as an average outdoor pool. Standing, he walked over to it, pulling down a cover, which held a few buttons. Pressing one of them, the lid slid out of place, and the contents were revealed.

The basin was filled with blood, and the smell filled his nostrils, causing them to flare. An inviting sight, even if he was quite full. Some would question where all of it came from, but that wasn't really on his mind. He knew no one died for it, and that was enough. Although, even if they did, at this point, he simply could not care.

Looking down, a rather wide panel slid downwards, revealing a set of metal steps, which led directly up to the top of the basin. He chuckled at this, but the design wasn't his. With a smile he turned, walking back over to the sofa.

Pulling of his jacket, he threw it on the sofa. Taking a seat, he removed his boots, placing them beside the sofa as he stood. Once again, he had a similar thought as before, as he unbuttoned his shirt, laying it over his jacket. The thoughts were obvious, but what else could be done? Even in regular water, he wouldn't go fully clothed, and in this instance, there really was no one around who would care. Even if there was, he couldn't help but think that they care too much.

Removing his pants, he stripped himself down, placing them on the sofa as well. Walking over to the pool, he walked up the steps, his face marked with a smile as he stepped into the pool, slowing wading himself into the blood. It was an odd feeling, but one which nearly any Kindred would have loved the indulgence of. Perhaps the image was enough to cause fear among humans, but for some Kindred, this was common place. Mostly among the Sabbat, but many Camarilla Kindred likely did the same thing, even if they would never admit to it.

He couldn't say he did it often, but on occasion, the idea was pleasing, and the act even more so. While it does create quite the scene, it can be absolute murder on clothing, which is one of the reasons that wearing nothing was almost a requisite. Still, it was like having a bath for him, although at least in this instance, he could relax a bit, instead of having to muddle his thoughts. Which does sound rather like innuendo, but one can do some serious thinking as such.

His eyes focusing on a shape in the darkness, he smiled. Just as he thought, his friend had just arrived. It seemed that this was always the case, but then, the situation was nothing but, since Jackal's usual visits had more fanfare. But that didn't mean this would be completely unexpected.

“Jackal? Lovely. I see you are already enjoying the bath.”

The voice had a sweet tone to it, almost like the feeling of silk on skin. Turning his head, he focused his eyes on this person, even if he already knew who it was. Although certainly an oddity, it could be that many kindred could be counted as such even as their appearance could be described as average.

The one he started at seemed usual, although only for the moment. The classic raven hair, neatly pulled back, with only a hair or two out of place, and all of them looking more like casual carelessness, than what could be considered a mess. His skin was pale, and quite feminine, even if the face could not be confused for a female. The eyes that looked at Jackal were a pair of rubies, and the face bore the usual fanged smile.

However, in seconds, this visage of undeath changed into something quite, different. The pale skin bled into a soft chocolate color, with a 'wet' look to it. His red eyes didn't change, nor did the shape of his face. But the hair that framed it, did. Going from a shiny black, to a shiny white, almost silver. His hair seemed to fall over the sides of his face, but not covering his eyes. A visible part appeared in the middle of his head, and his hair seemed to almost change it's texture, looking as if it was made from an almost liquid-like metal.

Opening his mouth, every single one of his teeth seemed to lengthen, all of them becoming sharp fangs. “I take it that you have...died, then? But it is no more than a joke, as many will find out.”

With a sigh, Jackal frowned. “I do not like this deception, but the choice was limited. It may be true that I could've ended the situation, but it wouldn't have been right. Much would've been lost, had I done so.”

Noticing this kindred's outfit, Jackal smiled. It was not more than his usual, and it could be argued that Jackal himself tended to dress similarly, but for this kindred, it was different. Dressed in all leather, with a pair of belts at the top of his long gloves, his boots, and his waist, along with a pair around his neck, which seemed more like a collar than a choker. His top was almost like corset, with only a little of his upper torso being exposed, his shoulders and stomach being covered, around which was a set of belts. His lower body was covered by a leather skirt, held up by a number of belts.

“It would be like that, wouldn't it? But do not mistake me, I am glad for your inclusion. Understand that I have yet to regret your offer, and I have no hatred for the one who embraced me. I do miss him so, but I cannot scorn a visit to home, even if it is so far away.”

Jackal leaned his head back. “I'm sure that Nemu might be back at some point. After all, he is not bound to earth as most of your clan, and it may be that you share this...oddity. I cannot say what others of your clan might say about this, but many of your clan are steeped in tradition, and some of them may take grave offense to such a thing, a member of the Tzimisce clan who is not bound to such a tradition, and it was random chance that influenced such a thing.” He shrugged.

The Kindred smiled, his smile still full of fangs. “Let them care. I do not. If I am bound to such a thing, fine. If I am not, it is one more caress of freedom, which I will accept, as always.”

“As is my case as well, Shouji. Even though many traditions and accepted facets of life may work, there are those for whom they do not. If only because the person in question feels nothing for what may be an ancient tradition, or an accepted fact that is ridiculous.”

Shouji sighed. “If you do not mind my asking, what is it that you plan to do?”

Laying his head back, Jackal smiled. “For the moment? Bathe in blood, and if nothing else, relax. I do not plan on doing any more than that, as I have rested enough. Soon enough, I will act, and it will be when I make that fallen angel feel fear.”

Turning his head, Jackal noticed more movement, as did Shouji, who turned around. An animal-like form had just fallen in the same roof-top hatch that Shouji had, although it closed behind this time. The sound whimpers filled the room, as a dog with dark fur, and a pair of mis-matched eyes entered into their sight.

“Schakali? Good boy. Come here.” Jackal lovingly stared at the dog, as he watched the canine walk up the few steps, his walk hindered by a limp in at least two of his legs. Slipping into the blood, the dog sat up in the basin, his eyes level with Jackal's. “Something else that woman will pay for.” He bit into his wrist, and offered it to the dog. “As before, so shall it be again. Taste my blood, and become my friend.”

Jackal winced as the dog almost savagely bit into his wrist, the jaws coming down on it with force. The dog's eyes widened, drinking down Jackal's blood. In seconds, he released his jaw, looking at his master, with a sorrowful look on his face.

I am sorry.” The dog spoke to Jackal, his voice heard with an echo.

Shaking his head, Jackal nuzzled his faced against Schakali's. “You need not be, my friend. The blame does not rest on you, and you do not deserve any. Not for my wound, nor for anything else. The wounds will heal, and the one who harmed us, will be suitably punished. She will not touch either of us, in such a shameful way again.”
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Maxus Corvin

Posts : 478
Join date : 2010-10-03
Age : 25
Location : Normandy SR-2

PostSubject: Re: VtM:EP - Mount The Pale Horse   Wed Nov 13, 2013 12:48 pm

Chapter II – Black Widow

“An overdue measure, even if some may say that it is useless. I believe otherwise.” Jackal sighed, stepping out of the limo. There were obvious reasons for what would be his second return to this place, most of them sentimental, where only one was for a practical reason.

Staring up at the abandoned church, he couldn't help but remember his first sight of it. At the time, the Camarilla were not directly on their heels for what his Sire had done, but they were not far off. Miles away, and enough days, that there was time for what must be done. It was what neither of them wanted, but the choice had to be made.

Shouji stepped out of the driver's door, closing it as he softly whistled. “So, this is the last place you were able to spend time with Helena. Sad. What is it you plan to do here?”

“Very little, really. Aside for what I must retrieve, it is for memories. It is perhaps that I am an old soul, hanging on to the memories which made me what I am. Still, there is value in this sojourn.” Jackal smiled as he started walking toward the building. Shouji followed, if only because he knew what was soon to occur.

Opening the dusty doors, once again his head was filled with memories of the last time. When everything had been planned out, and if anything went wrong, many future events could not happen as they should. Such as, if she had not made her choices as she did. At that point, one of them was done, but the other, she was forced to make.


Ushering Alex into the church, she barred the doors, using her abilities to make it seem as if no one had been here in quite some time. Once this was done, she turned to him, asking for him to follow. As she walked past, he followed, right up to the altar.

Placing her hand on a small statuette, she pulled it. At first, this seemed to do nothing. Then the sound of scraping stone entered her ears, as a wooden panel at the front of the altar slid away, revealing a stone passageway. Picking up Alex, she quickly darted into this passage, hearing it close behind her. The steps were numerous, but she wasn't tired. Nervous, perhaps, but if she needed to go another few hours, she would. If only to make sure that he, if no one else, was spared for her crime.

Sitting on one of the tombs, she sighed. Of all the damned things, she had to resort to the very thing that had placed on high a group of bloody mages, who were put off by the fact that their beloved magic, had begun to fade from the world, and thus they found an alternate way to fuel their power, and stole far more than immortality. Perhaps, if this had been all that was done, it would be down to Caine's judgment, if he would care. But then, they go after one of the thirteen, slandering the entire clan in the process, branding them demon-worshipers and soul-stealers. In truth, she didn't hate them at all. But it was due to them, that she was forced to become Kindred, alongside her own wishes. In truth, she didn't care that she was a Vampire, oh no. She cared that the attack on the one of the last remaining houses of the Order of Hermes was attacked, which left her, a mortal woman, out in the woods to die. They didn't care for her blood, instead choosing to simply wound her, spilling it upon the earth. The rest may be luck, but somehow, she doubted that.

“Mum, why are we here?”

His question stabbed her, in every way but physically. Up until now, she only knew she would have to tell him, but now, there was no hiding it. Lying to him would be a mistake, and that would only cause several more problems, for them both. No matter what he was, he would need to be told, damn near everything, if he was to survive. He meant everything to her, and he would be the only thing she would have to lose, even if it might be that he would not lose her. She could not know what would happen, since much of what she had heard of Diablerie was speculation, along with some whispered tales of what had happened to Tremere, after he dealt with Saulot in that very way.

Explaining it to him, he took it in stride as always, even if he did seem to express some shock when she explained what she had done. He didn't seem to really consider it an issue, although she did not know why. Perhaps he could see further, and knew that it wouldn't be a problem for him, or her. Still, she would not allow it to be a problem for either of them. Telling him of Diablerie, he took it as simply one of the usual lessons, although when she mentioned a more, practical use, he once again had that same look of shock. Even more so when she removed her clothing.

“For what I have done, they will not stop. If they would kill both of us, is an outcome I will not allow. You must be strong, you must exist for the future, for reasons that perhaps both of us have seen – even if they may be false. I am sorry, Alex, but this must be done.”

He said nothing. He put his arms around her, and she laid herself down on the stone tomb. He crawled on top of her, laying his head on her chest. Nearly brought to tears by this, she sighed. “Up here. Drink from me, just as before.”

The feeling of him biting into her neck was not at all a surprise. It was a feeling she was used to, although she knew enough that, this would change. She could tell that he was hesitating, not really knowing the gravity of what he was doing. He he no issue with drinking blood, but she could tell that he was, in this instance, drinking it almost like it would be his last. He wasn't drinking it deeply, but slowly, taking the time to savor every gulp. In some ways, to her this was, maddening, much more than any thought or voice she'd ever heard. She had other kindred do the same to her in a fight, and the feelings aside, they could be fought off. However, in this case, she did not. She had her arms wrapped around Alex, as he was draining her to death.

Much of what she knew of this...aberration, was learned from the Order of Hermes, which she spent at least a few years with, the reason being unclear to them, and her. Even then, most of what they were able to tell her, save for the concrete and obvious facts about Vampires, this was a subject which they had little but speculation. That aside, they had little wish to know the facts, and at that point, she didn't want the truth either. She did admit to herself that she had certain, wishes, to be more than human, as her life had left her with very little, satisfaction. Starting with the fact that she gave up her chance at royalty by running away, and at that point, there wasn't much for her. There were options, certainly, but every single one of them, meant having deal with a hardship, which she wasn't willing to. Only one promised what she might want, even if it would kill many of her desires as a woman – those were the least of her concerns, for the time.

She felt her mouth open in a blood-curling scream. The sound of it was enough to drive her insane, and the pain that came with it, was hard to bare. Even with that, she could feel her blood being drained from her body, into the vessel which she had given her essence to, once before. This time, it would be all she had.

The feeling was...wrong. She could feel herself dying, although it wasn't how she expected. Alongside that, she seemed to feel new life. Almost like a presence in a new mind, in one which she never truly understood. Now, she was free to understand and...exist within the one she had yearned for, the one she gained by the sacrifice of blood, both her own human blood, to her embrace, and her Vampiric blood, to make the boy a Vampire. Now, things would be different. How, she couldn't possibly know. If it was death, then so be it. If it was not, then she would fight with him for survival – when none could hope to touch her.


Falling off the stone tomb, Alex felt his muscles screaming. His body made movements which he did not wish to, and overall, he could feel his blood rush. The nearly empty chalkboard that might be his mind, suddenly filled with marks, flowing with memories, knowledge, and many other things he couldn't begin to comprehend, at least, for the moment. Rising to his knees, he grabbed his forehead, arched his head back, and let out an animal-like snarl, the sound filling the room.

“” His voice speaking in a tone which even he would fear, he wondered why he said it. With only a few seconds of thought, he understood. It was more than simply one death this night. Both the mother and child had died, and out of this, comes another, born from them both.

Standing, he looked at the frozen corpse, splayed over the tomb. In seconds, it burst into embers, leaving only hints of ashes, some falling to the floor. As sad a sight as it might be, it wasn't entirely so. She had left behind a feeling, and perhaps, so much more than that.

Turning around, he faced the stairway. He could hear it already. The persistence, of those who wished to keep order among the damned. They were quicker than she had anticipated, but still, they lost their chance. Perhaps they believed there was still one to be had, but they would be proven wrong eventually. The sound of their voices gave insight into this, the only downside, being that they were at a loss as to where they would find the one they wanted.

“What better. A presentation of their failure, and my...change. Even so, things may work out differently, even if they will push for what they think, is inevitable.”

Walking forward, he ascended the steps, his fear, if any was present within him, went ignored. With the ideas that ran through his head, he could change things to what he wanted, which was the same thing that the screaming voice had always wanted. Not blood, this time, but survival.

Raising his hand, he smiled, watching his nails grow into sharp claws. Really nothing new, but they seemed sharper. Placing his palm against the stone door that was between him and the coterie of fools that sought a lost goal, he flexed his fingers, his claws digging into the stone. Using this to pull it aside, he simply pushed the wood panel that hid the stone, revealing himself.

“For what it seems, the corpses I stare at, seek something. It is unfortunate, but there is nothing of worth to be had here.”

One of them stepped forward. Short black hair framed her face, and her clothing was quite unlike that of the rest, a style of dress that Jackal was unfamiliar with. She seemed to carry herself a bit differently as well. Her stare was piercing, and her face was marked with a frown.

“You are the childe of Helena, aren't you? Where is she?”

With a smile, Jackal placed a finger on his forehead. Licking his lips, his grin stretched. “In here. With me.”

The woman's frown fell, her mouth nearly gaping open. She seemed to recoil as she understood. “You've...”

The man next to her almost had the same reaction. “You cannot suggest that his boy diablerized his own Sire. We all know how strong she was. The idea is impossible. How can you even suggest that, Hikari?”

With a sigh, Hikari rolled her eyes. “Look for yourself, Malk. Do you see any sign of life or unlife around, besides ourselves?”

The Malkavian looked around. He sighed, turning back to her. “Dammit. If he really did, then he is just as guilty as she was. He needs to be taken back to the city, straight to the Prince.”

Crossing her arms, she sighed again. “Perhaps, but he did deal with Helena, even if it might be that he didn't chose this fate for himself, or her. I can't say I am willing to let him go, but the facts are there. I do not intend to mask them when we return to the city. You might, but that is the reason I am here - you are the wrong kind of crazy, Castillo.”

“Fine then. Wait...” Castillo focused his stare on the boy. “MY GOD. He is telling the fucking truth!”

“You think I doubted that? I can see it just as you can, even if it may be different from the last example. I don't think any kindred wants to know all about diablere, even those who are low enough to do it. If he is low enough, I do not know, as at this point, I am unaware of his reasons.” She walked up to the boy, kneeling slightly.

“You stand as the light, holding a staff. Your blood runs blue, and your demeanor is just as cold. What do you wish of me, Primogen?”

Hikari couldn't help but looked shocked once again. “You know that much, do you? Well, it is unfortunate, but we have need to take you to the city. It may not be for a final sentence, but it may be just that.”

With a smile, Jackal nodded. “What I have done wrong, is nothing, in comparison to others. In time, they too will face their end, but I need not. If only because I have different aims. If you wish to place me before your Prince, then so be it. But there is no need for stakes, as I shall come willingly. I wish to see the moon.”


Placing his hand on the stone tomb, Jackal smiled. “A death, not truly for the crime committed, but for the salvation of the child, of whom, she gave everything. I stand upon the ashes of my rebirth, the place within which I truly began to understand. “

Removing his jacket, he placed it on a stone chair. Slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, he placed it with the jacket. Running his palms down his chest, his skin briefly filling the crevices of his sculpted chest, he sighed. “Do I regret this? Any of it? Certainly not. Every sacrifice, everything that was done, I do not have any wish to do so.”

He remembered the moment he entered the Prince's office, once they arrived in the city. It's location didn't surprise him, but the sight of the woman that his mind spoke of, the dead moon, said much more than any words could. Even with the knowledge that the Prince was intending on making her the next, he saw past that. Her drive, her emotion, her willingness to do anything to uphold her station. It isn't any surprise that they became friends, in rather short order.

The Prince, however, looked at him differently. Not once did he specifically cite Jackal as a criminal, he did seem to suggest that there was still a crime that had been committed, which seemed to take precedent over the real reason that kindred all over the city, and perhaps the state, searched for a pair of Vampires on the run. In finding only one, there was a truth to be had, and perhaps, it would not end as it usually did.

“You understand, that you admit freely to what this society views as a crime? Not only can we understand what you have done from your aura, you do not hide the truth from us, with your speech. Why?”

Jackal stared into this corpse's face. He seemed tired, not in body, but in his spirit. His eyes said that he had fought to uphold the office that he held, and perhaps, his control would falter, if not passed on to more, capable hands. “You ask me why, when the only other alternative would've been to face your judgment, which would, as I imagine, have been swift. This aside, you now wish to condemn me for a similar crime, even if you are drastically unsure of it.”

The Prince sighed. “You may be correct in that regard, and some may voice their concerns if I spare you, but they are liable to do that with almost anything I do. Still, what I would like to know, is what you might consider. May it be that perhaps you would accept the judgment given to so many others, or would you wish to make, of sorts?”

Jackal smiled. “I will gladly throw away the life I previously lived. You may not understand, but that night, two met their final deaths, even if this still left a kindred in it's wake. The name I used, I shall discard that for a new one. People may learn of the story, they may understand that I bore my fangs to the neck of my mother, and drew every bit of her essence, into my own body. They may speak, and I will listen. If I will act on their words, is another matter entirely.”
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