Category: Person

#Lore24 – Entry #298 – Sentinel City by Night #24 – The Kuei-jin Element

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Knew the three that got out of the limo were Kuei-jin the moment I saw them.  Was hard to hear what was being said from my hiding spot over the din of activity in the place but picked up a few words here and there.  Even though the trio looked young, the old man referred to them as something like “most esteemed elders” or something like that.  I ain’t so good at the language, especially this far away.

The first one looked like a teenager; could easily see her in a school uniform instead of that business suit she wore.  Thinking she was Japanese, shorter than the others, dark hair cut straight and neat to her shoulders, the glasses she wore giving her a scholarly look.  Couldn’t quite get what the old man was saying to her, but think her name was Koike.  The other two were twins, man and a woman, not quite identical, but close enough that they might pass for one another had she not been a fair bit curvier than him.  Think they were Chinese, got the name Teng, but that was about all I got, damn truck drove by loaded with scrap metal.

I thought awfully hard about getting closer, but the way the guy kept looking around as if he were on high alert told me to stay put.  I had no clue what kind of extra-sensory abilities these three might’ve possessed, and I didn’t want to find out if I could help it.  The old man, Mr. Wong I gathered, began relating details of the operation I think, escorting the three atop a catwalk, swept his arm over all that could be seen.  Might consider getting a parabolic microphone after this, not that it would be easy to sneak in when I pulled these stunts. 

Still, managed to get some more bits of the conversation here and there, heard some very familiar words being spoken by the Japanese girl:  Cainite, Tzimisce, Sabbat.  Heard her say something about continuing the shipments, about letting them have their fun while it lasted I think, that whatever was going on wouldn’t affect their goals.  Think she might’ve mentioned something else about a Sabbat leader, but I couldn’t get any more cause they’d moved out of range.  The fact that the male twin’s gaze lingered in my direction a few seconds longer before he followed the others gave me plenty of reasons to not try and get closer.

Waited until they were out of sight before I made my exit.  Wasn’t real sure exactly where I needed to go, but going up seemed the best choice.  Wound up coming into the basement of a fancy Korean restaurant.  No Kuei-jin in sight, I slipped out unnoticed by the staff; saw a couple of familiar faces, two of the guys Mr. Wong had spoken to before the elders had showed up, yelling out orders in their native language. Figured this must have been his place. 

Got my bearings once I was outside, got on the first bus I found, left a trail as hard to follow as I could manage.  Don’t think I was followed but couldn’t be too sure.  Was nearly dawn by the time I got back to my apartment, so I’d have to leave my analysis of what I might’ve learned till tomorrow night.”

#Lore24 – Entry #297 – Sentinel City by Night #23 – Down, Down to Chinatown

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“I admittedly had little in the way of knowledge about the Kuei-jin, having only met a handful very briefly and under peaceful, if tense, circumstances back in San Diego.  No doubt they schemed just as much as the Kindred tended to, though I could not begin to fathom their machinations in Sentinel City.  Hell, I didn’t even know what they were up to out west.  Playing a long game, maybe, or operating on some completely different kind of level completely.  Whatever the case, I wasn’t sure if the people they had running the chemicals through the city were ghouls or not, or if they even had ghouls.  Their auras didn’t read like ghouls, just regular humans, but I wasn’t entirely sure if my perceptions would even pick them up.

I was a little nervous going into Chinatown, especially when it was stowed away in the back of one of their delivery trucks.  Still, fortune favors the bold, so they say.  The guys in the truck chatted back and forth in Korean; since I’d started my surveillance, I’d picked up on that, Japanese, and several dialects of Chinese, and a few other languages I didn’t recognize.  Not that I’m particularly fluent in any of the others.  Probably something I should remedy one of these nights.

The truck came to a warehouse in short order now that it was empty, and I slipped out once it had come to a stop.  Didn’t see anything special at first, just a whole lot of stuff sitting around to be moved but didn’t take me long to discover a much bigger operation underground.  Saw several forklifts moving product out of a tunnel, so I decided to make my way down it.  Hadn’t spotted any cameras yet but kept my aura perception active in case I came across something supernatural. 

I had to admit, I was impressed with the operation they had going.  They had their own manufacturing operations going, must have been hundreds of people in this facility, making not only the chemicals, but their own drugs.  Looked like some smuggling operations too, given the huge shipping containers down there.  Spotted some larger tunnels with some rails going through them, maybe old subway tunnels that had been rebuilt and repurposed, likely leading all the way to the docks.  Had to hand it to them, they had one impressive setup going.  How it all operated with the number of languages and cultures I could pick out was probably the biggest mystery I’d ever encountered.  Did the Nosferatu know about all this?  If so, had they mentioned it to Sokolova?  How couldn’t they know?  More layers to the onion I needed to peel; would the core be rotten?

I slipped through the shadows on the edges of the operation for a good while, not exactly sure what I was looking for, but finally spotted something that seemed important.  Saw an old man, hunched with age, the classic wizened elder look about it, one eye in a permanent squint, yelling orders to a half dozen young men, who quickly scurried off to see them carried out.  Next thing I knew, a limo drove through one of the larger tunnels, coming to a stop near the old man.  He bowed low as the doors opened, and I got my first look at the Kuei-jin of Sentinel City.”

#Lore24 – Entry #296 – Sentinel City by Night #22 – A Disturbing Trail

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“The direct approach hadn’t worked, so I had to resort to the not-so-direct approach.  Course, that was after I got myself back in proper working order.  Had to go dark for a few days.  The following night, once I’d dragged myself out of the sewers, only marginally improved, I found my car, remarkably still intact and undisturbed.  Guess the fact that it’s nearing thirty years old helps, and the “old rust bucket” camo is working as intended. 

Thought about visiting Ausar’s church but decided against it.  If I got antsy just being around her, don’t think I was quite ready to see her work a healing miracle on me, as much as I might’ve wanted it.  Instead, I got myself cleaned up, went out for a proper meal, then holed up in my apartment for a few nights, no outside contact, just me, myself, and I and a lot of pushing things back into place.

Got word to Sokolova about what happened, that I was still kicking, about what I’ve been hunting down.  Said she’d get Jacobs and his hounds in on the action, try to track down the ghouls, and whoever the Lasombra was that had pulled the trick with the shadows.  Told her to ask Ramos; had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly who it was.

Still, I wasn’t put off the case, just had to switch tactics.  Was a little pissed off, maybe, and of course I wanted payback, however that came about.  So, I started digging into sources for the various drugs and chemicals that were used in making the Vamp-Out, started putting feelers out for where the local brewers got their supplies, if they knew about any new big shipments, that kind of thing.

Took a few more nights of work but started to piece together some supply chains.  Need to ask Sokolova for some extra expense money; paying off all these informants is getting expensive.  Still, looks like there are four groups handling deliveries of the various products used to create the drugs, running the shipping through local intercity carriers, delivering them to several locations outside the area where they’ve setup their manufacturing, where I’d ran into those ghouls, before they’re picked up by some good ol’ boys from down south to be delivered to the brewery.  Notably, all the deliveries were handled by companies based in Chinatown.

Got word to Blumenthal about trying to get some IDs using the photos I’d snapped at a good distance.  The name “Johnson” had come up a few times thus far, figured it was their family name given the resemblance between them. 

While he worked on that, though, I decided that it was time to track these chemical deliveries to the source, and that meant a trip to Chinatown.  Reckon I could be stepping on a whole other set of toes here if I’m not real careful.  Rumors abound that the Triads and Yakuza groups are operating out of that part of town, to say nothing of our eastern counterparts, the Kuei-jin.  Been a few Kindred who have gone missing in that part of town, and SCPD aren’t known to be too welcome there either. 

Should be an interesting trip.”

#Lore24 – Entry #295 – Sentinel City by Night #21 – Ghouls of War

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“What’s that old saying?  When you’re getting flak, you know you’re over the target? 

Took me a few more nights, but I got myself a lead on someone selling Vamp-Out.  Wasn’t one of the regular dealers I’d been hitting up, though, was someone new in town, just opened up shop after they took down one of the other pushers.  Don’t usually pay too much attention to gang wars and fights between dope dealers, but this one piqued my interests.  Came onto the scene out of nowhere, established himself practically overnight, and had muscle to enforce his will.  Word was starting to spread that the “Pillbilly” was in town and would soon open for business, the new hotness from down South. 

Word was that he was taking up shop in an old brewery somewhere on the southeast side of the city, run down slum area, known gang territory.  Must’ve been pretty bold to come in and casually wipe out a gang and not fear the blowback. 

Should’ve known something was up when I kept getting that feeling that I was being watched as I headed out to track down exactly where this guy was setting up shop.  Those usually didn’t start till much later in the night, after I’d snooped around the really bad parts of town for a while.  Kinda got used to them lately, was starting to think it was just me.  Mistake on my part.

I’d parked a good way off, hit the alleys and side streets to get a feel for the area.  Seemed like another gang-infested slum in the bad part of town, but there was definitely something in the air here.  Didn’t feel quite right, was too much tension, not enough people out and about; seemed almost like the gangbangers had taken the night off or had better things to do.  Should’ve trusted my gut and cleared out, but I kept pushing deeper, looking for that brewery.

I was getting close to an old industrial area when the lights went out.  Literally.  Shadows surged all around me, poured out of every nook and cranny like crude oil from burst barrels.  Before I could begin to get a grasp on what was going on, two huge forms came at me from both ends of the alley.  Must’ve been seven feet tall, muscles for days, mess of bone spikes coming out of all angles.  Tzimisce war ghouls. 

At least I knew I was onto something to rate so highly as to call the big boys in.  Of course, my little revolver seemed awfully puny all of a sudden.  Realizing that my future unlife may we be measured in seconds rather than centuries, I somehow managed not to panic.  Calling on my heightened senses, I only somewhat managed to penetrate the shadows that surrounded me, enough to give me a vague idea of the buildings that were hidden by them. 

It was enough.  I dove into the cold, thick blackness, somehow managed to push through them and dove through a window.  If anything gets a girl’s blood pumping, it’s the roar of a pair of monstrous ghouls chasing her.  The shadows continued to shift and chase me, but I managed to navigate through them in the partially burnt out and collapsed building I’d found myself in.  The ground shook as the ghouls came after me, ripping though the brick walls like they were nothing. 

Something big flew past my head, crashed into the darkness ahead of me; it was a chunk of the outer wall, damn near took my head off.  I stumbled through some rubble, tumbled down over a pile of old bricks and hit the ground running, desperate to find a manhole.  If I could get to the sewers, I might have a chance.

Next moment I was flying wild, something massive slamming into my back.  Vision went all starry, body was screaming in agony.  Came crashing through the building opposite the old warehouse.  Right and both legs weren’t supposed to bend that way; pretty sure my spine wasn’t either. 

Then the two ghouls were on me, the first one snatching me up in its huge, misshaped claws, threatening to crush the life out of me.  More bones snapped.  Feeling a growing fear inside me, through the pain, some neurons fired.  I had a chance, if only it worked.  I began to speak through the pain, calling on my clan’s blood, of the madness that ran through all of us. 

Not sure what I said.  Not real sure what happened after that if I’m being honest.  Got a vague memory of that fear inside me amplifying itself, spreading from my voice and into the ghouls.  Blind terror took over all of us then.  Think the one crushing me threw me away like it was afraid I might explode, think I might’ve crashed through another wall.

Can’t remember much else.  Just know that when I came back to my senses, I was crawling through sewage, somehow having pieced back enough of myself to actually move, though I still couldn’t walk, couldn’t feel my legs, in fact.  Wasn’t sure even what part of town I was even in.  Was starving, too.  Usually try not to feed on rats, but sometimes you don’t have much choice; couldn’t risk losing myself further down in the dark.  Managed to heal up enough to get feeling back into my legs, could walk.  Sort of.  Every step was agony, spine was bent at an odd angle, arms weren’t much better.  At least it got me somewhere mostly safe, old monitoring station, maybe part of the old subway system, not used for ages.  Had a door I managed to block with some old shelving, seemed secure enough for now. 

Had to rest, had to try to heal up with dawn coming fast.”

#Lore24 – Entry #294 – Sentinel City by Night #20 – Matters of Faith

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Been to several strange places all over Sentinel City, but Light’s Hope Chapel was the strangest one yet.  Hadn’t planned on stopping in, no reason to really, just happened to be in the neighborhood.  I’d continued my work, had a couple more instances where I picked up on someone following me, but never could pin them down.  Think they know that I know for sure now, so they’re being a lot more subtle about it.  Got word to Grim Jacobs via Sokolova but hadn’t heard from him or his Hounds yet.

Was on my way back from trolling for a source on the drug when I happened upon the church.  Parking lot had to have been half full, odd for this time of night, so I figured what the hell, I’d bite the bullet and stop in and see what this preacher was all about. 

Can’t say I was prepared for what I experienced when I walked into the chapel.  Heard her preaching about the works of the “Great One”, of the power found within its “pure and holy light” and the like.  The crowd was enthralled by her, don’t know if she was using one of our vampiric tricks or if she was just that damn good at preaching.  Still, noticed she wasn’t referencing God or Jesus during that sermon.

Tried to get a good look at Ausar.  Could tell she was dressed like a nun but had trouble keeping my eyes on her.  Hadn’t felt this kind of sensation…ever.  My skin tingled as I hit the rear pews, not painfully so, but I couldn’t keep from squirming, kinda like that feeling I got that time back in San Diego when I was nearly caught outdoors on a late night and felt the dawn creeping up on me.  Had to avert my eyes when she picked up her cross and brandished it over the crowd, the candlelight glinting off the gold just too intense for me.  I wasn’t even using my heightened senses.  Then I got the bright idea to read her aura.

Was damn near blinded by the light radiating off her, pure, golden…holy.  I’d never seen that before, had to quickly shut that off and rub my eyes, but still couldn’t get the after images to clear for a good while.  I’d never come across this before, but I knew instinctively what it was.  True faith. It might not have been in the god that cursed us Kindred, but whatever it was, Ausar had the utmost unshakeable belief in it, and I’d wager her flock believed in it just as much as she did. 

And here I thought I got hyper-obsessed with my work sometimes…

That was probably the most uncomfortable twenty minutes of my unlife; just kept waiting for my skin to burst into flames under the power of ‘the Light’, and though I’d thought to leave, I couldn’t make myself get up.  Fact that I’m writing this means I made it out, of course, and not even a sunburn to show for it.

Ausar’s intensity faded once she’d wrapped up her sermon, thankfully.  I kept my distance while she mingled with her flock, but eventually, once they had started to file out, she came up to me.  She seemed every bit the true believer she presented herself as, a fervor in her that I’d almost call a mania, barely contained.  Still had trouble keeping eye contact with her, kept feeling like I was transgressing or something.  Damn strange sensation.  She apologized for it, though, said those like me with increased senses often struggled around her at first.  Won’t go into too much detail about what we discussed; I’ve never been the type to be especially religious, but a little food for thought never hurt anyone. 

Wasted damn near the whole night chatting with her, though; tried to wiggle out of it, but something about her kept drawing me back in.  Definitely counting this one amongst the strangest nights in my life…so far, anyway.  Who knows what tomorrow may bring?  By the end of it, she’d extended an invitation for me to share her haven if I didn’t wish to go home, an offer I respectfully declined, but likewise advised me to keep her in mind should I require guidance in spiritual matters and even if I should find myself in need of healing.  Not so sure I wanted to be touched by those hands of hers or not given that her presence alone was enough to make my skin crawl. 

Ankara Ausar is something else.  That’s all I can really say.  Don’t know if that’s holy fervor and her faith guiding her or some kind of madness.  Maybe both.  She is a fellow Malkavian, after all.  We’re all known to have our moments of lunacy, just have to wonder if she’s living in hers all the damn time or if I caught her on a lucid night.”

#Lore24 – Entry #292 – Sentinel City by Night #18 – Humane Treatment

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Well, think Sokolova’s anger has finally been cooled.  When the news came out about Emmerson’s mental break, complete with multiple videos of her attacking people at the steakhouse while raving like a madwoman, it didn’t take much of a push from Sokolova for the media to distance themselves from her.  Her own paper issued retractions and apologies for running her stories, the editor-in-chief who had approved them even stepped down.  I’d scrubbed everything I could from Emmerson’s home and office systems, made the trail as hard to follow as I could, but kept what I needed to try and locate her source.  Couldn’t find any information about who had clued her in on the backdoor, though.

An eventful few days for sure. 

Reckon they’d taken Emmerson to the Edgewater Mental Hospital.  Called up Misha Kyle, got her to set me up with a meeting with Jennifer Tempest regarding Emmerson.  Not real sure why.  Maybe I’m feeling guilty?  Maybe I just wanted to be sure?  I don’t know.  Whatever the reason, I just felt the need to follow up on the matter.  Clear my mind of lingering doubts, maybe. 

Tempest was pretty much what I’d expected at first, a no-nonsense type, real strict on keeping her facility in order.  She was agreeable to me seeing Emmerson, but not face to face.  Fine.  We talked little as she lead me through her facility; was certainly more modern than the hospitals I’d visited around San Diego, but had that run-down feel that came with a certain amount of age, use, and lack of funding.  Emmerson was safely tucked away in the maximum-security area on the top floor, in a drug-induced stupor, sitting in the corner of a padded cell, straitjacket and other restraints secure; they’d even had to gag her to keep her from biting off her own tongue. 

After I’d had my look, I turned to see Tempest glaring at me.  She’d wanted to know if I felt good about what I’d done to Emmerson.  Couldn’t say I’d felt good about it, but I didn’t feel bad, either.  Some things just had to be done, especially when she was endangering the entire Sentinel City Kindred community.  Don’t know why exactly, but I decided to explain to her what I’d originally intended to do, but things had gone sideways. 

I’d sensed something in the air then, that sixth sense I’d developed regarding the supernatural, and took a look at Tempest’s aura, saw a swirling mess of randomness I couldn’t focus on.  Knew what that meant.  Needless to say, she wasn’t from around here, was from somewhere I would never have expected.  I’d only ever seen one or two of her kind before.  Demon. Fallen.  Whatever they called themselves.  We stared at one another long enough for it to get uncomfortable.  She broke the silence, said that now that we understood each other, she’d see to it that Emmerson recovered, however long it took, and though she didn’t care for the method I’d used, at least I’d given the woman a chance to redeem herself, hadn’t killed her outright like many of my kind would have done. 

As she walked me out of the psych ward, she told me to visit the Light’s Hope Chapel and see the preacher if I was feeling particularly guilty about my choices in life or unlife.  Said it would be an enlightening experience, attending one of the preacher’s sermons, even if her faith might not have been in exactly the right place.  Said it might do me some good to unburden myself of my sins.  Wasn’t sure what that meant; wasn’t particularly bothered by then if I’m being honest, well,  mostly.  I was already damned, so what would it matter, anyway? 

Still, can’t say she hadn’t piqued my curiosity about this mysterious preacher, Ankara Ausar.  Reckon she was of my clan too, was close to Sokolova, even had her own mortal following.  Maybe I should look into visiting her before long, see what she was all about. 

Later, though.  Had to follow up with Blumenthal about this drug; reckon he’s gotten the results back from the lab.”

#Lore24 – Entry #291 – Sentinel City by Night #17 – Dealing with Delia

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Try to get a day’s sleep, and all hell comes crashing down around you.  I was stirred out of my slumber by several message alerts on my phone; it was barely after sunset.  Forcing the remnants of my slumber away, I looked at the messages, the first from Becky with a link to Delia’s latest article, and several from Sokolova demanding I contact her immediately.  Shit.

I checked my computer first, saw no further copies of Delia’s messages, my connection to her system still offline, so not an equipment problem.  Then I checked the article, and could my blood run colder, it would have.  “Shadow Government Controls Sentinel City!  Vampire Cult in the Lead!” the headline proclaimed.  She’d been busy since her last big piece, or someone else had fed her quite the healthy dose of intel.  The article started off talking about the murder at the Paragon, then spun some yarn about it being an escalation after Dollface had been taken down by the rest of the cult, targeting someone in retaliation.  Seemed a stretch.  Photos were something else, though, taken from far above; had she been in the ductwork?  She even caught me when I had been examining the scene with Walsh and Blumenthal. 

The really damning stuff came after, when she tied it into Sokolova’s operations.  Emmerson didn’t name names, not yet, but had started painting a picture of something akin to an organized crime operation, infiltrating the upper levels of city government, guided by the hand of the vampire cult’s leaders.  She proclaimed my involvement with the police to cover up evidence, mentioned how all it took was one word from a powerful member of this shadow government to get a SWAT team called on the killer after they had stepped on their toes while the police had done nothing to stop the killer beforehand, how some of the most powerful positions in the city were part of the cult.  She had photos of Sokolova’s building, the Light’s Hope Chapel, and Kyou’s arthouse, with promises to reveal more in her next article, to expose the corruption.

Fuck.

My phone rang.  It was Sokolova.  Beginning to think she had my place bugged, was watching me with how good she was at her timing.  Took my licks like a good soldier.  Her tongue may as well been a whip with how she lashed me with it.  Whatever I had planned tonight was on hold.  Emmerson had to be dealt with, and it had to be me that did it.  I had until sunrise. 

My brain was already working on how to repair the damage, but that all hinged on getting Emmerson out of the picture first.  I had my false sources still in play, perhaps; likely whoever had revealed I’d hacked her system had exposed those, too.  How had they known, though?  Another hacker?  Becky?  Someone else just as good?  No, gotta focus on the main job first.

I threw some messages out through my false sources, trying to get her attention.  Also added another six random emails to the mix, but one of the new ones had some juicy bits tied to it.  My neck was already on the chopping block; might as well go all in.  Named myself in that one, told her I was working for the head of the ‘cult’ and that I was actually related by blood to the Dollface killer; not a lie, that.  Gave her a few more details that should entice her into a meeting.  Gave her a time limit, too; if I didn’t have an answer from her by midnight, I was gone with all my information. 

Took about an hour, but she responded to that one.  We sent some messages back and forth, I gave her a few more details to sweeten the pot, told her I had a whole dossier ready to hand over that would give her all the juicy bits.  She was playing it more cautiously, so she must’ve had some inkling of what it was she was getting involved in.  I suggested a dead drop in a public place; I wouldn’t reveal myself but would stick around to make sure she picked up the package before I left town, otherwise I’d take it with me.  She agreed; I’d make it work; sent her the details and a time. 

Picked a place that was public, but not too public for my needs.  All I had to do was meet her eyes.  Picked a steakhouse down by one of the shopping malls, plenty of people around to dissuade any foul play.  Got the package ready, just a bunch of old junk articles and notes I had stuffed here and there from twenty years back, some random bad photos that hadn’t turned out, that kind of thing.  Nothing anyone could get anything out of.  I got there on the double, dropped it behind one of the toilets in the women’s restroom after I’d slipped inside.  Set myself up near the back and waited.

She was there on time, looked a little paranoid.  Probably would have made a good ally if she hadn’t stepped on the wrong side of the line.  Watched her pass by my hiding place near the restrooms; she passed within a couple feet of me and never had a clue.  She went inside, I followed.  I let her pick up the package, then when she turned I was there.  Her eyes widened.  I tapped into that swirling madness that we Malkavians loved so much, and I dumped all I could into her poor mortal brain, stoked the embers of what was already hiding in her subconscious. 

Then I was gone.

Delia started screaming before I slipped out the back.  Would make for one hell of a story:  “Up and Coming Reporter Goes Crazy in Family Steakhouse!”.  My next stop was her apartment to scrub her records and add to the story, mess her place up to match the lunatic behavior she had just started to experience.  Would probably need to visit her office as well, make sure she didn’t have anything left behind there.  Would fill Sokolova in on the details when I was done, let her handle how the story would develop from the foundations I’d set up; she seemed the type to have friendly media on hand.”

#Lore24 – Entry #290 – Sentinel City by Night #16 – Knocking on the Chantry Door

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Wound up taking three nights, but I was finally allowed a visit to the Tremere chantry.  By then, the aura in the vial had faded somewhat, but it was still visible, so maybe it wasn’t too late to glean something useful from them.  Their place was very much what I’d expected it to be, fancy gothic-style manor in the neighborhood reserved for the rich, old-money types, surrounded by a big fence and plenty of magical auras I wasn’t even about to try and decipher.  Just passing through the gates was enough to make my skin crawl.  Fun fact: after I’d announced myself on their intercom, the gates opened on their own, but not with any kind of mechanical device. 

Of course, I didn’t get a full tour of the place.  Once I was inside the front entryway, got to see the grand stairway leading to the upper levels, and several closed doors lining the entry hall; shadows were deep here, deeper than even my heightened perceptions could penetrate, even though there were plenty of candles glowing with arcane, purple flames to light the way.  A moment later, one of the side doors opened, and a teenager wearing all black, a t-shirt and jeans, combat boots, and a smattering of your typical goth girl accessories, ushered me toward her.  Sitting room was fancy, fireplace was glowing with what looked like a normal fire even if there wasn’t any heat coming off it, though the room was pleasantly warm regardless. 

Another Tremere waited for me, this one dressed like some kind of cowgirl, could have just stepped out of the old West at that moment and I probably would’ve believed it.  She introduced herself in what sounded like another Texas drawl as Abigail Dawson, and her companion as her apprentice, Elizabeth Powell.  At least they were being courteous for all their secrecy, so I introduced myself in kind.  Knowing they weren’t likely interested in chitchat, I got right down to business, gave them quick rundown of the situation and passed them the vial.

Though they hid it well, I could tell they were intrigued.  They excused themselves to the connecting room, told me to make myself comfortable but not to wander.  Could’ve at least left me a magazine or something else to read.  Took about an hour before they came back, about half the contents of the vial missing, the magical aura gone.  Both of them had a look on their faces like they’d just discovered dog shit on their shoes after they’d already tracked it through the house.

The sorcery in the vial stank of the Tzimisce, they said, likely a modification of a type of blood ritual they often used to frenzy their ghouls when they went to war.  The rest they said was a mixture of various mundane chemicals and ingredients, common in street drugs, the exact nature they’d leave to me now that the sorcery had been removed.  My first instinct was that my suspicions of Misha Kyle were correct all along, but Abigail said it was unlikely; their people were keeping a close eye on Kyle and had not noted any strange behavior out of her.

Elizabeth then told me that our time was up, and the rest of the mess was mine to sort out, but if more sorcery was discovered, to let them know.  Then a curious thing happened; the two shared a look, Abigail nodded at her childe, and then the apprentice told me that shadows loomed around Sentinel City, so the head of the chantry had divined, and trouble was coming.  Couldn’t get more specifics out of them, guess they’d loose their mysterious reputation if they made it that easy.  Either way, thanked them for their time and left the chantry on the quick, my mind working on the situation as I drove toward Blumenthal’s precinct.  Dropped off the remnants of the vial, let him know that I had a vague lead, but would need more time to track it down.  Told him it was probably some kind of new street drug from what I’d been told, and to get the word out to his people to be on the lookout for more of it, and that I’d be in touch.  Said he’d let me know what the lab techs found out about it.

Got an unwelcome surprise when I got back to my apartment.  My backdoor to Emmerson’s computer had been removed, and I was no longer getting copies of her communications.  Could’ve been an equipment failure, maybe, but my gut told me otherwise.  Someone had found me out.”

#Lore24 – Entry #288 – Sentinel City by Night #14 – Meeting in Elysium

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Few nights later, I finally took Kyou’s offer to meet him in person.  Didn’t know he was a he till I’d met him, not that I could really tell much of a difference even then; looked and sounded just as feminine as any woman.  Don’t usually feel attracted to most people but think I might’ve felt something stirring when I finally met him.  Must have been that Toreador thing they do. 

Turns out, he’s the Elysium keeper in Sentinel City, and a rather famous, if elusive, fetish artist who does a good amount of work with “classy” kink photos and videos, most of it involving living people in various themed shoots and whatever other strangeness that kind of thing entails.  The kink scene isn’t my thing.  Outfits might be sexy sometimes, but I’ve got other things to do with my nights.

When I showed up at the arthouse that was one of the Elysium locations in town, he was in the midst of preparations for a big party.  Must have been a couple dozen humans and ghouls around, all of them in various kinky outfits and states of restraint, forming different living scenes.  Apparently, this was just the practice session before the big thing.  Modern art.  Pfft.

Kyou was very thankful that I’d helped in finding Kinzie, who was surprisingly absent, but Kyou assured me he was “quite secure” and nearby.  Didn’t ask anything else on the matter.  Still, even with my lack of interest in the things going on around me, I found it hard not to enjoy Kyou’s company.  He had a way of being absolutely charming, seemed to know exactly how to make you feel like it was something special just to be around him.  We chatted for a while, shared a little of his “special” vintage wine.  He owed me a huge favor he said.  Never a bad thing to have in this kind of society.  He invited me to his big event, but I didn’t commit to anything; might be good to network a little, but I’ve never been one for social gatherings.

I had more work to do, anyway, so I couldn’t spend too much time with him.  Car was finally in the shop, so I was on foot or relying on public transport for a few nights.  Figured I would be looking in on Emmerson more tonight.  Think our unexpectedly quick capture of Dollface threw a wrench into the narrative she’d been crafting.  Her latest article covering the takedown sounded almost spiteful, hinted at there being a larger cult at work, to expect more killings in the same manner; I’d seen where she’d originally wanted to go with her tale, and was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen.  Her mystery source had continued feeding her information about the Kindred, however, and she was shifting her focus.  The fake information I’d been feeding her had muddied the waters, so she wasn’t entirely sure who to believe now. 

That source was proving elusive.  I couldn’t verify any real details about whoever it was; what information I could pull from the email headers was different each time, no doubt using a VPN and other methods to hide their locations.  Couldn’t exactly subpoena the email provider’s records, either, given the sensitivity of the information they were peddling.

I’ll just have to keep an eye on the situation and work it as things develop.  Maybe I can convince Emmerson to cut ties with the source and drop her whole investigation.  Could be pretty simple if I’d ever managed to learn how to control minds, but that just wasn’t in my blood.  Still, got an option to use on her if it comes to it; don’t usually rely on that, but if she pushes things too far, well…”

#Lore24 – Entry #287 – Sentinel City by Night #13 – Rapid Response

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Thankfully whatever noise I might’ve made once I was inside the warehouse was covered by the girl’s screams.  For me, not for her.  I was moving fast, but as long as the screams and whimpers and pleading kept coming, that meant I didn’t have to worry about the killer noticing me.  Spotted the van we’d seen on the security footage, doors were still open; guess the killer had been too anxious to get to her work.  Took a minute to pop the hood, pulled the wires off the battery; if she tried to run, she’d have to work for it.

Started my way upstairs toward the torture room.  I tried to hurry without moving too fast; delicate thing.  Just to be sure, I double-checked that I’d silence my phone.  Would’ve been pretty embarrassing to be caught by something like that.  Didn’t take me long to get where I needed to go, smell of blood was getting thicker.  Door wasn’t locked, but I eased it open slow, after I’d hit the hinges with some spray lube I kept in my coat pocket for just these kinds of occasions. 

If this lady wasn’t a Malk, she could’ve definitely passed for one of our nuttier brethren.  First thing I saw when I peered in was the trophy rack; saw all the peeled faces of the previous victims staring at me from across the room.  Crazy bitch hadn’t just preserved their heads, but had gone full on Leatherface, made masks out of them.  Guess she’d used the additional flesh she’d taken as extra material.  She wore the Sidney Clark mask now as she paced slowly around Carly Greer, who was secured to a tilted surgical table, scalpel in each hand, making slow, deliberate cuts, seeming to pause to savor the sounds the poor girl made, then to lap at the blood that was coming out of her. 

The name “Dollface” popped into my brain at that moment.  Strange what comes to mind in situations like these.

Kinzie wasn’t far off, on his knees with his wrists and ankles chained behind a support beam, big gag ball in his mouth as he watched with a look of absolute horror on his face.  I would’ve thought him another young woman if I hadn’t known what he looked like before hand from his master’s description. 

Thought for a second there about playing hero, but I didn’t know what this vamp was capable of.  For all I knew, she was as dangerous as one of those Brujah you always hear about that can tear up a whole city block with one hand tied behind their backs.  I eased the door open a little wider, carefully, took a quick gander around the room.  Wasn’t huge, might’ve been the offices back when this place was open for business.  Some side rooms, couldn’t see much about those from here; pretty sure there was another set up stairs leading down on the other side somewhere, though, possible escape route.  Windows were blacked out or boarded up, aside from two that were raised to let in some air and what little moonlight there was, right behind Dollface’s torture rack.

Figured that SWAT team might stand a better chance than me if they could get the drop on her.  Dollface wasn’t going to kill the girl just yet anyway; sucks for her, but not a chance I could risk taking.  I skulked back and eased the door shut, then got off the upper level before I started hammering at my phone, sending what I’d seen to Walsh.  Time like this, maybe having a smart phone would have been better, or maybe if I knew how some Kindred moved so damn fast.  Still, managed to spit out what I had to tell him eventually.  SWAT was already inbound and he was talking to them.  Said one of my kind was with them, and to just stay out of their way.

By the time I got outside, I saw the SWAT van pulling up down the way, outside the fence where Walsh had parked.  Didn’t look like a standard SWAT unit to me, not enough of them, only seven of them, but I could tell they were dangerous.  Hit them with my aura sight as I approached.  One vampire, the one with the big rifle, and the rest were ghouls.  They covered the rest of the ground on foot after a quick word with Walsh, the sniper breaking off to the adjacent building, the others breaking up into two squads of three as they entered the warehouse. 

From the screams, Dollface hadn’t realized they were there yet.

Guessed these guys were military-trained by the way they handled themselves.  I asked Walsh about them while we waited, made him nearly jump out of his skin when I revealed myself.  Bad habit, I know.  Least I didn’t get shot for it.  Said he didn’t know much about them aside from all of them were veterans, though he wasn’t sure about the sniper.  Conway was her name, said she came in with Sokolova’s people, started hanging out with the SWAT team after the mayor and police chief worked out whatever “fucked up arrangement led to me working with you.”

Didn’t take long.  Couldn’t have been five minutes since I’d passed the SWAT team before that big rifle let loose.  One shot.  Some shouts from inside, then silence.  These guys were very good.  All clear came in over Walsh’s radio a minute later; they’d taken Dollface intact, victims secure.  EMTs were there in a flash, taking care of Carly and Kinzie, and were gone just as quick. 

SWAT bagged up Dollface to go, had her staked out, one gnarly head wound marring the Sidney mask.  Conway met up with them, finally got a look at her without her helmet and mask.  Pale, platinum hair cut short, had an intensity about her, the kind that comes with a lot of combat.  Shared a smoke with her men, figured they were her ghouls by how comfortable they were around her.  We didn’t speak much, but she said she’d be in contact with Sokolova shortly with a full report, and that she’d let Kyou know his ghoul was safe.  Said I did good for my first job, glad to see that I was a team player. 

I stuck around long enough to gather what other details I could for the sake of completing my case notes, but since I wasn’t there in any official capacity, I made myself scarce.  I let Walsh and his team handle cleaning up the scene and left any glory that might come from it to them.  I worked better in the shadows, after all.  For a wonder Emmerson didn’t show up on the scene till I was already on my way out, along with the rest of the media types.  Guess even her sources weren’t able to keep up with how quickly we’d moved tonight.  Would definitely be looking into that before long.”