World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - Making Enemies

[z-Amber Wren]

Halloween 2008, 9:00 P.M.

Jenna slid her hands over the coffin lid as Sparks watched, her face twisted with conflicting emotions. She still looked like the lovely high school girl she had been six years ago, but she had changed. Gone were the short skirts; instead, she dressed to look older, like a college student just turning into a professional. Theodore's influence over her was becoming apparent.

"I can't believe it's time," she sighed, her dark eyes meeting his. "It doesn't seem like six years."

"Time flies when all you got is night," Sparks said. It was one of his favorite philosophical thoughts - gaining eternity but having it limited by the loss of half the day. It was a reminder that Kindred weren't as powerful as they sometimes believed themselves to be.

Jenna smiled, but it was a cool, distant smile. Sparks suspected that she was thinking about the task ahead, rather than what he had said. He was okay with that. She would either find her truth or suffer for it.

The door opened and Theodore, Marion and Smoke entered. Sparks nodded to his clan- and gang-brother, Smoke, and got a nod in return. When the other two fanned out to stand before the coffin, Smoke ambled over to him. After a moment, Sparks felt Smoke touch his mind. This is a bad idea, dawg.

Sparks hadn't mastered Telepathy yet, so he merely nodded. It was a bad idea, but Theo was adamant; Dylan had served his time and would be released. Sparks loved that about Theo, but hated it, too. The Prefect of Los Angelos was a just man, and he wouldn't waver, no matter what problem it would create. And in this case, it would create a hell of a problem. Dylan had been a loose cannon before being torpored. Sparks didn't want to see how bad the Daeva was going to be now.

But he was going to see it, first hand. Marion set the pry bar between the lid and the sides and drove it in with a sharp tang of the hammer. She repeated that around the coffin, loosening the lid. Dirt jumped off the lid with each impact, clattering to the floor in a noisy rain.

Smoke and Sparks moved silently to the coffin, picking up the lid and setting it aside.

Dylan lay still and lifeless, his eyes bulging, his hands locked in claws around the stake in his chest. Sparks reflexsively checked the stake, making sure that the duct tape that he'd secured it with was still holding. The tape was losing stickiness, and Sparks quickly stripped it off. He started to replace it, but Theo stopped him.

"Let 'em go," Theodore said in his soft Virginian drawl. As Sparks began to unwind the tape, the tall Ventrue slipped his hands casually in his pocket and watched. "His time is up."

Jenna reached out and pulled out the stake. She stepped back as Marion stepped forward. If the Nos's aura discomforted Jenna, she didn't show it as her eyes locked on Dylan. Marion slit her wrists and fed blood to Dylan; she was the only one potent enough to wake him.

Dylan was still for another moment; then he came awake with a scream. His blue eyes were wide as he tried to shake off the sleeping nightmares of torpor. "Dylan! Dylan," Jenna cried, pushing past Marion to grab his arms. "Babe... it's ok! I'm here!"

"Hands off, bitch," Dylan growled. Jenna's expression crumpled but she moved away without comment. Theo stepped forward and Sparks felt Smoke tense, just as he himself tensed. Neither would allow Dylan to kill Theodore, their Prefect and respected leader.

Dylan slapped away Theodore's hand. Using the Daeva gift of speed, he rose out of the box and was across the room. "Fuck you. Fuck you all," he hissed, his eyes darting from one vampire to the other. He moved again, and was gone.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Christmas Day, 2008, 3:33 a.m.

Sparks wanted to cry, but he'd never been good at that when alive. Now, he couldn't even summon them, despite really wanting that release.

The dust at his feet was mocking him. He and Smoke had been in the same neighborhood, the same school, joined the same gang. When Smoke had been Embrace to the Mehket, he'd sweet-talked fellow Shadow into bringing Sparks over. They'd bound themselves to one another, and when they were ready, they'd joined the Carthians. Sparks couldn't remember a time without his brother.

The image he'd recovered from the ashes taunted him, even as Jenna shook her head. "It can't be him. It can't!"

Theodore just looked at the wall, where a frentic hand had spray-painted: One down.

"Dylan did this," Sparks snarled, his fists clenching shut. "I saw the fucker burn my boy, my brother!" And as the red Beast in his soul took over his body, he swore his revenge.

"He's gonna have to die," Theodore said to Jenna, as he helped her and Marion hold Sparks through his frenzy. "You know that."

Jenna didn't reply; she just held Sparks, her brother in the Movement, and wished she could wake from this nightmare.

"We'll get him," Marion said softly, one thin arm holding Sparks in a merciless grip. "We'll avenge our brother."

They all knew they had to, or he'd kill them first.

[z-Amber Wren]

January 2, 2009, 8:00 A.M.

The woman unlocking the door looked a little surprised at seeing Amber already there. She would have been more surprised to know that Amber had been there since six am, hoping that she could talk to the head of the realty group before business started. But they must have a back entrance, because she didn't see anyone come in before the woman walked in from the back.

"Good morning," the brunette said, slipping a lank of hair behind her ear. "How can we help you? Are you looking for an apartment, or your first property?"

"Actually, I'm looking to keep my apartment," Amber said, extending the letter to the woman.

"Oh!" she said, her smile remaining solidly in place. The name plate on her desk said Regina as she crossed to a filing cabinet and pulled out a folder. "I see you're due in March, so we'll just get a new lease for you. Now we'll need you to feel out a new lease, and we'll need a new deposit-"

"I need to talk about the rental rate," Amber said, struggling to keep her voice neutral. She sat down in the seat across from Regina, trying to seem natural. "It's a bit... excessive for the neighborhood, and I really can't afford it. So I'd like to make a deal with the boss."

Regina stopped her preparations, letting the lease form in her hands fall back to the desk. "A... deal?"

"Yes," Amber said, leaning forward and putting her hands on the desk. "I can't pay the new rent, but I want to stay. I'm sure that I can work out something with... what was the boss' name?"

"Mr. Hatcher," Regina said. "But he doesn't come into the office much."

"Well, I need to talk to him, so how would you suggest getting in touch?" Amber asked. She was being achingly polite, painfully so. And the pain was literal - every time she felt her irritation rise, she clamped her teeth shut tight. Her jaw was starting to ache.

"I'll take your name and number and pass them on," Regina said, smiling, though it was definitely strained.

"Actually, I'd rather contact him myself," Amber said, smiling like a wolf.

"Well, I'm afraid that I can't give his information out," Regina said. Her smile wasn't as sharp as Amber's, but it had an edge to it.

Amber closed her eyes for a long blink, taking a single breath to allow her a moment. "I really need to talk to him. I'm going to give you my information to pass to him, but I'm going to be really upset if he blows me off."

"Mr. Hatcher isn't that kind of person. It may take a couple of days, but he won't ignore you," Regina promised her.

Amber turned over her information, not really believing it. No, she would start watching this place. This Hatcher dude would have to come by at some point. And when he did, she'd track him back somewhere where they could talk.

[z-Amber Wren]

January 4, 2009

Amber shifted slightly, freeing a leg from the pressure of sitting on it. As pins and needles marched painfully through her muscles, she wondered again what she was doing out here. Adrian was looking for the information for her, so why was she camped out in the chilly LA night, waiting for someone she didn't know to come by?

Because she didn't trust Adrian. She didn't believe that he was going to be able to help her much, so she was doing it herself. Stake outs, particularly stake outs done of parking lots behind realty buildings, were incredibly boring.

Her phone vibrated against her leg, and the brunette werewolf dug it out of her pocket. She didn't need to greet the person calling; she recognized the voice and he started talking the second she picked up. Noting his reflexes, Amber listened. “I have a name for you. Theodore Hatcher. I hope to have some more information for you soon, like a home address and the like. Talk to you then.” He hung up before she had to say anything, such as thank you.

Maybe the leech would come through for her. Amber wasn't sure how to feel about that. It was easier when the leech was useless.

A black car, sleek and stylish, pulled up into the dark parking lot. Amber straightened up in the shadows, watching as a tall woman got out of the car and went into the back door of the building. She didn't look like an employee; she had a body-builder's physique and her blonde hair had been shaved on the sides. But she had a key and she acted like she belonged.

Amber quickly shifted down, wiggling out of her shirt and sweat pants. She trotted over to the car, sniffing after the woman, getting her scent. There wasn't something right about it, and Amber mulled the unusual smell as she skulked to the back bumper, hiding just out of sight.

After several moments, the woman left the building, carrying a bookbag full of folders and notes. Amber tensed, waiting for her moment. It came as the woman opened the door and shifted her weight to toss in her bag. Amber lunged forward, her bared teeth going for the woman's calf, away from any major veins.

Unfortunately, Amber realized she'd been too aggressive the second her teeth tore into the woman's leg. The pained scream that followed was no surprise.

But the sweet taste of the woman's blood was. That had been the purpose of the attack, to get the woman's taste so that she could track her later, but Amber hadn't expected it to taste so wonderful. Her throat convulsed, and the blood that was in her mouth was swallowed. It slammed into her stomach and her bloodstream like herion - no, better than herion. Her task was forgotten, as Amber prepared for another lunge.

Punishing hands grabbed at her, trying to grip. Amber twisted and jerked back, yelping as she bounced against a decorative planter before tumbling to the pavement. Standing up, her mind still full of the desire for more of that blood, she ran at the woman.

But the woman didn't fight back; she had climbed into the car while Amber had risen to her feet. As Amber came back at her, she rolled the window down and hissed at her. Something bizarre happened in the woman's face, but Amber didn't notice. She lunged for the woman, her white teeth snapping. Her teeth closed on the woman's face, ripping muscle and skin alike.

The blond jerked back from Amber, and managed to get her finger on the window switch. Within seconds, the edge was smashing against Amber's neck, cutting off her air. Balling up her fist, the woman smashed it into her nose, bringing tears to Amber's eyes and shoving her head back through the window. Amber tumbled to the pavement as the car jerked into motion, squealing away from her.

Amber's immediate response was to go to Urshal and chase the car down. But she managed to stop that impulse, settling for standing up and licking the delicious blood off her lips. She wasn't worried. She could find her later. And Amber was sure that she was somehow connected to this Hatcher and this Jefferson Realty. Finding this woman was not only something she needed to do, it was now something she wanted to do.

[OOC Amber's attack (Marion has no defense, as she's surprised):

1d10=10, 1d10=4, 1d10=5, 1d10=7, 1d10=10, 1d10=4

1d10=4, 1d10=10

1d10=9 = 4 sux

Amber's Resolve + Comp:

1d10=4, 1d10=5, 1d10=4, 1d10=1 = 0 sux

Marion's attempt to grab Amber:

1d10=4, 1d10=6, 1d10=6, 1d10=2, 1d10=1, 1d10=7 = 0 sux

Marion's Nightmare use:

1d10=4, 1d10=7, 1d10=8, 1d10=5, 1d10=3, 1d10=3, 1d10=6, 1d10=9 = 2 sux

Amber's resistance:

1d10=10, 1d10=3, 1d10=7

1d10=10

1d10=7 = 2 sux

Amber's Resolve + Comp:

1d10=1, 1d10=3, 1d10=5, 1d10=1 = 0 sux

Amber's second attack:

1d10=8, 1d10=6, 1d10=5, 1d10=9 = 2 sux

Marion's second attack:

1d10=5, 1d10=6, 1d10=3, 1d10=6, 1d10=7, 1d10=8 = 1 sux

Amber's Resolve + Comp:

1d10=8, 1d10=10, 1d10=7

1d10=2 = 2 sux]

[z-Amber Wren]

Theo and Jenna glanced up when the door slammed open, and their faces were mirrors of shock and outrage when Marion stomped into Theo's office.

"My god!" Jenna said, rising to her feet as anger and pain settled over her face. She was sure, right until Marion spoke, that Dylan was responsible for this as well.

"What happened?" Theo asked, his hazel eyes concerned. But he wasn't panicking, and that helped Jenna remain calm.

"A fucking wolf attacked me," Marion rasped, her jaw attempting to work despite the shredded muscles.

"Gangrel?" Theo asked, as Jenna processed that it wasn't Dylan. She'd taught him Protean, but not the ability to assume animal forms.

"No Beast," Marion said, then rubbed an unbroken patch of skin. "Sorry, I'm not thinking. It could be a Gangrel with the ability to mask the Beast."

"Or a Shadow or Haunt with the ability to shape shift," Jenna added. "But I think that Gangrel is more likely."

Theodore ran his hands through his thick, dirty-blond hair, looking perturbed. Jenna knew that as a sign that he was very agitated. "Until we know otherwise, we have ta assume that this is an attack, possibly instigated by an ally of Dylan's."

"He just woke up," Jenna said, filling her chest constrict. Even when he wasn't responsible, he got blamed. "He couldn't have made friends already."

"Actually," Theodore said softly, "I've received information that he's doin' just that. He's findin' other vampires with no affiliations, basically anarchists, and is starting to point them at us. We're going to have to make friends of our own, some with heavy fire-power, so to speak, and we need 'em fast."

Marion nodded. Already her face was looking better, as she spent more vitae to heal. "I'll see if I can get some clan-mates in the area interested in helping us, or at least working against Dylan."

Theo nodded. "Sadly, most of the Ventrue in the area are tied into the Invictus."

Jenna remained silent about her clan; she might be able to convince them to help, in time. "So what do we do immediately?"

"Call Sparks," Theo ordered. "No one goes anywhere alone, from here on out. Safety in numbers."

[z-Amber Wren]

Following the scent-trail through the night wasn't hard. Cars aren't air tight, and the scent of that blood lingered in the night air. Amber could almost see it, like a curl of smoke, like an old cartoon. Just the thought of getting more blood made her mouth water.

And that was when she realized something was wrong. With a whine, she stopped, one ear swiveling backwards uncertainly. She didn't like blood this much. She was craving it, needing it, as if it were herion. But herion didn't sound so good anymore, not in comparison with that woman's blood. It had been bitter, yet sweet, and more fulfilling than any drug. She wanted more. She wanted lots more. And that, more than anything else, frightened her.

I'll follow this trail until it gets somewhere. Then I'll go home and call Antoine, she thought. I need... I want to talk about this with someone. Her mind made up, she forced herself to focus on her work. The path was following N. Figueroa St, so Amber was unsurprised when she entered the Highland Park area.

She was a little surprised when she found the car outside of the nice, old Victorian style house in Highland Park. It didn't seem to match the style of the woman, but that was her car, and Amber could see blood stains when she peered in the window.

She had an address. Now it was time to figure out what was wrong with her. Turning, she headed back for Cypress Park and her clothing.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

When Sparks arrived, he listened to Marion's story, then headed outside. He was still hurting over the loss of Smoke, but he knew that he had to keep rolling forward. He nodded at Theodore's announcement; it made sense. He felt protective toward those left. They were his covenant and they'd always been tight, but since Smoke's death, he'd come to realize how precarious they were. On some level, he acknowledged that he was afraid of losing his friends, and more afraid of losing his own life, but he had to remain cool and calm. He couldn't avenge Smoke if he lost his mind.

"Let's see what I can learn," he said, standing and walking out the front door. The others trailed behind him, no one letting him go alone. At Marion's car, he crouched down and stared at the scratches on the paint. They looked like an canine's; shallow without the clear tip that a cat's would have. Drawing a breath, Sparks braced himself, closed his eyes and pressed his hand to the marred paint.

-clamped around neck, can't breathe-

-a wolf thrashed, hanging from the window, Marion's torn face a mask of blood and torn flesh-

-hunger gnawing at his gut, demanding more blood-

-a woman's voice, saying, "Theodore Hatcher..."

Sparks waited, but the visions and sensations stopped. He stood up, his face worried. "I get that a wolf attacked, it is vitae addicted and a woman is looking for Theo."

Jenna stiffened, her dark eyes flying wide as she looked to their leader. Theodore swallowed, but his face remained impassive. "Thank you, Sparks. You've been much help." He glanced up and down the street. "Let us continue inside, shall we?" As they headed toward the doors, he added, "It's time to call in favors."

"From whom?" Marion asked, her blond hair looking sickly-yellow in the porch light.

Theodore glanced at her, his hazel eyes lost to shadow. "Everyone," he answered as he led them inside to start planning their war.

[ooc: Amber's Hunting roll:

Wits+Survival+Hunting Spec+bonus for tas...1d10=3, 1d10=4) = 2 sux

Amber's Medicine roll:

Int+Medicine (1d10=4, 1d10=10, 1d10=5)

rerolling the ten (1d10=10)

rerolling the ten (1d10=4) = 2 sux

Spark's Spirit's Touch check:

Spirit's Touch (1d10=5, 1d10=6, 1d10=8, 1d10=10, 1d10=2, 1d10=1, 1d10=2, 1d10=1)

1d10=1 = 2 sux]

[z-Amber Wren]

Continued briefly in A Stroll by the Crescent Moon.

[z-Amber Wren]

January 22, 2009

Amber stood behind Theodore, just managing to stave off boredom by counting the number of gray hairs the man across the table from him sported. Only he kept moving, and Amber would lose count and have to start over. At least it kept her looking alert and prepared for anything.

"So that's the case the state is making," Gray-Hairs said. Amber had been introduced to him, but hadn't bothered to learn his name. She had memorized his description, and she definitely had learned the cloying scent of his thickly-applied aftershave. If she needed to find him, she could. "My client is being offered Man-three. I need your advice, Mr. Hatcher."

"Well," Theodore said in his drawling Southern voice, "Man-three is a valid offer given the circumstances. Your client failed to brake his car and hit a young child, who died of those injuries. "I assume that your client's father is the one pressing for another outcome?"

"The senator is keen on his only son remaining clear of a criminal charge," the other lawyer said. "Hopes for a Senate run, and all that."

"That boy'll make it to the Senate the day after my dog does," Theodore snorted. "He is wholly unsuited to civil service, even by the lax modern standards they have today." He leaned forward and clasped his hands; Amber couldn't see his face, but she would bet real money that it seemed sincere. Theodore was pretty good at emulating such emotions in this setting. It was one more reason to despise him. "You must place it to your client and his father this way. If he fights it, he'll face Man-two and a longer jail term if he loses. And he will lose when the Prosecution puts a tearful, minority mother in her thread-bare Sunday best up on the stand and she talks about how the only light in her poor, hard life has been shattered by a careless, rich, white boy of twenty who couldn't wait six more months before downing a bottle of spirits and driving. That's what I'd do, and you know they'll do it too.

"Convince him to take Man-three, Edward. If he gets the right judge, he'll get a sentence of a few months, minus time already served and he'll walk home free," Theodore leaned back. "Remind him what will happen when all the black boys in Gen-Pop learn he killed a cute little black girl named Else. He'll take Man-three, and he'll be grateful for it."

Edward nodded. "Yes, yes, you're right, Mr. Hatcher," he said. "I guess I knew that but needed to hear it."

"You're a good lawyer, Edward. Have some faith," Theodore stood and turned toward the door. Edward caught the hint and rose as well, taking Theodore's hand and thanking him again. Amber watched silently until the mortal had left. Despite herself, she asked, "Will it work?"

Theodore frowned at her, looking up from the paper he'd paused to read. "Will what work?"

"Taking the plea?" As his eyebrow rose, she added, "I'm curious."

"Who knows, if he gets the right judge he might. With the wrong one, he'll get more time than he ever dreamed. Which is pretty much what he deserves," Theodore said.

"Well," Amber said, exasperated, "if you think he deserves jail, why'd you help his lawyer?"

"First, Edward is a collegue who needed help. I helped him, not his client," Theodore said, moving to his desk and hooking a leg over the corner. "And his client does have a legal right to the best possible representation."

"That sucks ass," Amber said.

"Hmm, yes, I suppose it does," Theodore remarked. "Though I would have said something more like 'What a dreadful situation.'"

Amber caught herself smiling a little at that. She forced the expression away and pressed on, "Legally, he needs representation, but you know he deserves more than he'll get. Why not fuck him?"

"Lawyers have an ethical charge to represent their clients to the best of their ability," he said. "That can be tough when-"

The alarms cut off his sentence. Amber grabbed his arm, the first time she'd willingly touched him. "Get in the safe room," she ordered, shifting up to Dalu. For the first time, her clothes went with her, expanding like magic to remain covering her.

Theodore hurried into the room; Amber shut the door and waited until she heard the steel bolts clamp into place. Then she hurried off to find the others. Shifting to Urhan made sense at that point; it was the fastest way to get around and not violate the oath regarding the Herd. Her time spent familiarizing the house was well-spent as she was able to zip through the large building, quickly finding Sparks and Jenna in their rooms. She escorted them to the room, as had been arranged, and then went out to get Marion.

It was the large blond was who she worried about. Marion was paroling the grounds. Given her ability to hide, she should be safe, but Amber wouldn't relax until the vampire was safe. With a soft growl, Amber exited through the doggie door and began to hunt.

She didn't get far. There was a sense of movement and then something shattered just in front of her, scattering flame and heat. Maltov Cocktail, she thought, even as she dodged. And that more than anything convinced her that they were under attack.

[z-Amber Wren]

Burning gasoline splashed over her neck and shoulder, tearing a pained yip from her muzzle. It burned over her fur, and Amber threw herself to the ground, rolling. It hurt a lot, but she focused on the all-important effort to get the flames out. The air filled with the charr of burnt skin and hair.

A form loomed over her; Amber literally had no chance to dodge as someone stabbed her in the side. In the crazy, dancing light of the burning remains of the molotov, Amber realized that he'd just stabbed her with a sha1p stick. A stake. He just fucking tried to stake me!

Anger welled up in her as she understood that he'd thought she was a leech. Snarling, she immediately shifted up into Urshal and rose, lunging at the man. Now it was his screams filling the night as her massive teeth closed around his side. Amber bit down hard, her anger at everything that had gone so wrong in her life culmulating in one horrific bite. She turned his torso into so much hamburger before dropping him. Honestly, she was less interested in the mewling form at her feet. She could smell others out there.

The next one she found was starting to run. Grinning wolfishly, she jumped after him. Like the other guy, he had a long, pointed stick; apparently, these guys didn't feel the need for guns. It was an interesting note.

He heard her coming and spun, bringing the stake up. Amber was too close, and once again, the wooden shaft pierced her flesh. He jerked back and tried to step back from the monstrous creature he saw and her teeth closed on him.

As he screamed and jerked his leg out of her mouth, she heard a gun shot somewhere nearby. Marion was packing, she thought, hoping that was a sign that the vampire was alright.

The guy finally seemed to see what she was; with a scream, he threw down his stake and started to run. Amber nearly chortled with glee: running prey. It triggered every instinct in her, and she galloped after him. She caught up to him long enough for a bite, but he was getting close to the back wall. Once he was past that, he'd get out. Though if he was slow in scaling said wall, she could pick him off.

He reached the wall and jumped - and pancaked into it like a character from a cartoon. He slid back down to the ground, whimpering and sobbing as his fingers tried in vain to gain purchase in the rockwork. Amber hit him like a truck, her teeth tearing open his back, lacing Theodore's landscaping in a swath of gore.

Another gun shot rang out, and Amber paused in her mauling to listen, her ears swiveling. Leaving the nearly-dead man facedown in the yard, she hurtled toward the noise, following it across the grounds.

She found Marion kneeling next to a prone man, a finger on his throat. She stopped in the open, relishing the fear on the woman's face as she beheld the fierce shape of the Urshal form. "Amber?" she whispered, tightening her hands on the rifle she carried. Amber nodded. It didn't ease the look on Marion's face at all. "I, um... got two. I heard screaming. Was that... you?"

Amber shifted to Dalu, wiping at the sticky blood around her mouth. "I got two. They're alive."

Marion looked alarmed. "The two I took out were ghouls. The ones you left behind may heal themselves and escape. C'mon."

Together, the two women hurried back to each one of Amber's 'kills.' The one at the wall did look better, right until Marion put another bullet into him. Amber looked at her and advised, "You might wanna lay off the bang-stick. It'll be harder to explain to the cops."

"Don't worry about the cops," Marion said smuggly. "We have friends on the force and this will be taken care of."

The second man was struggling to crawl away; from the appearance of his spine, he wouldn't be walking anywhere soon. Marion grabbed him and started to pull him into the house. Amber watched her go and called after her, "Marion, get in the safe room. I'm going to check the grounds. Need to be sure all is clear."

Marion shot her a dirty look as Amber shifted to Urhan and bounded off. Amber had long deduced that the big woman considered herself the muscle of the group and truly resented Amber's presence. That wasn't really Amber's problem, the werewolf mused as she began a careful search over the grounds. So long as it remained resentment instead of reactions, it was all good.

But that thought was lost as Amber found the location of the fifth man, or rather where he'd been. He had that particular smell that vampires did. He was long gone, but his position had been perfect to see the fight. A test, she growled to herself. A fuckin' test, and we handed him everything he needs.

Click to reveal.. (OOC Rolls)

ROUND ONE

Molotov Thug throwing the Maltov cocktail: 2 sux, 4 damage. 1d10=3, 1d10=10, 1d10=5

Reroll: 1d10.extra(10)=9

Amber's Athletics roll to get up and attack:

1d10.extra(10)=5, 1d10.extra(10)=6

Essense - 10/10

Health - 4/8

ROUND TWO

Molotov Thug staking attempt: 1d10.extra(10)=7, 1d10.extra(10)=7, 1d10...d10.extra(10)=8 = 2 sux, 2 damage

Amber spends 1 essence to shift to Urshal, and her Attack: 5 sux, 5 damage 1d10.extra(10)=10,1, 1d10.extra(10)=10,9...d10.extra(10)=8

Essense - 9/10

Health - 6/11

ROUND THREE

Amber heals a lethal and tracks: 2 sux 1d10.extra(10)=7, 1d10.extra(10)=3, 1d10...d10.extra(10)=5

Essense - 7/10

Health - 5/11

ROUND FOUR

Amber follows scent and heals a Lethal

Essense - 6/10

Health - 4/11

ROUND FIVE

Thug attacks: 2 sux

1d10.extra(10)=9, 1d10.extra(10)=10,4, 1d10.extra(10)=4, 1d10.extra(10)=4

Amber heals and attacks: 1 sux

1d10.extra(10)=8, 1d10.extra(10)=7, 1d10...d10.extra(10)=3

Essense - 5/10

Health - 5/11

ROUND SIX

Thug is subject to Lunancy and flees

Amber heals and attacks: 1 sux

1d10.open(10)=6, 1d10.open(10)=5, 1d10.o...1d10.open(10)=2

Essense - 4/10

Health - 4/11

ROUND SEVEN

Thug climbs: 0 sux

1d10.open(10)=5, 1d10.open(10)=2, 1d10.open(10)=3, 1d10.open(10)=2, 1d10.open(10)=1

Amber attacks: 4 sux, 4 damage

1d10.open(10)=4, 1d10.open(10)=9, 1d10.o...1d10.open(10)=3

[z-Amber Wren]

January 23, 2009, 10:00 a.m.

The main thing everyone had taken away from the attack on the twenty-second was to take care. Dylan was still very interested in them, and the appropriate considerations where taken. Amber was very concerned about numbers. Apparently, Dylan had friends, and he could create an army of fanatic followers in a matter of hours. They wouldn't tell her now, but they all agreed that Dylan could do this.

Which meant taking the fight to him. All of 'her' leeches - as much as she hated to think of them that way, it was the quickest way to differentiate them in her head - had been massaging their contacts, of which they had a frightening amount. Amber was very dismayed to learn how deeply their fingers were in most of the major human systems. But in this case, it had been helpful; Amber had an address to examine today.

Technically, she wasn't supposed to work during the day, but she welcomed the distraction. It took her mind off other things, like the party tonight that she would miss. She wanted to hang out with other people, but Frank would be there, and that made the idea of going less pleasant. Then there was the fact it was at the Liquid Haze, one of the few places she'd been with Antoine in their short relationship. So while she had a lot of reasons to not go, she also had a really good one to go: a chance to hang out and relax.

Getting her job with Theodore had been good, possibly, in a convoluted way, the best thing to ever happen to her. But it was hard work; she was on-shift most of her waking hours, usually. And she was responsible for four people at the same time, which was hard for one person to do. But Amber refused to just give up on this. She was going to find Dylan and off him if it was the last thing she did.

Walking casually around the house that Theo had identified as a possible 'haven,' Amber scoped it out. It was a two story house with a possible basement. The basement, being the easiest to shield from the sun, would be her starting point.

She circled the block and found the house catercorner to it was for sale. That was good enough for her, and she ducked through that yard and to the back fence. She hopped into the next yard and then quickly into the target yard. Crouching, she paused and waited for a clamor that would tell her she'd been spotted, but all was quiet.

She hurried to the sliding door and found it locked. She would have tried to open it, but a single glance at the track the door slid in told her that was useless; the wise occupants of the house had barred it with a bat. Even if she could get the lock open, she'd only be able to slid the door open a couple of inches.

Grumbling to herself, she went to the side door on the garage. This was a more standard door, and Amber knelt to look at the lock. It was fairly typical and she reached for the two little tools she had just for stuff like this. It took several minutes of work, but she managed to get the lock open. Grinning, she slipped into the garage and looked around. It was empty, which gave her a moment's pause. Had there been a car out front? And if not, how did he get here?

Amber groaned softly. It was looking more and more like a false lead, which was going to make her grumpy. "Working for nothing," she said, but honor dictated she do her job right and that included making sure that the dickhead she was hunting wasn't here.

She opened the door to the house and stepped in, looking around the kitchen. All appeared to be normal, including the debris littering the cabinets. It was all empty food wrappers, so Amber surmised it was from his human servants. The living room was easily seen from the arch of the kitchen, and she could see into the bedroom at the end of the hall. Of much more interest was the closed door to the left of the hall that was probably the way into the basement.

Later, she would remember three things clearly. The first would be the odd way the door opened, with a lot of tension and then none, as if something had been trying to hold it closed and then let go. The second would be the strange contraption on the stairs, something made from PVC pipe and a car battery. The third thing would be the way that contraption exploded in a shimmery cloud of glittering fire.

Click to reveal.. (OOC Rolls)

Amber cases the joint: 3 sux

1d10.open(10)=7, 1d10.open(10)=10,10,9, 1d10.open(10)=7, 1d10.open(10)=5

Amber listens: 3 sux

1d10.open(10)=9, 1d10.open(10)=3, 1d10.open(10)=3, 1d10.open(10)=8, 1d10.open(10)=9

Amber picks a lock: 1 sux

1d10.open(10)=4, 1d10.open(10)=6, 1d10.open(10)=5, 1d10.open(10)=6, 1d10.open(10)=8

Dylan's bomb-making roll: 4 Agg (silver shrapnel), 20 meters

1d10.open(10)=7, 1d10.open(10)=6, 1d10.o...1d10.open(10)=4

Amber's roll to avoid Death Rage: 3 sux

1d10.open(10)=25, 1d10.open(10)=7, 1d10.open(10)=16, 1d10.open(10)=6

[z-Amber Wren]

The world came back in fits and starts. Amber lay half-slumped to the floor, her back against a wall. For a moment, she had no idea what had happened, only that she hurt more than she'd ever hurt before. She tried to sit up, but the effort was too much and she flopped to the floor. "Ungh," she said, which was all she could manage despite the new agony caused by this position.

The smell of smoke and the crackling of fire snapped her back to reality. Amber gasped in a lungful of smoke and hacked it back out, curling her face down toward the fresh air. Have to get it together.

She shifted to wolf-form, and began a laborious belly-crawl toward the kitchen. As she stuck her head around the corner, and shotgun blast just about took it off. With a yelp, she jerked back, and a fresh round of adreniline began to sear the fog away. Goons blocking my way out. They'd have the sliding door in the back covered, too. Which left one way out.

The firemen were just pulling up as the shaggy dog threw itself through a window and onto the porch. A couple ran forward to help, but the mangled animal staggered away from them and ran off.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Amber sat in the seat of her truck and cried for a while. It seemed the thing to do, despite her natural inclinations against this kind of display of emotion. She couldn't even really drive her truck; every time she tried, the jolting hurt too badly. She needed to get this shrapnel out. She'd pulled out the stuff she could reach, which is how she'd found out why it had hurt so badly. A small pile of chopped-up silverware

But worse that that, she was getting looks. A glance in the mirror told her why - her body was riddled with cuts and gashes, some small, some not so small. The silver was barely visible in some of them. She couldn't be seen like this, because someone would call the cops.

She turned off her truck and slid over to the passenger seat, then down to the floorboard. She dug her phone out of her pocket and rang one person who would likely be awake, able to get off work, and care enough to come get her. "Hi, Dec," she said when he picked up the phone. "I've got a little problem..." She laid it out for him: her breaking and entering, the jury-rigged bomb and her current condition. "Don't suppose you could come get me and drive my truck somewhere, could you?"

Click to reveal.. (OOC Rolls)

Overeager Thug firing at movement: 0 sux

1d10.open(10)=6

Amber jumps out the window: 0 sux on Dex/Athletics, 1 Lethal Damage

1d10.open(10)=7, 1d10.open(10)=2, 1d10.open(10)=4, 1d10.open(10)=3

[Owns-The-Night]

((Moved to a new fic: The Measure of a Friend.))

[z-Amber Wren]

Amber woke up when something brushed over her body; she opened her eyes, startled to find Theodore's face much closer to her own than it had ever been. As she struggled to adjust to this, he finished draping the blanket over her. She realized with a flush of embarrassment that she'd fallen asleep on the job.

"No, that's quite all right," Theodore said when she started to sit up. "You'll have more than enough time to respond if something comes for us. And aside of that, you haven't been sleeping enough," he told her. "I can see the bags under your eyes and the other signs of exhaustion." He gave her one of those easy, Southern-sweet smiles. "And I'd rather have my body guard well rested."

Amber wanted to argue, but she still wasn't healed. Based on how she was healing, it would be a while yet. "I'm fine," she said, but remained stretched out in the over-stuffed chair, her feet up on the ottoman.

Theodore turned back to his work, consulting the laptop and the law text in front of him while making notes on a piece of paper. By now, Amber knew that he'd have the notes translated to a computer later, because his flowing, old-fashioned script was unusual enough to catch attention. He didn't type very fast, either.

Maybe she was too tired. Maybe she just had to ask. Maybe this was her way of starting to keep her promise to Ariel. But Amber finally asked the question that she'd been burning in her. "What are you?"

"Excuse me?" Theodore said, looking up at her. "In what regard?"

"You were once human, now you're a vampire, but what is that, really?" Amber asked. "I know someone who was alive and now they're a vampire. It's fu-fudging creepy."

"I see," Theodore said, turning his chair and leaning back in it. As he let the computer chair tilt into a new position, he took off his glasses and clasped them loosely in his hands. "You seek to reconcile the human with the vampire?"

"No," Amber said, shaking her head. "I know that she's not the person she was, and I want to know what she is now."

Theodore looked at her for a long moment. Amber wondered if he was going to answer her. "You, a werewolf, are so very sure that she's not the person she was?" he asked cautiously, but his eyes were narrowed with what could be irritation or anger.

"If she was," Amber said, looking at the monster she'd given her word to die protecting, "I'd have to kill her. To free her."

"Uhm," was the noncommittal response. "Well, I cannot tell you what we are, save that we are vampires. We aren't the person we once were. We have new drives and desires, a new outlook on the world. We must. We have been transformed into something else."

Theodore paused, and Amber felt her stomach clench. His pauses meant he was picking the right words to say, because he knew that what he was going to say wouldn't be well received. "But I love my wife and my children, though they are long gone. Had they lived past my death, I would have braved the sun to save them."

"What... why are they gone?" Amber asked, unsure if she really wanted to know.

"A man murdered them." His voice was flat, bland, yet it held so many emotions, dammed up tightly. "I murdered him. And then I was murdered in turn for being a sinner, and worthy of damnation." His hazel eyes met hers. "I am not Theodore, who was a man, who died that night. I am Theodore, who is a vampire. I am merely changed, not remade."

"All I wanted was a simple answer," Amber growled.

"There is never a simple answer, even when you can say yes or no. Have you always been a werewolf? Or were you turned with a bite?" Theodore asked.

"Not exactly, but I born human." Amber didn't like where this was going, but she couldn't back out.

"Then you understand your friend better than you know." He bowled on, not letting her correct him on the matter of being Sarah's "friend." "You were human, and were remade into a werewolf. Your friend was human, and was remake into a vampire."

"But you died! How can you claim to be who you are when your body is dead?" Amber asked, frustration in her voice.

"How can you claim to be the Amber Wren who was a human, when you can change your body, defying all human rationality and laws?" Theodore shot back. "Your friend is not who she was, but she retains important pieces of herself. What she loved, she still loves. What she hated, she still hates. She is a magical monster. You are a magical monster. On a very real level, the only difference between the two of you was the crucible in which your alchemy was fired."

The grandfather clock ticked. Amber struggled to think, to come up with a response, but her mind seemed to want to only count the ticks, which seemed loud as hammer strikes.

"I don't wish to upset you," Theodore said, in what was probably the leading contender for Understatement of the Year. "But you seek a black and white answer in a world of grays, and I will not lie to you. You're a valuable ally. And your friend would probably be a valuable ally, if you would understand that she is what she is - no more, no less. She isn't someone you must save. She isn't your dead friend. She is something else, and you will never know what unless you let her show you."

Again it was silent with only the clock marking the passage of time. Amber literally couldn't think of anything to say. It was all too much, and Theodore seemed to understand. "I believe I have given the best answer I can, so I will return to my work. And you should sleep, Amber, you really should."

Amber nodded and rolled away from him. She didn't want him to see her face. As she curled up in the deep chair, she tried to sleep, to escape into dark bliss. But her mind raced, rocketing from one point to another like a wild horse, trying to find a fence low enough to jump. And try as she might, sleep was long in coming.

[z-Amber Wren]

February 7, 2009, 3:00 a.m.

Amber hated this. The clenching in her gut had gotten worse lately, and she knew what it was. She was an ex-junkie, and she remembered the pangs. This was worse though. There were no social workers to hold her hand, or to offer her words of encouragement. There would be no help, outside of herself.

That wasn't true, she reminded herself, not quite. She had a pack. Even now, after so much time had passed, she still felt warm inside when she thought about that. She had a family; she wasn't alone. It was a heady thought.

She should tell them how bad it was getting. Lately, she'd had nearly constant thoughts of ripping open her wards and drinking the red goodness inside. It sucked beyond compare, and Amber was more than a little worried what would happen if she lost it. She'd probably attack one of the vampires and compromise everything she'd worked for - no pressure or anything.

Theodore's intercom/phone crackled to life. "Motion sensors just barked," Sparks said over the line. "We have eyes on the south fence, section 9."

"I'm on it," Amber said, hopping to her feet. She glanced at Theodore, who shook his head. "Fine," she said, shrugging. "Suit yourself." She left the room, passing Jenna, who seemed to have the good sense to head for the safe room. As Amber bounced down the stairs, she heard them start to argue.

Theodore didn't like the disruption to his schedule, Amber had figured out. He was getting tired of the preparations, the mad dashes that were to ensure their safety but never seemed to do anything. All these semi-false alarms were starting to wear on them. Even vampires could get stressed, Amber mused as she shifted forms into the wolf and nosed her way out though the hidden door in the garage. Shielded by the bushes, she was able to get a look around for possible ambushers before they saw her.

The coast appeared to be clear, and Amber took off at a run. Her wolf-nose twitching. As she got close to the section, she could smell it; someone was here. Male, she mused, taking in the bitter, heady scent of testoterone. Now, how to take him down?

She couldn't risk biting him, just because he might be a vampire. She'd gotten lucky, but she couldn't stay lucky forever. Snarling softly, she shifted up to Dalu, spent precious essense - and nothing happened. Grimacing, she did it again, and ugly, monstrous claws appeared on her finger tips. Nodding, she snuck forward.

She was pretty quiet, but not quiet enough. The man spun on her, and Amber immediately slashed at him. He jerked back, well away from her claws.

They danced around for a bit, but eventually, Amber got the upper hand. Using her claws, she managed to get a grapple on him, and started to drag him back to the house.

The smell of his blood filled the air. It was like every saliva gland went into overdrive and her stomach twisted. But Amber had had practice at ignoring this, and it was getting a little easier to ignore it.

Growling to herself, she dragged him into the basement and chained him to the wall. Then she called down the others. "Anyone know him?" she asked when the group arrived.

"No," Theodore said, rollin back a sleeve. "But let's find out. Amber, will you hold him?"

"Sure," she said. "How?"

"Get his head tilted to the side, and his mouth open."

"What are you going to do?" Amber asked.

"I'm going to make sure he'll talk to me." Theodore looked tired. "Viniculums are beautiful."

"You wouldn't," the man hissed.

"I won't if you talk now," Theodore said. His voice was strangely cold. "Otherwise, I could use another hand around here." He paused a beat, then added, "Did I mention that I'm from Virginia? When I was a boy, slavery was still legal. So don't assume that just because I'm a Carthian, that I won't use my blood."

The man started talking.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"So," Amber said conversationally, using a wetnap to get the ash off her arms, "where was this party? I couldn't hear it over the screams."

It had been a fruitful encounter. The intruder had been a dumb vampire trying to get some information to get him in good with Dylan. While he didn't have all the information they needed, he did have an important detail: on Valentine's Day, Dylan was going to be at a party. It was a shot to jump him and get the upperhand.

Theodore slid the paper over the table to her. Jenna had taken notes, and her neat handwriting covered the page. Amber read down, stopped, and read it again.

"Well... shit. This won't be awkward. At all."

Click to reveal.. (OOC Notes)

Agg heals at a rate of 1 per week. The bomb went off on January 23. Amber is down to 2 Agg by the beginning of this fiction.

Amber's Willpower roll: 2 sux (spent a WP)

1d10=6, 1d10=1, 1d10=10, 1d10=6, 1d10=3, 1d10=8, 1d10=7

1d10=7

She will be at +1 dice next roll.

Amber's Perception: 2 sux

1d10.open(10)=8, 1d10.open(10)=8, 1d10.o...1d10.open(10)=5

Amber's Partial Change: 0 sux

1d10.open(10)=4, 1d10.open(10)=4, 1d10.o...1d10.open(10)=2

Amber's Second Attempt: 2 sux, granting claws

1d10=7, 1d10=9, 1d10=8, 1d10=4, 1d10=3, 1d10=4, 1d10=7

Amber's Stealth: 1 sux, not successful

1d10=6, 1d10=4, 1d10=1, 1d10=8, 1d10=2

Thug's Perception: 1 sux

1d10=9, 1d10=2, 1d10=3, 1d10=6

Amber's willpower roll: 2 sux (spent a WP)

1d10=3, 1d10=4, 1d10=1, 1d10=10, 1d10=1, 1d10=6, 1d10=6, 1d10=10

1d10=1, 1d10=5

She will be at +2 dice on the next roll.

Theodore's Intimidate: 3 sux

1d10=1, 1d10=10, 1d10=7, 1d10=6, 1d10=8, 1d10=10

1d10=4, 1d10=6

Thug's WP: 2 sux 1d10=3, 1d10=4, 1d10=3, 1d10=6, 1d10=6, 1d10=10

1d10=10

1d10=1

[z-Amber Wren]

Continued in Baby Steps

[z-Amber Wren]

February 14, 2:00 a.m.

Hunting was the most dangerous time, or it was for Jenna. She hated that fucking werewolf, and there was no way she was going to take that bitch along while she was trying to find some cute boy to drink. But Marion and Sparks were so afraid of going out, even in groups, that they insisted on taking that furry cunt with them. So Jenna defied Theodore in this one way, and she went out without an escort.

She was always amazed at the sense of relief that came over her when she left the compound. Sighing happily, she shoved her hands in her pocket and tilted her head back. She liked being alone, just her and the night air. When she'd been with Dylan, she'd hated being alone, but losing him had removed most of her social desires. She was Gangrel, she was a predator among predators. She liked people, liked being around the other Carthains, but some nights, she needed to have this time alone.

Today was particularly rough. It was her seventh Valentine's Day without Dylan. It was always a rough night for her; technically two nights, since it started halfway through one night and finished the next. That was the worst thing about living only in the night. You went through each day at least twice.

At least she had gotten smart and had started to spend the holiday alone. At least this way, she could take care of herself without putting up with sympathy from anyone. If she wanted to go walking in silent self-pity, there was no one to stop her. If she wanted to feed, she could, and no one would try to determine if it was a bad sign. She could just be, and that was a glorious gift.

"Jenna." The voice froze her. "You should have known not to come out, on tonight of all nights." She spun, but almost immediately turned back when she caught movements out of the corners of her eyes. She was surrounded. She turned back, teeth bared at the shadow where his voice was coming from.

"Come and fight me, coward!" she snarled.

"Jenna, Jenna... I learned the lessons of the Carthains well. Never do a job yourself when you can get twenty or thirty blood-addicted freaks to do it for you." His hungry wolves closed in on her, as eager for her blood as they were to do their master's bidding.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

February 14, 2009, 8:00 p.m.

Amber was feeling good. Today she'd kill that asshole and could complete her agreement with Theodore. Nothing could bring her down, not even the spoiled milk or being out bagels. She had her cereal dry ate cream cheese off her fingers, and she did it with a smile on her face. She wasn't headed over to Theodore's tonight; instead, she was going to catch up with Declan and Sarah, and they were going to finish this thing off. It wouldn't take long with the three of them, and Amber felt her lips twist into a smile. It was going to be a good night.

Her phone rang, and Amber grabbed it. "Yeah?"

"He got Jenna." Theodore's voice was broken and filled with ice.

"Fuck," Amber said, and was a little surprised to find that she meant it. "Are you sure?"

"We got her ashes. Sparks verified it."

"Fuck. I'm sorry," she said. "I'm getting this fucker tonight."

"I know," he said. "Godspeed."

"Yeah, I've got something better than that," she told him.

"Oh, Amber... your blasphemy is so charming."

"Yeah, yeah... I'll call you when it's done," Amber said.

Theodore sighed. "Thank you. I'll talk to you later."

After they had hung up, Amber called Declan. "Get Sarah and meet me at her locus. I've got a plan for getting rid of this asshole."