[b][u]The Empire of Salt and Fire[/u][/b]
Collab: Ezekiel and Fallen Muse

[img]http://img14.deviantart.net/e1ea/i/2014/223/6/e/dark_cathedral_by_masiani-d7uoc3x.jpg[/img]

[i]"May Caine shroud us in Glory."[/i]

The chant was repeated the moment it escaped the lips of the Archbishop. The gathering, despite its severity, was only small. Deep in the North-Mexican foothills, the buried sacred hall of the Sabbat had been build to hold hundreds, but for now, a precious few. The Archbishop himself, a trio of bishops, and a small pack of Black Hand agents.

[i]"We are gathered, that we might invest in our chosen childer but a fragment of your power, of your divine will, to carry out your will."[/i] He stepped forwards from the alter, a chalice of blood between his hands. All Sabbat endured the rite of Vinculum, among their pack, but, for those ascending to higher realms of power, a new bond must be formed with the others of their rank, and the chalice contained the vitae of all those assembled.

The chosen individual in question, knelt before them, at the base of the stairs leading up to the Sacrificial Alter of Caine. Garbed in the Sacred Black Robes of the Sabbat; in her case, cut to best display the perfectly sculpted form of the Tzimisce beneath.

[i]"Rise, and drink deeply, of the gifts of Caine."[/i]

The dark brown pupils of Anastasia danced about to those other figures present, though she gave off a facade of focus on the Arch Bishop before her. Her robes seemed to differ greatly from those around her, cut to be just above mid thigh, and dripping low enough in the front to dive right past her ample cleavage. Her movements slow and purposeful even as she knelt. Ana's hands reaching forward and easily holding the chalice and taking deep droughts of the blood of those above her in rank. Drops of it rolled down her chin as it escaped from the corners of her lips. 

"Et nomine Caine, et patris, et gladius, et sanguis sancti." the words move softly from those perfectly full lips crafted over time to become what Ana considered the most desirable, every part of her meticulously worked on to befit her own ideal of beauty.

"Your faith in me in allowing me the opportunity to take Los Angeles on behalf of the Sabbat is gracious indeed." 'If a bit over due.' "And so I submit all my power to conquering the land in the name of Caine, and the congregation here." Ana stands up slowly, her eyes moving once more between those gathered. 

"And so I will travel to LA as soon as the Congregation releases me to do so." She folded her hands in front of her, awaiting the Arch Bishop's verdict.

"You are released from your bonds here, but never from your duty to Caine, childer, may his eyes weight upon you, till his judgement comes." The Archbishop's response was filled with the vindictive fervour of the true believe, placing a palm on the forehead of the newly blessed kindred, before descending the steps to stand level with her.

"A few scattered packs of our brethren survive in Los Angeles, but you will be free to take more soldiers of our cause with you. Your primary task is to find the Icons, then secure the city for the Sabbat. Tell our warriors there what you will, but a city is less important to us than the resurrection of a God." He waved a hand, to dismiss the gathered elders, eventually, after some moments, leaving the pair alone in the darkened halls.

"Are your duties clear?"

Standing there with the Arch Bishop Anastasia watched the other leaved, feeling empowered by the fact that her contributions had finally been recognized. Her head swiveled towards the Arch Bishop as he repeated the question from before. The vampiress gave a nod of acceptance to the idea of doing whatever was necessary. 

"Of course Arch Bishop, it is my place to do as the Sabbat wishes even give my eternity for them." She began to move in whichever direction the Arch Bishop indicated, listening intently to his advice.

"There is a Toreador we have had some contact with in LA, he bears the name Alexander Stone, he has, in his own way, been preparing Los Angeles for our return. You may find him...unconventional, but he will be a useful tool in your task. That is all I can offer you, beside the blessing of Caine." The Archbishop once more placed his hand upon her brow, marking it with a stamp of blood, forming the Blade of Caine, before rolling down her features.

"Journey with his eyes upon you."

[b][u]Los Angeles[/u][/b]

The roar of the jets engines engulfed the private runway as Anastasia's private jet took its place on the runway. It coasted for a bit before it came to a stop in front of a private hangar. The stairs slowly lowered from the side, and from the jet walled a man stoic and stern first, followed by a tattooed Hispanic girl, and finally Anastasia, she was dressed in a dark purple dress fit tight to her body. 

It wasn't long before Anastasia and her retinue found themselves in a private lounge, mostly ghouls and humans, a few of them giving off quite the delicious scent. 'No time for that unfortunately' Anastasia thought to herself as she flicked her eyes about the room. Finally she gave up and said aloud. "Alexander stone." Everyone stopped and stared. "If you are not Alexander Stone then I suggest you avert your fucking eyes and mind your own business."

Despite the overt display of aggressive tone, and the 'muscle' to back it up, the calming noise of the lounge-piano continued to waft through the air, as most of the present Ghouls and Kindred scattered for their own good, or simply a lack of desire to deal with any dramatics. The figure sitting at the instrument had his back turned to the new arrivals, playing away with deft skill, right until they would approach behind him, spinning around on the stool set before the jet black piano.

"Ah, that would be me, a pleasure." He slapped his knees before standing. Tall, and garbed in a perfectly tailored  suit, for now the jacket hanging off his shoulder, he bowed theatrically, taking the Tzimisce's hand as he rises, planting a kiss upon her fingers, before letting go, rising to his full height, all in a motion faster than the trio could respond to, but still able to see every detail.

"They didn't mention you'd be stunning."

Cold eyes stared into Alexander's own eyes. Drinking him in so to say. She slowly let her hand fall to her side. "So you are the vampire that calls no no one family." She lifted a single hand and waved them towards a side door. 

"Let us talk, and ride. I would prefer to be on the move seeing the sights while you explain to me exactly what is happening in this city." She seemed to ignore Alexander's rather optimistic behavior, preferring to be all business. Anastasia moved through the door followed closely by Maria, while Ulrich stayed behind to walk behind Alexander, and staring at the Toreador as if he might attack Anastasia at any moment.

"Fear not, there's a rather large, fancy car, awaiting." Alexander's tone remained the same, jovial, to the point of carelessness, as he pointed towards a certain door. He walked with a slight spring to his step, almost as if he was about to break into dance, but not quite, turning his body to half-wave at the ex-Teutonic Knight tailing him. With the power of the private lounge's aircon, stepping out into the LA night brought on a rise of heat. The car awaiting them was indeed as described, jet black, the Sedan limousine purred as its engine ran, a Ghoul holding the doors open for them all, before taking his place as the driver, a thick sheen of sound-proof glass shortly separating him from those within the travelling compartment of the vehicle.

"L.As a nice little mess of a city of late, the Anarchs and the Camarilla have been going at it, but then, it's broken down to the point no one really cares 'which' side you were on, new alliances being drawn every day." His gaze alternated between the Sabbat elder, and the view of the shining city rolling by, as if he couldn't quite decide which was more interesting, before finally settling on her.

"There are very few Elders left on any side, we've been pruning the herd."

As she slid into the stretch limo, Anastasia looked over to Maria, and held out a hand. The ghoul knowing exactly what her Mistress wanted handed a Ipod to her. It seemed as if Anastasia was only half listening, though in reality she was fully paying attention. Within moments the bluetooth radio was playing a rather old song in Spanish to which Anastasia began to let her head sway back and forth a bit, mouthing the words as they were sung. 

"No peudo vivir, si vivir es sin ti... No puedo vivir, ya no puedo dar mas." She stopped as there was talks of prunin the Elders. She leaned forward, her fingers tapping on her knees a bit cautious now at the idea that this Toreador had been helping murder the older vampires. 

"I see.. There are no plans to try and murder me from you are there?" Her nails grew longer by the second sharper, but then retracted as she took control of her thoughts. "I am of course joking, who is in charge of anything then? If there is anyone in charge. I do hate clutter, it makes things much more difficult to take hold of the world."

"You? Oh no, I've never murdered anything quite so delightful." He chuckled, his eyes passed over her growing claws for the moment, but he other wise did not react, remaining calm, and reclined, in his seat, one hand moving as if he was still playing a piano, going over the keys of a for-now silent song. He ceased as he continued;

"Some of the Anarch eldership remain, and I imagine the Camarilla are beginning to seed the city." He paused before continuing, tapping a hand on one shoe, resting on his knee, as he collected his thoughts; "Primarily though, you may have heard rumours of an elder working behind the scenes to safeguard the Anarch States, Christopher Houghton, he's very much real, and the main obstacle to any outsiders taking power. It will be hard to force him to appear, however, and much harder still to do anything about it."

A single sound was the only retort to Alexander's talk of Christopher, a rather dismissive snort coming from Ulric's direction. Meanwhile Maria had gone to sprawling herself out and playing angry birds on her phone, the sound of green piggies being killed quite audible. 

"What Ulrich meant to say is that this Elder is a miniscule obstacle in the larger picture. This city is in chaos and in major need of a change. I will offer that change. In the meantime I want you to put word out that any Sabbat who have forgotten their ways have a single chance to return to the fold, to find and repledge themselves under my leadership. I promise the rewards will be greater than they could have ever wanted." Anastasia taps her lips for a moment. "I understand you consider yourself independent, but know that if you join me I will reward you for all the work you do for me. Do not answer now. Give it some consideration." Ana slowly crossed her legs placing her palms in her lap as she leaned back a bit and turned her head to stare out the window.

"In the meantime let's dispense with this scenery, and find somewhere with more kindred. I would like to make my presence known."

"Ah yes, we should be arriving shortly, sorry to be dull, but we're heading to another airport. I've gathered what brethren would listen to me there, ready for you. Although, I can't imagine they could ever be truly prepared." He eyed her like a connoisseur would eye a fine wine, drinking in deeply the perfected sight of the Bishop, without losing any of the cool facade he projected.

"You have my services, my lady, let us see what we can do for each other." His shark-like grin stretched across his face, before he was up, seat belt clicked off, door thrown open. "We're here." Bob Hope Airport was considerably smaller than the International Airport Anastasia had arrived at earlier. A primarily domestic airport, it had fallen into Sabbat hands as part of the reclamation of the Cartels, and had survived the recent conflict simply by being not important enough to be worth the resources. They had arrived only a few steps from the entrance onto Terminal A. A group of five ghouls stood guard for them, Alexander paused only to allow Anastasia to proceed before him. Once the doors opened onto her, she was to meet with the assembled throng of the Sabbat.

Only a quartet of Sabbat packs remained, that had attended, totally something around forty kindred, each awaiting a message from on high, eagerly.

Being told that an arrangement had already been made for her arrival. "Very good Alexander." The words came out like someone giving praise to a puppy for not pissing on the floor.

Her stride carried her easily though it also bore a momentous amount of hip swaying as she pushed open the door to the meeting place, a look of disappointment quickly growing across her features. 

"This is it?" Her head turned slightly toward Alexander. "This will not do." Once more she stared at those gathered, drinking in their auras. Anastasia's frown furthered as she began to shake her head.

"No... Contact the Arch Bishop. I will need experienced warriors. In the mean time the rest of you seek out whoever you know. Grow in strength. Also find me a nosferatu, a particularly knowledgeable preferably."

Alexander seemed more amused by her frustration than anything, surveying the assembled Sabbat before they left, already, on their tasks, giving one a cheerful wave, before stepping out towards the centre of the terminal, the clack of his finely cobbled shoes filling their air; "You would do well to not underestimate them, it has not been easy for Sabbat to survive in his city." Standing in the dead centre of the atrium hall, he looked up at the now unlit arrival screens.

"Ah, a Nosferatu, I can do, you'll find my contacts 'far' more useful, than anyone you ship in from 'down South' I should thing." He spun on his heel once more, to face her, as he spoke. For a brief moment, he allowed his aura to blaze through, aware she would have been reviewing the power of those available to her. In comparison to the waifs of Sabbat that remained, Alexander burned like a bright star before her.

With pursed lips Anastasia simply nodded at the Toreador. She walked towards him a hand out to her side to keep Ulrich at bay while Maria was still off in the corner playing games on her phone.

"I like your enthusiasm Alexander." She reached out to stroke a finger over his cheek, the tingling magic of viccisitude only touching the Toreador for a split second.

"If you were not so important and powerful I would definitely try to add you to my collection." She made a sniffling sound. "Any chance we can find something to eat? I like twins. Preferably female."

"Ah, perhaps one day, my lady, I might yet outgrow my use." Alexander smirked, his flesh still alive with the briefest touch of her power. As their contact finished, he removed a phone from his pocket. One speed dial away, when she mentioned the need to feed. Of all the many contacts one could have in Hollywood, a casting director had many uses for the Kindred, especially one with a moral complex to put off a serial killer.

"Twins, female. Yes, I would imagine preferably identical. Usual delivery. Penthouse." The few words were spoken, and the call was ended, the smart phone returned to his pocket, and the grin to his lips. "Feel free to bring company, but we shall have to retire to my 'place.' This would hardly be suitable." He gestures to their surroundings, before motioning towards the entrance. "Shall we?"

Anastasia lit up at the sudden conclusion for her request to eat. She twisted a bit and began to walk towards the door as it was motioned to. 

"Wonderful also Ulrich will have whatever else we can gather. He is not picky." Anastasia had let down that cold hard appearance in place of one that was quite hungry, and would soon be fulfilled.