[IC] The Blood Compact

[thewizardguy]

Mathew grinned, as the connection ended. There was no point in saying goodbye, the old geezer would forget anyway. However, the plot had thickened, and Mathew had always had a good nose for profit. This entire business was beautiful, and he needed to be a part of it. He was already invested, all he'd have to do is make the stakes a little higher. Higher stakes meant double the profits, and far from all profits were to be measured in monetary gain. "Lucy, bring me all files related to Kilo Point, contact my SOLDIER people. I want everything, but give a list of confirmed Oldbloods high-pri." [Downloading Data now. It should be available on your desktop in moments.] Bribes and threats could buy a lot of information, and that information exponentially expanded the quantity of threats. Blackmailing was a beautiful, fine little art, and it was an art that Mathew had mastered. Everyone had something they loved, something they cherished. Maybe it was their job, maybe it was their car, maybe it was their family. If you found that, you gained access to everything they were, all they could possibly be. They ceased being a person, and became simply another tool to manipulate, another stepping stone among so many. And SOLDIER was fraught with stepping stones. Already walking down the stairs, Mathew opened up his phone. Information displayed on a thin glass screen, easy to process and realize, already sorted based on their prevalence. "Oh Lucy, you know me too well. Whatever would I do without you?" [Nothing, sir.] "Right you are." Chuckling, Mathew was making phone calls as he stepped into the pre-prepared limousine awaiting him at the bottom of his office complex. Bulletproof glass, reinforced frame, altered alloys forming armoured plates that were both effective and stylish. The perfect ride for the criminal that cared about appearance. "I need you to track down Magnus Shane. Do I sound like I care whether he'll kill you? Go die for what you love, and if you're lucky, there's a Heaven where you can wait for 'em." Person after person, SOLDIER and NASA, CIA and every other organization that Mathew had infiltrated. "I need a line on this Rebecca character, everything you can get on her, her connections, her residence.... everything." Bribes, occasionally. But mostly, no incentive was needed. The people he spoke to already knew they were puppets, and that they would always do what Mathew dictated. They were his bitches, only fit to serve. There was the occasional example, but other than that, things went smooth. "She ain't no God, so you should be able to find her sorry ass. I don't care who you have to kill, I want the data, so get on it!" Tomorrow morning, it would be on his desk. Either that, or their flayed corpses. The limousine screeched to a halt outside the building. It was decorous indeed, the very seat of luxury. All shine, beautiful little systems keeping track of everything that happened, neatly trimmed hedges and painted flowers. All of it old-fashioned, as if there was still worth to be found in the remains of the ancient world. Then again, the figure he was hunting would be a collector of artifacts - would it not be natural for such a person to have their head stuck in the past? "My name is Mathew Stone, I'm here to see the collector about business." "I'm sorry sir, you'll just have to -" With one hand, Mathew held up his tablet. The contents of the screen turned the man pale, as the rest of the sentence dissolved into indecipherable whispering. "Door, open, now." With the sound of well-oiled hinges, the large gates to the estate opened up, and Mathew got back into his car, the driver already starting up. Time was of the essence here. He was late, and he'd have to make a good first impression. On the real collector, of course, not this mindless puppet that had responded to him. Was he really supposed to believe that the deals recorded by hundreds of vampires and humans across the world were the work of this fossil? he found it an insulting notion, at best.

[The Grey Dust]

Several posh fountains lined the side of the roadway as Mathew drove up the curving path. While they had wonderful statue figures carved or cast, they were unimportant details, save for the water which flowed through them. As the Manor came up, the driveway curved around a large water-feature which was most certainly man-made as the water from the fountain cycled into this pool to be recycled. It was clear that the fountains were not on the same water system as the house if one knew the inner workings of the pond. Greeting Mathew at the doorway would be the large and imposing majordomo, who also did well to deal with the old master given his memory. A good thing to note was that the man carried a gun, visibly armed and well muscled. He was also not English, but an import from across the pond. This was a thrall of Bedivere, who kept tabs on the Collector, thrice bitten and blindly loyal to his true master. Not quite a vampire yet, though he longed to be, he had yet to earn his fangs as he had yet to find an adequate replacement for a new collector now that the current is less than fully operational. "The household, Master Stone, greets you." A thick southwestern US accent. "I trust you won't need to be searched for weapons, but if I ask are you willing to oblige?" The heavy hand over his own gun suggested a barely veiled threat. "Now then the Master will be waiting for you, if you'd follow me." As the guard guided Mathew through the atrium and halls filled with various paintings and objet d'art alongside fresh flowers in exquisite vases, the house help could be noticed, stealing peeks at the visitor. The two eventually made it into the drawing room, where they would find the old man sitting and enjoying tea with the morning papers. He had already read them earlier, but had forgotten about it since. There was, also another figure, clad in black as pale as the moon sitting at the table. The figure's red eyes glared across Mathew stone, as the vampirism was quite clear was this the real collector? "Master and associate, I present to you Master Stone." "Ah good then, Mister Stone, please take a seat and join us. Do not mind my business partner, and yes as you can tell he is a vampire, not that it matters much here in the UK, he is ex-Solider he tells me. I just read today there was an attack on them in the States." An empty cup designated where they expected Mathew to sit. Next to the old man, but on the other side of the silent vampire. It was thought out to a detail as Mathew would be unable to face the vampire if he intended to talk business with the old man directly. "Come now, let me pour you a cup proper, Mister... Stone was it? What was it now that I had you visit for? Ah right business. Well?" A cup of earl grey tea was poured for Mathew, although it was time for him to decide which of these two men was the one to talk to. But either way he would lose. For Bedivere had no intention of revealing himself to the man until the sun had set. The pendulum of the grandfather clock swung back and forth, deflecting the morning sunlight coming from the windows.

[Wraithblade6]

Music: http://youtu.be/sBo52--2XU4 Route 40 flew by beneath his wheels as the ex-soldier agent rode a shiny black motorcycle westward toward Oklahoma City. Mithias loved the open road, and out here in the great plains of the Midwest was the best driving in the world. The air smelled so clean. So much land and sky around him seemed untouched by civilization. It was invigorating. The longer he rode, the farther back the war seemed, leaving his dead past behind him. He had left SOLDIER and relocated to another home, yet it wasn't his only one. A vampire with any experience knew the importance of obscurity, he had to be able to vanish from the watchful spies of human society. Even Mithais had his secrets. The engine rumbled comfortably onward. Soon, once near the city, Mithias would enact his plan. With any luck, his performance would pay off. If not, then there would be no loss. This would work. He knew. He just felt it. Somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, a tone sounded in his helmet. Who would be calling him? Mithias glanced at the blinking light on his dashboard for a long moment, and jsut as the call was about to be lost, he flipped the switch. "Would this be a Mithias Varomere I am speaking to, one from the Elite branch of SOLIDER?" Magnus asked. Mithias lagged on the accelerator and stared ahead as he tried to recall the owner of that voice. He couldn't. "...To whom am I speaking?"

[Shikaru]

Magnus tapped his claws across the desk impatiently as Mithias took all the time in the world to answer him, he almost gave up. Who did this younger vampire think he was to waste his time, Gabriel? He was just about to turn off his phone when he answered. Magnus grinned at the obvious pause in between answering him, every one of his sharp pointed teeth glistening in the light of the room. "Some call me Insane, Others a psycopath, while I am not inclined to disagree, that is not my name." He said with a chuckle. "I suppose there would be no harm in telling you my name, you're speaking to Magnus, you know the one with Shane on the end? The one that orchastrated the little fiasco at Kilo Point? Anywho, enough about me, back to you and the reason I called. You're probably wondering how I even have your number, let's just say everything has a price, and they were all to willing to sell the intel." Magnus got up from his chair and began slowly pacing the room, "I'll allow you a few moments to let what I just told you sink in before continuing, don't want to give you a heart attack you know?"

[Wraithblade6]

Mithias slammed on the breaks and cut off the road. Throwing the machine in park, he placed his feet on the ground and turned off his engine. He knew it was the real Magnus. Nobody at SOLDIER would fuck with him like this, and he knew Rhyss's voice. Nonetheless, someone had sold out to Magnus' benefit, putting Mithias at risk. He was furious, and at the same time, curious. "You're a sick animal, Magnus. What do you want?"

[Shikaru]

Magnus chuckled at the sound of the tires screeching on the pavement, exactly the reaction he wanted, and said "Why thank you, I try. Anywho, back to you and the reason why I took time off my busy schedule of ripping out the hearts of my enemies. You know your beloved SOLDIER? The one you're loyal as a dog to? Well, for some reason they no longer trust you, Nor this Rhyss Blackblade fellow. The Purge invading and destroying everything in sight? That was their doing. Why do you think they stationed so many elites there? Namely you two." "They know you're too powerful for them to control forever, they no longer trusted you, therefore they told the Purge of the location of a few vampires they wanted disposed of, again, you and this Rhyss fellow. Isn't it also so very wonderful they also sold me access to very compromising and sensitive info for a threat and a few million?"

[Wraithblade6]

Mithias placed a hand to the side of his helmet unconsciously as he tried to digest what he was hearing. Magnus was saying that SOLDIER had sold out on their Elites, the vampires who risked their immortal lives killing their own kind to protect innocent humans, that SOLDIER had known all along what would happen at Kilo Point, and that they had planned for the Purge to attack. Could that have been the reason Magnus had simultaneously attacked as well? Had the mad vampire Shane intended not to fight SOLDIER, but to counter the Purge all along? Mithias' mind whirled with broken logic as to who was getting what out of that insane battle. It was a suspicion he had had for a while now, since two opposing armies both attacking a SOLDIER base simultaneously seemed very improbable. Regardless, at the present moment, it was clear Magnus was trying to sway him, and we all know how intensely Mithias Varomere valued his agency. "Even if what you are telling me is true, Magnus, I've already left SOLDIER, for my own reasons. I'm well aware of the inevitable corruption in large scale human organizations, but it doesn't justify the murder and enslavement of all humanity. I don't need SOLDIER's support to hunt you down and kill you. I will find out soon enough what the truth is."

[Wraithblade6]

"Your nights are numbered, Magnus." Mithias ended the call, turning the phone off. Things were indeed screwed up if Magnus Shaen could simply call Elite agents. How many had he already convinced to join him?? Mithias growled quietly under his helm. Without Elites, SOLDIER wouldn't be able to function, and now, thanks to Magnus, word would get out that many of them had been contacted by the rebel leader. SOLDIER would have no choice but to distrust its former few vampire allies. They would be discharged, expelled, and possibly even hunted, regardless of their convictions. Magnus had single handedly, with a mere cellphone, dismantled the immortal core of the only agency capable of law enforcement. Mithias heart beat fast with realization, and he blinked in horror. It was the bloody Inquisition all over again. His own recent resignation from SOLDIER was also highly suspicious and would make him a prime target, and there was nothing he could do about it. And just as before, some seven centuries ago, Mithias again sought his sire. There would be no point in attempting to face the wars of the world alone, not after having to be rescued from the bring of death, but perhaps together with Gabriel... There would be some kind of hope. That was where he belonged, by his father's side, from now on to heed his wisdom. Sanity may just have to take a back seat. That sexy engine revved as Mithias got back on the road, speeding toward the city. ... Late afternoon was broaching evening as the soon-to-be wanted vampire curised into downtown. He was going to have to make this quick. Parking the bike, he took from it a small case and a speaker and some wires. Setup was easy on a populated street corner, as he only had, himself, the speaker, and an instrument. Fortunately, nearly none of the American humans had any idea what Mithias Varomere looked like, yet. They probably would tomorrow. Using the bike as a powersource, Mithias hooked in the wires and took off his leather jacket. He was wearing an ornate suit, one fitting for a frivolous vampire, and fit for show. Surely it was expensive. Out of the case, he took an electric violin. Ah! He was a street performer! One or two humans took pause for the opportunity to scrutinize his intro. So, a vampire wished to entertain them? This might be worth watching. Making use of tech, Mithias began something like this. First song: Secrets, http://youtu.be/czkJYLqylzs He followed with a few songs: http://youtu.be/PAbwgPEW4dk Still seeing no sign of the specific person whos attention he sought, he played an other song, one more pointed by its title. The name would be triggered in the memories of the humans who knew it. That, and coupled with the recognizable vision of Mithias, there was a chance it would work. Gabriel's Oboe: http://youtu.be/TgUXUEZS118 Mithias looked at the small crowd. He got some applause and people were putting small change into his violin case as a gesture more than anything. He raised his arm once more, thinking of what to play next.

[akje]

A lone car drove down the american highway. The driver concealed behind plastic covers. The sun had sunk to the point where a plastic screen was lowered to combat it's sharp rays. The radio gently produced melodies to drown out the monotonous drone of an engine that should have retired years ago. With a gentle nudge at the wheel the car signaled a right turn to no one in particular. The old car slowed down and left the highway for less traveled roads.

Kilo Point, 6 Miles.

The car crept down a ruined road, traces of guns and fire, tracks of tanks. Once close enough to see the ravaged remains of a city as close to death as the vampires that roam it, the driver got out of his car. Calmly and collected, like in a single calculated movement. The copper bell dangled from his hat silently. He fished the phone from his pocked at holding it up to his mouth like an old radio microphone. "Call home..." A whisper, followed by a dial tone. "I'm here," Martin said as he gazed at the destruction in the valley before him, a grin spreading across his lips. "And oh dear, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late."

[thewizardguy]

Mathew smiled brightly, as he took the cup off the table, refusing to sit down. "I love mysteries. I really do. But you know what I really hate? I hate easy answers. I'm of a mind that my friend the Collector would agree with me." Mathew places both his hands on the table, looking around at the two figures present. "There is no reason to believe the true Collector would present himself anywhere near me, more so if he has any clue who I am and what I am planning. So How come every step of the way I find one practically being thrown at my face? No, you two are diversions, you're too obvious, you're too plain. I don't even believe you're an old-blood." Mathew gestures at the vampire, mild annoyance crossing his face. "We're going to talk, of that you can be sure. But what we'll be discussing isn't business. It's the identity of the Collector. I'd like you fine gentlemen to help me brainstorm, even in your apparent unwitting stupidity." Mathew takes a sip, before throwing the cup across the room, disgusted. "Sweet Mary, what is that stuff? Liquid tar?" He sighs, before straightening out his suit. "Excuse me, I do tend to get a bit excited. You must understand. It isn't often I find a mystery so hard to crack, or a person so hard to find. Finding people is my thing, and to find someone even close to my level of skill is rather... rare. I believe your little Collector here is one of the few people who may match my understanding of the world, and as such someone whom I would like to share a rather lucrative business offer with." The old man began to speak, only to have Mathew kick over his chair, disinterested. "Not now, you old fart. I was talking to those who can still remember their names. Hopefully, that doesn't rule out you, as well?" Mathew directs a poignant glare at the vampire. "Or at least, whatever name you choose to go by now."

[thewizardguy]

A smile, and a slow clap from the audience. Tall and lanky as ever, Gabriel seemed to simply emerge from the small crowd that had gathered around Mithias. A smile lit his face, reaching from ear to ear. A row of bladed teeth, interlocking into a jaw that would be more befitting of a shark than a vampire. To Mithias, however, no shadow hid the ever-charming lines of Gabriel's face, the illusions that had secured Gabriel's image in the minds of the less protected fading before Mithias' gaze. Under the brim of the top hat was not a pair of bright glowing dots, nor were Gabriel's eyes at all red. His face was not smooth and inhuman, as it appeared to those with more open minds. It was rather a human face, covered in the drawn lines of a man who had seen many things. His skin was pale, but not extremely so - had it not been for his teeth, Gabriel could almost have passed for human. However, one more thing marred his appearance. A long scar ran over his face, something in between a slash and a burn, disfiguring what must once have been a handsome face. It was a mark that never healed, even with the healing factor of a vampire. It had been there as long as Mithias could remember, and presumably long before he had been born. Gabriel would not speak of it, nor would he explain how he had gained this mark. However, undoubtedly, it had been one of the few brushes with death Gabriel had experienced. "It seems like there are things I haven't seen after all, even in my lifetime. My boy, you could play? How dare you never have shown your old man before now, I'm practically insulted!" Gabriel chuckled, as he marched forward, the humans scattering and returning to whatever had previously occupied their empty and meaningless lives. With a simple gesture of thought, Gabriel reached into their minds, plucking out all memory of the event. They would not remember having seen him, or having watched a street performer dressed in leather. "And all this just to find me? You'd think humble old me were someone important. A celebrity, perhaps? Come, come, we have much to talk about. I hear you left SOLDIER? I thought you'd never leave them behind you." Turning, Gabriel started up the street, erasing the memories of any who would even look in his direction, effectively invisible to the world.

[thewizardguy]

Kilo point was a flaming mess. The fires had long since burned down, but still groups of SOLDIER operatives walked the streets, attempting to pile the corpses. Purge, vampire, SOLDIER, they all lay together in piles, covered in those they had slain. Hundreds had fallen here, and the death had tainted the very air, every breathe drawing in the remains of a hundred bodies, fine ash mingled with the wind. Lives ripped to pieces, armies crushed beneath the undiscriminating foot of war. Now, only SOLDIER remained here to clean up the mess, burying their soldiers - or whatever remained of them - and burning the rest. The Purge weren't even granted an honorary burial, piled on the great fires together with the vampires they in life had so despised. The vampires had retreated, having simply run out of newbloods to throw in front of the hail of bullets and arrows fired by their mortal enemies. The Purge had moved on, their crusade burning a new path across the country, leaving only death in their wake. SOLDIER was divided, unsure of what to do and assaulted on all sides by political criticism. The country was falling apart, and those with wealth and power were already laying claim to the remains. Here lay Kilo Point, the first of many to come, a warning of future battles.

[akje]

Here we are, don't turn away now, we are the warriors that built this town. The off-pitch metalic sound of a phone that's been trough more than any phone ever should valiantly resounded trough Magnus's Lair. It was his phone after all. Here we are, don't turn away now, we are the warriors that built this town from dust. He'd obviously know by the specific ringtone It'd be Hale calling. He probably already knew everything Hale would tell him, he'd probably tell him about how the mission to Canada was a success. How he had the beginnings of a fresh wolf army wrapped up and ready to go. And it wouldn't surprise anyone, especially not Magnus, if Hale had found something stupid and explosive. This time will come when you will have to rise, Above the best and prove yourself your spirit never dies. Chances Hale had anything to say Magnus wouldn't expect were small indeed. No, the main argument towards picking up the phone was to smother that damn ringtone.

[The Grey Dust]

The Earl Grey. Early in the morning. "Why I Ne-" The old man was silenced with a wave of a hand from his vampire associate. "Good question Mathew Stone Esquire." The fanged one spoke to Mathew directly now. "Ask yourself, who is the Collector?" Proxies and patsies, this was how the world operated. Stone should know this, unless he had really been so egotistic to believe Bedivere would make an appearance here in London this early in the morning. Far from it, any real business would be conducted in Wales anyways. Coming to London was the first mistake, or perhaps the first step. What would come of this meeting? Certainly a death. It was planned after all. Staged even, and all the men involved actors for the dark lord. "Did you expect Sire to be present? No, you are still far too human for him despite your accomplishments. In the long game, a knight is worth far less on the board as the pieces clear up, one by one. And you shall be left with naught but an empire of ash and sand for all you have done as on the table and at it. But I am not here to teach you lessons in humility. I come bearing you not one, but two offers from the Collector himself." Let those words sink in, as the vampire takes a jab at Mathew's mortality. "He proposes the following terms: One, for Mathew Stone esquire to be offered the dark gift of night if they are to ever meet such that then they could truly be counted as equals. Two, for Mathew Stone esquire to become a suitable replacement for the current incarnation of the Collector." With those words, the Old Man's eyes widened, today may be the day he died. It was signed in the contract, that as he inherited from the last collector, he too would forfeit his life when the terms came to an end as the vampire produced a briefcase and from it a parcel of ancient papers signed by the last dozen collectors. "A generous offer do you not think so Mister Stone? Had I not been a vampire myself, I would accept both in your stead. But the Sire was very clear the offer extended to you, and you only. I would strongly suggest accepting it." For your life depended upon it. Making enemies is hardly a good thing to do in today's modern world. All a part of Bedivere's schemes of course. Mathew Stone as the collector would draw attention from him for some time, and allow him to plan his vampire assault on France.

[Shikaru]

Magnus both grinned at the young vampires arrogance, and grimaced at his rudeness when he so abruptly ended the call. It simply amused him that the boy thought he stood a chance. He sat back down in the chair in front of the camera's and in front of the computer, shifting aimlessly through files. He wondered just how much he said really bothered the boy, and how long it would take for the media to find out about the government selling out to a vampire seeking war with them. His phone then started ringing and vibrating on the metal desk he had laid it on beside the computer. To start with he tried ignoring the ringtone in favor of shifting through the files for more intel, a few moments later, that damned thing was still playing. He snatched it up and flipped it open. "What? What the /hell/ do you want? Oh...Hale...Sorry, you just interrupted me while I was busy. What is it? Good news I hope?" Magnus said with a grin as he finished speaking.

[akje]

"Yes! Yes! Lots a good news! Liiiitle bit of bad." the crackling voice of Hale answered. Reception was never quite great when Hale called. The only guy in the country to use Nokia's as burner phones. A bunch of animalistic noises could be heard in the background. "So I managed to convince a couple of different packs to join you. That is, they are willing to listen to you if it means they no longer have to listen to me." Hale sounded slightly proud of his apparent skill to bother his kin. "So long story short I have 3 large coach busses full of rabid monsters!" These words were followed with more rough noises and Hales muffled voice shouting "It's a compliment!" A few seconds later he seemed to have regained controll over the phone. "Right! *pant* Also, *pant* on the way we ran into some of your vamper fanboys, yes you seem to have those, so we picked them up as well." "..." "All in all I have 5 busses full of ready soldiers for your war. Aught to be fun. Lastly there's the bad news... All of the busses broke down, can you come pick me up?"

[thewizardguy]

"An offer of servitude isn't an offer at all." Mathew smiled, as he sat down, finally. "But then again, this is a last-ditch offer. Someone got too close, potentially it's seen as some kind of test. With the kind of knowledge I have, I'm a threat. Now, I was unaware that the Collector was such a racist, I'm honestly kind of offended." He pulls out a tablet, as he places it in the middle of the table. "On a side note, do you have any idea how hard it is to buy nuclear weaponry?" The Tablet displayed, in large block numbers, a timer. A countdown, seemingly counting down from the three minute mark. "I mean, there's an incredibly strict guidance on nuclear waste nowadays. All the materials you'll need are locked away, behind rows upon rows of guards. And up there, people have already been checked for anything that could be used to blackmail them. Getting a mole in that high in the government is a serious problem, with high risks." Mathew sighs, shrugging, knowing he'd suddenly garnered their attention. "Now, I don't know much about the Collector, but I know he doesn't care about you two. In fact, I'd garner that you don't care about you. A thrall, maybe. But even if you did care about you, threatening you is mostly pointless. Hell, you're probably not even important. Instead, I'm going to threaten the one thing he knows he likes." Mathew stands up, as he turns away, leaving the tablet behind. "Lucy, if I make it out of this building alive, please do halt the countdown. If I don't, obliterate the entirety of Britain. If I'm to die here, I'd like that I go out with a bang." [Yes, sir. Setting course now. Deploying sabotage orders for AMC batteries. Deploying countersignals. Deploying orders for Project Wipeout. All preparations have been completed.] "Thank you, Lucy. That will be all." Smiling, Mathew waves at the vampire and the old man. "I might be bluffing, of course. Hell, I'm amazing at bluffing. Your call, my friends. Hope you can handle the responsibility." Everyone had something they cared about. Even a fellow as mysterious as the Collector, and even a mindless thrall. Everyone could be threatened, could be coerced, could be forced. The trick was to find it, and to put a gun to it's head. Operation Wipeout was to initiate were he to die, an action that would instantly set all his assets towards the complete and utter liquidation of Brittain, economical and physical. It was one of many contingency plans he had developed, to be activated moments before entering situations much like this. It did pay to be prepared.

[Grombus]

The entirety of London was a breeding ground for disease, which made it a perfect place for Void. The sewers so easily accessible, allowed access to almost the entirety of London's water supply, "How easy it was to spread disease in this new world" Void chuckled to himself "They think everything is sanitized, everyone is safe, hilarious". Void sighed contently, looking around he spotted quite a few hosts for a new plague he was cooking up, this one was his favorite in the past few centuries. "Cerebral hemorrhaging, internal bleeding, vomiting, so many wonderful things!" turning on his heel Void spun around and grabbed a brown, fat, and all around ugly rat. "You and I are going to be the best of friends!" he cooed to the rodent. Void grabbed the blade hanging at his side, he unsheathed it and brought it to his wrist, Void forced his wrist into the rat's mouth causing it to drink his infected blood now trickling from the wound. The rat convulsed and fell to ground squirming in pain, Void tossed the rat into the flowing water, the rat desperately trying to stay afloat started vomiting up its organs, first came the liver, then the stomach, not long after followed the tiny intestines. Void giggled gleefully to himself, the other rats now drinking the infected water soon became hosts for the new virus. Void decided it was time to leave and let London crumble in on itself, once weakened he would have a bit more fun. Void left through the manhole he had entered through, the sun shined down on him causing him only mild annoyance. He decided it was time to find a new plaything, vampires were usually the most fun. Skipping joyfully down the empty street he searched high and low looking for a playmate. The run down houses around him were long abandoned, so he took it upon himself to give them a cause, each house had its own set of ingredients for fun concoctions, asbestos, mold, and any assortment of chemicals he could get his hands on. He walked past his tick breeding house, down the long street towards the center of town, surely someone fun would be there.

[Wraithblade6]

Just as the bow was about to grace the strings once more, Mithias froze. Across the frets, a tall and slender image came into his focus, white gloves coming together in applause. He blinked in surprise and lowered his arms. It had actually worked. Gabriel had heard his call and had awarded his artistic gesture by showing up. It was almost too good to be true. Mithias couldn't help but smile as his keen eyes took in every wrinkle on his maker's features, and he shook his head almost disbelievingly. His initial joy however, transitioned to a more serious and contemplative expression as he looked upon Gabriel with renewed sight. The scar. It had been there the hundreds of times he had ever looked before, but now, its meaning was so much more painfully clear. Gabriel too had once long ago narrowly escaped death, and would forever be marked by it. Perhaps now Mithais could finally understand. In that brief moment, the younger vampire silently reflected at how Gabriel had undoubtedly been changed by the experience. Who had he ever been before? ... He dared not ask about it. As Gabriel chuckled, Mithias gave an antique bow in gratitude. "You flatter me, father." He set his instrument down and as he did so, he continued casually, "But I would play for you forever as long as you would tolerate it. I no longer hold to the same closeminded ideals I once did." He followed beside the aged master. This conversation was long overdue. --- "Yes. I have indeed left SOLDIER. I cannot abide a power that would further the prison I had confined myself to, that would demand I hunt and kill my own blood... It is all such a waste of time and a purposeless diversion. You saved my life, father. I owe you more than I could ever repay, and I've come to you to do what I should have done ages ago. I wish to repay you, to follow in your footsteps, and to learn from you. When I believed myself on the brink of oblivion, my eyes were opened. No longer will I dare to judge you." Mithias folded his arms behind him as he walked, his expression humble. "I am not worthy, father, but I am, yours. Would you teach me?"

[akje]

((This scene has Mithias playing more violin in the background, therefore this scene has a great soundtrack)) Martin sauntered down the broken body of a dieying titan. The streets of Kilo Point it's limbs, the town square it's heart. Kilo Point was bleeding out. Martin saw SOLDIERs trying to asses the damage, but it was clear their spirit was crushed as could be seen in their eyes. For their eyes reflected the ever growing pile of wasted life, burning in the evening sun. Though Martin knew how to escape from sight, he couldn't escape the scent from the charred pire. In other streets however, the streets that had already been cleaned, barely any sign of struggle could be seen. While the scent of ash and blood lingered, the streets shone brightly, people were going about their day. It struck Martin that, there was always going to be a new day. Stopping to regard a street musicians mesmerising performance Martin stood and pondered who the losers and winners were here. The vampires? Once could argue they lost the battle, but the same could be said of SOLDIER, or the Purge. All factions had suffered massive loss, and yet, all had achieved their goals to some extend. This was far from over. But one thing was clear to Martin, the public would endure. It's not their resolve, their technology or even their humanity that gives the common folk their edge, it's their mortallity. Our lifespans are so short, that we are actually capable of forgetting the horrors of the nights before, and move on. Something I doubt I'll ever see in a vampire. There will always be innocent humans to rebuild in the aftermath. Time and time again, the meek will inherrit the world. For now, it was time for Martin to get to work. There was a lot to be done. So he was off to the titan's head: SOLDIER HQ.