[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200603/ff082b4f376eb0b3cac1d7bd7a9c5c01.png[/img] ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ [sub]collab with [@Ezekiel][/sub] [/center] [i]You turn me on You lift me up Like the sweetest cup I'd share with you You lift me up Don't you ever stop, I'm here with you Now it's all or nothing 'Cause you say you'll follow through You follow me, and i, i, I follow you[/i] Slowly Nicole’s body slipped under the warm water. Deeper. The coolness of her pale skin covered by the contrasting temperature of the liquid until the back of her head touched the bottom of the tub. Eyes closed. Mind slowing. The world outside was, for the moment, non-existent. This had gone on for more than a half hour. And why not? Vampires did not need to breathe. It was sometimes more of an act of courtesy to their human counterparts, but otherwise unnecessary to Kindred. The woman simply remained submerged, allowing the water to essentially wash away the dirt from her body, but also hoping to cleanse the disjointed memories of the last few weeks. She found herself in deep thought, something that didn’t happen much in her busy mortal years, with very little downtime to contemplate the finer things. But, now it felt as though [i]time[/i] was all there was for a creature who allegedly lived forever. Simple Minds’ [i]“Alive and Kicking”[/i] continued to permeate from the radio in the bedroom, as the soothing, melodic vocals of James Kerr melted into the chorus: [i]What you gonna do when things go wrong? What you gonna do when it all cracks up? What you gonna do when the love burns down? What you gonna do when the flames go up? Who is gonna come and turn the tide? What's it gonna take to make a dream survive? Who's got the touch to calm the storm inside? Who's gonna save you?[/i] It was the same series of questions she asked herself, in a roundabout way. As a human police officer for the Los Angeles PD, she had an identity. She had a purpose. She was the shield, the adjudicator at times, the enforcer of laws that perhaps she didn’t always agree with whole-heartedly, but kept close to her heart nevertheless. However it had always felt like things were unbalanced in the world. Laws were broken on a daily -some worse than others- and yet what laws were there to keep these supernatural creatures in check? Sure, the Kindred for one had their own laws and [i]Traditions[/i], but was it enough to keep a shadowy society of vampires from doing whatever the hell they wanted? Not a chance. But, Nicole hoped that she would not succumb to the darkness beyond what she could handle. Eva shed enough of a light on the underground world and its denizens that the Gangrel wondered if she there would be any hope of a future for her. Was there a fit somewhere in the puzzle? The question of her Sire continued to ring true in her mind though. The bearded and tattooed biker who apparently had watched for her for quite some time before deciding to embrace. And who were these others that had taken him away? Eva mentioned a sect known as “Sabbat” who were most likely the culprits, and perhaps Nicole’s sire was somehow caught up with them. It was a bad enough blow to the Camarilla that the Gangrel defected from their centuries-old Sect, but to have joined up with the polar opposite would have been quite the middle finger. Although, from what the neonate derived over the last few weeks since being [i]reborn[/i], her clan was not as stupid and reckless as they were perceived by others to be. They simply longed to be free. A sentiment Nicole could understand. The sudden vibrations felt through the porcelain enameled steel tub rocked the woman out of her reverie as her body lurched forward with such ferocity that water flew everywhere in the bathroom, spilling over onto the floor. Nicole instinctively reached for a firearm that was not there, but rather a memory of keeping her Beretta Model 92 on a small table next to her tub in her apartment. However, she quickly realized no table or gun existed, which made her smirk, as she sat for a moment curious about the tremor. Earthquakes weren’t unusual in that part of California, however, it certainly felt different and more abrupt. She stood up, throwing a towel onto the wet floor before stepping across and wrapping herself in a fresh white towel. At that moment, supernatural hearing picked up sounds of distressed voices from the hallway outside of her room. Several of them, as though whatever had happened was most unusual. “The fuck…?” She mumbled, first glancing outside her window, which overlooked a good portion of the city, but she saw nothing from that vantage point. Nicole then opened the door and peeked out into the hallway, watching as a few of the Sunset’s guests headed toward the elevator, some carrying luggage. “What’s going on?” The Gangrel asked an elderly couple as they passed. “You don’t want to be here, miss.” The man hissed, his yellowed fangs faintly showing as anger and fear washed over him. “It...isn’t safe anymore.” His companion hurried them both a long down the hall and around a corner, and within moments the corridor was empty. “Not safe?...” She closed the door and leaned against it, unsure of her next move other than to get dressed and hope Henry had an answer for her. She rang the concierge’s desk, which didn’t pickup at first, but apparently forwarded to another number who she supposed would be Henry. Henry was cast from one inferno to the other. The wave of rage burning brighter than any natural flame receded from his mind. It was still out there, but he forced himself from it. A problem for another time. No point worrying about the world and losing track of what was right before you. He ripped his eyes from the Sea once more, the almost endless Sunset ocean, to face the onrushing storm. The Lounge’s position in the upper reaches of the Hollywood hills earned it an amazing view, and a position as something of an escape from the bustle of the city for those who would miss it after only a few hours away. It also meant that a fire of this intensity, already so close, had a more than small chance of sweeping over the grounds before the great churning machine of private and public fire services would be able to act effectively. The initial heatwave that had followed the explosion was long gone, but the latent air itself was starting to rise with a heat that would be uncomfortable for a human, borderline horrifying for a kindred. Neither concerns plagued Henry as he moved towards the Lounge, pausing only to assist an individual, burned, but not badly, from the heat blast out of the water, instructing them on a likely route to safety, before finishing his journey to the Lounge proper, stepping through a shattered glass door. He paused as he realised no alarm was going off. People were panicking, moving about quickly, but no one seemed to have thought to put much effort into warning anyone else. “Bloody LA.” He murmured, before striking a fire alarm as he vaulted over the bar, landing in time to do this, then lift his phone to his ear as the tone blared at him. The number was tied to a room, one he quickly identified as that given over to Eva’s latest project. “Nicole, this is Henry. There’s a fire, it’s bad. I need you to find something thick and heavy, enough to keep light out. Don’t matter about wrecking my furniture, I’ll put it on Eva’s tab.” Despite himself, he added the joke, diving into the staff area behind the bar, motioning for those of his more serious staff who were still in place to get a move on. No last stands here. “Once you’ve found that, bring what you can carry and meet me on the roof.” He didn’t wait for the response, not because he wouldn’t have, but as he spoke, a tremendous wooden creak resounded through the air, followed by a series of crashes. Further screams went up from those still on the property. Henry didn’t wait to see what was occurring, pocketing his phone, no longer caring if it rang further, before he continued to descend into the staff area. The door to his office was locked with a biometric device artfully hidden as a simple keypad, something of a project ‘on loan’ from the Technocracy. It wasn’t too precise a technology, but for the difference between Henry and any other being that might seek entry, you didn’t exactly need precision. His hand hit the handle and the mechanism released, swinging wide for him. The office was largely bare, a duffle bag resting on a desk, readied for just an occasion such as this. The large bag contained several firearms and ammunition, but more importantly, a series of physical journals and burner phones he would really rather keep a hold of. Swinging the straps over one shoulder, he turned to regard the wall. The only thing that might be considered a decoration in the otherwise barren space glared back at him. A blade, simple in design, but not material, was mounted to the wall, the silvered blade bound by a golden hilt. With a sigh, he removed it, sliding it into a harness found beneath the desk, before casting it over the other shoulder. Finally, he set back out into the Lounge. The heat was more intense now, the crackle of flame starting to fall easily within human hearing, the crashing becoming more common as the fires on the hilltops dislodged trees and earth to cascade down into the street as an almost molten landslide. Beside him, one of the elevators dinged. He turned to face it with a scowl. “Take. The. Fucking. Stairs.” He found time to berate the socialites that tumbled out in a panic, momentarily halted by the stern discipline that met them, perhaps the first time in their shallow lives anyone had actually expected them to stick to a rule, but before this could blow their minds too much, Henry was moving, taking the stairs upwards at a jog. He really hoped Nicole would have made it up there first, despite the lack of harm it might truly do him, he didn’t relish the thought of hunting through a burning building looking for an enraged kindred, his eyes flicking to the windows to check on the progress of the fire down the hillside towards the Lounge. The barrage of words on the other end of the phone from Henry certainly didn’t instill a calm within the Gangrel. If anything, her already heightened awareness only increased as sounds and smells became even more pronounced. Even with the mention of a “fire”, the scent of a woodland brushfire suddenly caught her attention, and even a deep-seated anxiety could be felt forming in the pit of her otherwise empty stomach. Was this what Eva had warned her about all those weeks ago when going through the finer points of living as a creature who had no business walking amongst humans? Nicole always imagined something so different from myths about supernatural creatures, being the all-powerful monsters that they were. [i]Lions amongst sheep[/i], as it were. But on a deeper level, she also wondered if they were at more of a risk of dying away from the endless wars against kindred. “But what abo-” She had no time to respond as the man said his peace in a very short amount of time, and the call was done, leaving Nicole fairly frustrated but with no other choice than to do as instructed. According to Eva, Henry Locke was to be trusted, even with her very life. Pocketing the cell phone, the woman’s eyes darted around the hotel room for something that she could use. It took but a moment for Nicole to realize what Henry was alluding to however, and quickly yanked the thick quilted comforter from the bed, unsure if it was really what was needed. However, if it was a matter of keeping any possible sunlight from hitting her skin, then that would do for now. Without wasting another moment, she quickly dressed in the dark clothes she arrived in, hoping to get something different once shit starts to settle. There were only so many days that she could deal with skinny jeans, leather boots, and a motorcycle jacket, which was probably less her usual wardrobe anyway. Perhaps cargo pants, comfy sneakers, and even tank tops that smelled less like diesel fuel. Either way, she had very little else to bring with her, and quickly ran out the door and down the hallway, passing by others who decided it best to cram into the elevators during an emergency situation. But with a half folded up queen-size comforter with an ornate repeating floral pattern printed onto it, Nicole went through the door leading to the stairway, and prompted headed for the rooftop lounge. She only hoped that she would survive yet another night. By the time Henry had made his way through the Lounge, fighting against the movement of the crowd to the fire exits, more time had passed than he was comfortable with. The wall of flame picked out in the depths of Night a crescendo of contrast, matched only by the blazing lights of Los Angeles in the distance. Most of the guests would have made it out before the threat would sweep to close, at least, he hoped so, despite his opinion of many. Nicole had beaten him to the rooftop lounge, as he’d anticipated, and he beelined for her, shifting the large bag across his shoulders to the ground. He withdrew a large bottle of water, before coming to a halt beside her, placing hands on both of her shoulders, forcing her attention to him. “Do not look at the fire, especially as it draws close. Blanket on.” He moved to seize the heavy covers before holding them over the Kindred, turning her into every cartoon’s idea of a basic Halloween costume, minus the eyes. That would have made the whole thing rather moot. For added bonus, he tipped the bottle of cold water over her. He wasn’t sure if it would do any good, but theoretically the sensation would help delay, if never halt, the beast within her. He mumbled an apology for the indignance, before taking a few steps back to his duffle bag. A red flare gun was pulled from within the confines, and pointed to the sky. “Come on, you buggers.” He half snarled, before firing, the sky momentarily alight with a bright red flash carried high into the air above him, lasting but a few moments before being lost against the building background roar of the forest fire. It was starting to reach the very first buildings, joining the treefall landslide as they too collapsed under the impetus of flame. “Focus on my voice, nothing else.” Henry carried on speaking as he returned to the female Kindred, one hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “Not the one in your head.”