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The desert flew by him as he took the lonely road into the bleak landscape outside the city. Harlow had never liked cities, they felt too cramped, too claustrophobic, there were too many eyes around to watch. Even so, they were just another part of life that he accepted and wouldn't let get in his way, and now the bleak orange desert of the Californian landscape whizzed by him on either side bordered only by the thin strip of back pavement that served as the highway. The three vehicles in the convoy had split up before reaching the very edge of the city and had only recently just met back up. That ploy was to throw off anyone who might have been following them without them knowing. Splitting up meant keeping the prize they had sacrificed a wolf for safer so they did that, fortunately when they had come back together at their rendezvous point, nobody had followed them.

Harlow had gotten to that point first, the last service station within a hundred miles of San Francisco, he could see the lights on the horizon from there as he leaned against his bike while he waited for the others to show. Thinking he probably had a few minutes he went ahead and made a call. The queen had ordered him to deploy her decree which he had no problems in doing. He called up a few analyst to get a list together of every sect and tribe and known clan under and outside the Queen's command. As soon as they had it compiled, Harlow would officially send the order and then it was open season on any lycan that didn't fall under those conditions. Harlow smiled grimly to himself as he thought about all the poor saps who would overthrow their masters out of fear and ally themselves to Natasha...there were bound to be quite a few in this world.

Soon the pack was back together and back on the road, another hour of riding put them well outside San Francisco and into the wilderness where the only noise besides the wind was the loud engine of Alex's car and the throaty roar of Harlow's bike. The landscape began to bump and hill until on one side mountains were seen, soon after this, the pack found a fork in the highway where the entrance to the separating path was blocked by a huge white sign that read "United States Government Property, No Trespassing" And underneath in finer print was a warning about violators being shot on sight. There were many government owned lands out in these deserts but this was not one of them, the ploy was perfect, with this sign in place no curious human would know of the Den's secret entrance. Harlow moved the sign aside and allowed the others to pass, coming in behind them after he had placed it back on the road and then getting back in front of the convoy before making it to the mountains ahead.

Another several minutes driving down the small road through the mountains revealed the heavily fortified entrance of the valley on the other side. The fortress might as well have been a military compound for its concrete constructs and steel frames, it was a lot less pleasing to the eye than the mansion in Prague was but then again it was more safe than that building could ever be. Harlow was never surprised to feel a bit of awe at how strong the Den looked from the entrance down in the bowl of the alley it sat in. He could already make out the patrolling guards near the gates and gun towers that hung above it. As they came closer, more details of these men became clear, each was wearing a set of combat gear and held assault weapons. Each had the air and look of a trained killer in their stance that Harlow knew well, and he knew it because he had trained them...

After the battle of the mansion it became clear to the Queen that the Lycan kind was facing a war for its survival, as such, her men needed to be more than simple wolves with guns and thugs, when needed an army, a trained one and that was where Harlow came in. Although he didn't like the fact that he was the one who had to do it he saw it as necessary as well and offered no resistance to being put in charge. His past military experience became invaluable as he spent months teaching the wolves under Natasha's command how to become better fighters, he had then sent his best performing students out across the world to teach the other tribes dedicated to the queen how to properly fight in a modern context. It was hard work but after a year of training around the clock, Natasha had her own private army ready to fight for her on every corner of the globe. Hell, even Alex had pitched in, teaching some of the wolves how to sneak and be stealthy while Katherine had even given some tips on how to operate vehicles. All together it was an accomplishment that though he would never admit it, Harlow was proud of and that feeling came to him whenever he saw one of the geared wolves on the prowl around the base, knowing that he had helped to make them into what they were.

The convoy pulled up to the front gate, Harlow gave the guard a nod who also nodded wordlessly and motioned for the wolf in the guard tower to throw the switch that opened the thick gate. The convoy drove in and soon they neared the main entrance to the Den, walking past more guards who were filing out, probably for more training exercises somewhere on the grounds. From the outside the Den looked for all intents and purposes like a large military base but on the inside were all the comforts and luxuries one would expect of royalty. Harlow and his pack made their way into a lobby where one of the compound's many servants waited. Harlow looked behind him quickly to make sure that Alex had the case, he did, it was just a small habit to double check. That made him think about how lucky they had been, it was only by virtue of the location of that hand off earlier that Harlow and Alex were able to snatch it so easily, a dozen wolves could have easily lost their lives if it were anywhere else but by great good fortune it happened in San Francisco.

Harlow gave the servant a look and spoke.

"Tell her majesty we have arrived and await her audience." Harlow said as formally as he could muster while taking his hat off. It always did well to show respect in front of Natasha. Though at first it had annoyed him to do so, he now found it easier to act in such away around her, she was quite a powerful presence in any room and he was under no illusions of his own superiority. The truth was he didn't have a problem working for something as long as the cause was strong and Natasha definitely qualified as such. The servant nodded and left the room quickly and wordlessly.

"So whats in the case?" One of the wolves asked.

"Don't know." Alex said simply.

"You don't know? We just lost a good wolf because of it and you don't know whats inside of it?!" The wolf asked indignantly, that's when Harlow turned on him.

"You think I would put you in harm's way to get nothing?!" He snarled, the other wolf was cowed by the sudden nip.

"Well..." He said lamely.

"Then don't insult me by saying you do." Harlow finished and waited on an answer from his message.

Mordoskul wrote:Muahaha, I'm going to kill you all but not before I torture you senseless.

I think that this sums up all of Mordo's posts, its just that he puts it so elegantly its like he isn't giving you the finger, he's giving you the finger after he plated it with gold and jewelry.

I look forward to your evil plans Mordo, mainly because I will hopefully not be their target for once.

BIC:

A series of loud knocks caused Andy to awaken from his sleep, as he opened his eyes he glanced over at his alarm clock which displayed "1:30" in bright green against the black display. He swore to himself as he lifted his head off of his pillow and looked over at his wife, still asleep, before pushing himself up into a sitting position and swinging his legs over the side. He didn't normally answer the door naked so he felt it best to slip on a pair of pajama pants before traipsing out of his room and into the living room's hallway. As he shuffled his feet against the floor he stepped on a round canister and bent over to pick it up and examine it, the red and white decorations on it denoted that it was the frosting can from yesterday. He shrugged and placed it on a night stand before walking out to the living room and answering the door. A blast of air made him regret putting a shirt on and he soon found himself staring at Claudia, the porch light illuminating her face and an odd shape covered in wrapping paper. "What is it Ma'am?" Andy asked as he saw Claudia cock an eyebrow, Andy looked down at his chest and could see faint lines of red on his chest and what looked like lick marks, the mystery of the frosting can was solved, "Its nothing miss, wife and I were just..."

"I'm not interested in your bedroom activities." Claudia quickly said, "I only came here to drop this off." she said while presenting the gift.

"What is it?" Andy asked.

"A present." Claudia answered.

"No thanks." Andy said as he attempted to close the door.

"Its not for you, its for your son." Claudia replied, holding the door open.

"Yeah, its probably a bomb or something so no." Andy said, using a little bit more effort to close the door.

"Its a fething Elmo toy." Claudia replied, "It makes noises."

"So its electronic, which means it could be a bomb." Andy said.

"What's with you and bombs?" Claudia asked.

"I used to make them for a living, so no, you can keep Elmo for yourself." Andy said as he used just enough force to start pushing Claudia away from the door.

"My father made me get it for Michael." Claudia said, desperate to get the present away from her own possession.

"Oh, Claudius made you buy an Elmo for my son." Andy said as he rolled his eyes, "I highly doubt that, now why don't you go before I tell your dad that you're here trying to kill my son with a bomb-laden toy."

"For feth's sake its not a bomb." Claudia said, her strength wasn't enough to stop Andy from closing the door and it seemed as if the werewolf wasn't using any effort, "He made me get it to say sorry for making you work yesterday.". At those final words, all of the force Andy was exerting on the door stopped and it widened.

"Wait, what was that?" Andy asked.

"Its an apology for making you get the slaves on to the field to work yesterday. I over stepped my boundaries when I did so." Claudia replied, "I have no control over the field slaves, they are for you and my father to control."

"Well as long as its an apology present, I don't see why I shouldn't take it." Andy said with a smile, "I thank you kindly and Michael thanks you as well ma'am." Andy finished cheerfully as he took the present from Claudia.

"Go back to sleep Bruss." Claudia said, her anger at Andy's cocky attitude suppressed by her emotionless face, "You have work tomorrow."

"Oh I know, you have a wonderful rest of whatever it is you do at this time." Andy said as he bowed and walked backwards, closing the door as he did. He set the present on the kitchen table before walking back to his bedroom, laying in the warm sheets made him see colder until they began to heat his body.

"Who was that dear?" Wendy asked sleepily.

"Claudia, Claudius made her get Michael a present as a gift." Andy said as he pay next to her.

"I bet you like that don't you?" Wendy asked.

"Yep, like seeing her smugness being stripped from her face..." Andy said before turning towards Wendy, "Did you know that there's frosting on my chest?"

"Yeah," Wendy said, "I got a little bored so I put frosting on you, you woke up for a bit, and then we did something that I'm not incredibly fond of ever doing again."

"Oh really?" Andy said, "Is it because it stained the sheets red?"

"Yeah, that and if it was summer we would probably get ants." Wendy said, "From now on we're just going to stick to no frosting in the bedroom."

"Yeah, she was kind of surprised to see me with red streaks on my body." Andy said as Wendy laid her head on his chest.

"I bet she was," she said with a yawn, "but lets go back to sleep now, its early in the morning."

"Sugar crash?" Andy asked.

"Shut up Andy." Wendy said before falling asleep. Andy smiled as he looked at his sexual deviant of a wife, he remembered how fast it took them to get this acquainted with each other and guessed it about a whole hour before they broke into somebody's office and played a game of naked twister on the floor. Then a month afterwards they were married and had their first child on the way, Andy got a kick out of it. Nobody he could think of married the woman who had relations with them only an hour after meeting them, and then again he didn't know anybody who got married after knowing someone for less than a month and had a kid with them in about as much time. It was like some sort of accelerated love life and it was acceptable because as a hunter, his life expectancy was already pretty low. Now though, he had an eternity he could spend with her and had he thought about his future with her. He liked what he thought about, and then thought about their kids, Michael was the only true human left in their family. Sven and Vegas were both part wolf, Wendy was a wolf, and of course he was a wolf, but Michael wasn't. He started to feel bad for him, two werewolf parents and two siblings that would probably become werewolves themselves one day and here he was all alone. Then it got better, he was a slave for some vampires with a prearranged marriage to another human. Andy thought about it before reaching some positives, he wouldn't need a pet dog, they could play catch all day, and more importantly he wouldn't be afraid of werewolves... or vampires for that matter seeing as though he would see both as a child and grow up surrounded by them. "He would be the perfect hunter." Andy thought to himself before glancing at the alarm clock which now flashed "2:16". Andy decided it would be best to get back to sleep before having to tear out some ghoul's tongue in the morning.

Sophie’s hand were trebling as she took a sip of coffee, she looked at Illuminatus who was sitting right across from her with his arms folded and looking back at her. A Coney Island wasn’t the normal place for mages but when it was the nearest place to the hospital where they dropped Bjorn off they can make exception. Sophie was drinking her coffee very fast; she only had about two seconds between tiny sips. This was something she always did when she was scared, not to mention Illuminatus’s wasn’t helping. It was like she was trapped in a room with an arcane bomb, that can go off whenever it felt like it and the only thing to keep her company was a cup of coffee.

“Bjorn will be fine…”

Sophie jumped when she heard Illuminatus break the silence “I’m sure he is, I’m just trying to put everything together,” She took another sip “Aren’t you at all wondering why I went out of my way to find you?”

“That is the number one thing plaguing my mind, but you seemed to be engulfed in your own thought journey and I believe it would be rude to interfere with any possible revelations you may be having, but do share why I am here?”

Sophie took a big gulp of coffee right when Illuminatus was done speaking “There has been something going on in the Veil as you may have sensed already. Some of the other mages it think it has to do with another realm but I’m not sure. I just know they’re doing something that has to do with that realm I was talking about.”

Illuminatus starts to lean closer to Sophie “You do know that is very dangerous?”

“I do, I am afraid of what could go wrong, you are one of the few arch mages who are off the grid. Bjorn told me about some Hunters that can help.”

Illuminatus sat back in his seat “I am not working with those genocidal, simple minded, gun slinging, reactionary, cun-“

“No, no, no, Bjorn fought with these ones, they don't like the Six Fingered Hand too.”

“Fine, but if they dare have negative attentions I am leaving."

“Good,” Sophie smiled and finished off her drink “Aren’t you going to have anything, you look thin as a stick?”

“No, I am trying to relinquish myself from the bonds of earthly things; there are even a group of monks who go years without eating.”

Sophie suddenly looked shocked “How long haven’t you eaten?”

“I don’t know, maybe one third of a solstice.”

“You’re eating something now!” She started to call over a waiter

“No I don’t need it, now tell the messenger of food to leave!”

“Just eat something waffles, a sandwich, gyro…?”

Illuminatus suddenly stopped “They summon gyros?”

Sophie nodded

“I will have one.”

-around 1720-

king maun sat back in his stone seat,smiling at the guests everywhere, watching them dance and smile and eat. His wife the queen sat next to him on his left,his 2 daughters to his right. Inside,slender smiled more than maun did.

Raising his cup,he yelled “to peace with the northernmen!”

“to peace!” e heard many yell back. He sat back down,smiling. Poor saps,so,so poor. In 2 days,he would be gone,their kings flesh would be found rotted, and war would start, spilling blood in every land. Slender was having so much fun. This mans wife was heavenly delicious in the bed, and the daughters showered him in love. It was good being a king,and not just some random knight or noble. He smirked,which made his wife sallina look over at him.

“something wrong dear?” he looked at her,and smiled wider.

“nope,nothing my dear. Just thought how close to war we got,and how dumb the dispute was.” he scanned the crowed,noting the abundance of drunk knights. He felt her hand on his knee. He liked that.

“and that’s why your king. You stopped it,now we can think of other things. Like an heir.” he felt her smile on him. Silly wench of a mortal, if you knew who was in this skin,you would bow and claim me a god. Standing up,he nodded to her.

“yes,and other things must be though of as well.” as he was about to leave the throne room, the doors at the front burst open,and the 2 guards that had been outside came in. well,only their heads. A slender,lovely woman came in,followed by 2 brutes. Slender bit his lip.

“hello maun,or should I say slender. You cant run from us any longer. Come with us,or face execution.” 4 knights jumped up and were about to charge,but maun called them off.

“i-i don’t know who you are, but if your hear to bow do it more nicely.” several people laughed. Then stopped,as their heads were ripped off by the big brutes,who moved at speeds only a vampire could. Slender knew he had to act fast. Looks like mauns time was up. As he let the skin rot off of him,he heard gasps and screams and fearful cries. Slender stared forward with his empty eyes. How he hated his true form.”very well,here I am. And here’s me not coming back.” he lurched forward,being skinny and long armed gave him an advantage over the brutes. As he ripped off the 1sts head,the stabbed the 2nd with his fingers as he bent backward and under it as it tried to tackle him. Its guts were sucked dry,and it fell away as almost nothing. He straightened himself,and face the vampire woman. “that all? Surly me killing 3 members of the counsel would would get me worse?” he didn’t like he smile. And the next 2nd,he didn’t like the pain in his back as the slammed into him,sending them across the room,and breaking the throne. He saw other vampires coming in,fighting knights who were easily losing.

“you lose, slender von maun! The ghost of the kindrid, the plague of the counsel! I win!” just as he thought his head would come off,the vampire stopped,and looked at her chest. Slender looked at it too,noting the wood sticking through it. As she fell away dead,he fell down the wall, and saw the princess sohia standing above him,wooden stake in hand. She bent down,and looked right into his eyeless eyes. Then,she leaned forward..and..kissed his cheek.

She whispered into his 'ear' “ your a sad thing,arnt you? Remember,its not what we are that makes us a monster,its are actions.” she then stood up and turned around. She looked back at him. “run.” slender was dumb struck he had no idea what she meant. He was a totenmaske. A monster to monsters. How could he not be? As he raced out a window,he was overloaded with thoughts. He slipped,and fell from the castle walls ledge,and hit the ground hard. It rained. He twitched,again and again,thinking hard. What had that been? Why did she help him,why kiss him, tell him he could be something good if he wanted? He thought more,and more. The more he did,the mote he wanted to know. As he stood up,he felt something snap in his mind. He forgot his old self,locked it away, and filled his head with one thought. What was human emotion? Ow and why does it work? He nodded. He would keep learning about humans. Humans names,human thoughts,human life. Everything. He wouldn’t let the old self out,not until he knew what that was he felt...what that was he saw in her eyes when she had saved him...

he ran,ran as he heard them pick up his trail.

>>>

slender let the boys remains slip from his hands into the furnace. His new hobo skin reeked,and this new suit was an awful shade of blue. But they knew his old one,and therefore he could not have kept it. As he gathered up the few things from the warehouse he wanted to keep, sarah walked in.

“hey,who are you? Wait..your charles,arnt you! What happened? Oh,you musta done that skin change thingy! So,were you going,can I come? What do I call you now?” he stopped,and looked at he. Smiling,he nodded.

“yes..yes you can. And call me slender. Slender von maun. It is my name after all.” turning,he flicked a switch,opening the furnace,letting the flames ignite the fluid he had drenched the warehouse in. as he grabbed sarah and rushed out,he laughed as the warehouse burned behind him.

... Eric Cole's eyes flickered open at the sound of his phone buzzing, he'd only managed to get perhaps two hours of sleep in the past two days...and now, here...when he'd finally dozed off...the damned phone was ringing...
He pawed out, grasping clumsily in the dim light of his small room, knocking the insistantly buzzing phone to the floor..
" Damn it" Cole muttered leaning from his bed and snatching the annoying piece of techno crap up, answering in a gravely and surly voice..." Cole...what do you want?!"
" Eric" The soft voice on the other line said " Sasha Reynolds here.." Cole rolled his eyes, Agent Reynolds was the only person in this god forsaken complex with enough Network credintial to call him by his first name...and frankly it boiled his piss just a bit...if she wasn't such a damn knockout he'd probably complain about it, as it was...she was constantly calling him at all hours..wishing to discuss various aspects of Project 66.
" What is it Sasha.." Cole sang back, in mock pleasentry..." What can I do for you at...3:23 in the morning?"
The woman laughed " Sorry Eric...I know it's late...but."
God damnit thought Cole, with this woman there was always a " but" or " just one thing"..." But what Sasha?" Cole said...still maintaining his false cheer.
" I just got a message fro T.R...orders are to contact a selection of known ..mages...and request their assistance here" Sasha said..
" I assume by ..request..we really mean order them to come." Cole said with a smirk..
The woman laughed lightly..." Eric...they are sacnctioned by the Network after all...they assist us...and we keep Kraub and his ..people away from them."
" Wonderful...magic hostages at our beck and call" Cole sighed..." I'll send out the mesages tomorrow.."
" I already have" The woman said..." sent them out as soon as I heard from T.R."
Cole shook his head " Then...why'd you bother to call to tell me?" he asked...
" Profesional courtesy" Sasha said and hung up...
Cole stared at the phone for a moment..." Ohh..If you were a man" he thought " Just for five minutes.." still grumbling he laid his head back down and tried to sleep.

... Natasha stood and crossed the room to her wardrobe, she'd received word of Harlow's return and would be conveying a meeting of her generals shortly, at least most of them...
She frowned as she glanced over several wracks of clothing, how she loathed to emulate the humans and their foolish habit of covering themselves..." Creatures taught to be ashamed of themselves and masking it as proper behavior" she scoffed as she slipped into revealing mini dress and high boots, she glanced into a decorative full leagth mirror and sighed..." Disgusting custom...so...Human" she spat.
" You look wonderful my Mistress" Mia said from the canopy bed
" Beautiful beyond words Mistress" Mya echoed.
Natasha fixed the twins with a cold gaze and nodded, they served their purpose..true...but she felt little more than a pyshical draw to them...they would never be what Keri was to her..
The wolf Queen turned and started for the door..
" Shall we accompany you Mistress" the twins echoed one another..
" No.." Natasha said without looking back..." Your presence is not required.." she finished exiting the chambers.
Entering the hallway, she was joined by her personal Guards...and together they made their way through the passageways and into the formal meeting hall..
" Ah..Harlow" Natasha said as she and the Black Claw entered the chambers " I'm pleased to see you've returned well and unharmed."

... Andy grunted as the ringing of his phone pulled him from slumber.." What the hell..?" he muttered snatching up the receiver...remembering to use his hand this time so as not to knock the phone over..
" Hello..who is this?" Andy snorted, he'd been snorting a lot since becoming a wolf...it annoyed Wendy...but he just couldn't help it..
" Is this Andy Bruss?" a cheerful voice asked..
" Umm..yeah...it is" replied Andy..trying not to snort again..." Who is this?"..again with the snort..
" Andy...this is Stevie Wonder" the cheerful voice answered cheerfully .." I know sometimes things can look gloomy..and life can be unfair but..ya know...looking back on when I was a nappyheaded boy...then my only worry was what for christmas would be my toy...but...one Christmas a bunch of werewolves ate my mom and dad while they were out caroling...so always remember things can always get worse."
" That's actually depressed me a bit Stevie..." Andy said...to sad to snort " Did you just call to depress me?"
" Of course not ANdy" Stevie said " What sort of song title would that be...hell you couldn't even hum that..no...I just called to say I love you ANdy...and I know about what you and your wife did with the frosting.."
" Um..well..thanks for calling Stevie" said ANdy..." Ima hang up now."
" You take care now ANdy" Stevie said cheerfuly causing Andy to snort again..." and I'll see ya a round"
" ..But" Andy said, feeling to awkward to snort.
" Figure of speech andy" Stevie laughed " Figure of speech"
" Don't call me anymore Stevie" Andy said Hanging up the phone.

BIC:………..Light in the Darkness: part five……………

A man sat before Vegas, his fingers clenching a burning cigarette. He stroked his beard as he inhaled the dangerous fumes. The man looked familiar, his name was colt. Vegas had no idea how she knew that, but it seemed fitting. “Always be prepared to run.” Colt said. “Our job isn’t the safest one, we don’t receive hazard pay. We have no friends, our only contact are the things we kill.” “Then why do we do it?” Vegas heared herself say. “Because we have no other choice.” Colt replied “Now, always have at least two unused passports and three different currency’s because…”

Vegas slapped herself, she needed to stay focused. Daydreaming wouldn’t help their cause. And why did she dream about person she didn’t knew, she blocked it out as she continued running. Before her ran Muse, her faithful scythe clenched in her hand. She knew this region like the back of her hand, leading them through paths only known to locals. She was the first to join Vegas merry band of human waste. She never said much, preferring to keep to herself. Muse wasn’t even her name, no one knew what it was. But one night, she saved Michael from death. He thanked her and called her his muse. And eventually that was what everyone started calling her. She didn’t seem to mind, in fact she appeared to like it. Vegas looked over her shoulder, where the rest of the crew tried to keep up. James and Michael carrying the wounded matt. Moving him wasn’t good, but they had no choice. Someone was behind them and Vegas knew who it was. Mattheus. A Vampire send to hunt her down, and it seemed that after three months he would succeed. He would kill the mysterious human called Vegas. A legend started by Muse herself.

They waited in the dark at the outskirts of Rek’shilva. It was a cold cycle, their breath made tiny clouds. Two Vampires stood before Muse and Sky. They were agents sent by an Old blood wishing to remain anonymous. He had some problems with a member of his own clan, a problem he would liked to see resolved. Sky gladly accepted the contract, it payed her in corpus. Humans. The currency of Vampiric society. People she could save. But the two men seemed hesitant to give Vegas the contract. “Our master, just wants certainty that the contract would be accomplished.” Vegas wanted to reassure them that she was more then capable. But Muse spoke first, it was the most she had ever said. “We represent Vegas.” She said in her delicate voice. “The wasteland ghost, she stalks the midnight wastes in search of prey. …” she spun a magnificent web off lies, created solely to frighten the wanderers of the night. “Just get it done.” The agents said as they disappeared in the night. The compound of the Vampires opponent fell that week in a blazing inferno. Muse used her scythe to carve the name of Vegas in the wall. And soon everywhere Sky went, the stories of Vegas began to be told. Each story more creative than the other. A legend was born, and Sky took over the name of Vegas.

Muse stopped. “Rest.” She simply stated. Vegas crew all fell down heavily breathing, sweat dripping out of every pore. All But Muse who simply leaned against her rusted scythe. She would have made an excellent runner. Matt growled as James pulled the bloody rag of his wound. It was still bleeding, and every passing minute death arched closer. “I’m sorry.” Matt muttered as James tore his shirt up, making a new bandages. “What’s the plan?” Michael asked between his giant breaths. “We go to Rek’shilva.” Vegas replied. It was the most logical choice she could make. “So running away from one Vampire to run towards a city of Vampires?” Michael sneered. “Fantastic, just fething great.” “Shut up.” One of the man said. “Vegas has a plan,…You do have a plan?” he asked with pleading eyes. “We go to Monk, and hide there. Until we figure out what our next step is.” “I don’t trust Monk, he’s probably the reason why we are in this situation.” Michael said, taking a big gulp from his water canteen. “Well … Then we’ll have something to talk to him about….Muse let’s get moving.” The crew grunted as they crawled back on their tired legs. Following Muse who kept running at an unforgiving pace. The Howls of Bloodhounds following close behind.

Nice posts Fitzz...

Shas'ui T'au Kais wrote:Nice posts Fitzz...

ditto on the congrats!

waking up in the crypt flourence looks around. not much to do tonight but feed. pushing the slab aside he goes out to find some prey.

stalking the outskirts of vegas he finds... nobody. for a city that never sleeps it is awfully quiet. so he journeys closer in, farther in.

as he goes into a back ally he stumbles across a man in a suit aparently buying drugs and some sort of thug. the man in the suit freezes the thug pulls a gun.
grinning flourence leaps forward and gets shot in the shoulder, luckly the bullet passes cleanly through his shoulder. landing on top of the gangster he rips his head off and begins his feast. all the while the man in the suit recovers his sences and runs away, as he does pulling out a cell phone. "Police! Police! I just wittnessed a murder and the killer is eating the man HELP!!!"

bored he pick up the gun the gangester shot, points it at the running man and unloads the clip. Of the 6 shots 5 of thim hit the walls of the alley but one of them manages to hit the man in the side. bleeding he continues shuffling along, now almost to the end of the alley way. Flourence charge forward leaping towards the man and landing on the mans back and rip his head off and feast.

"oh that is good" he thinks to himself "two kills in one night, oh that is good"

only after he is done does he realize that he just killed some one, and there are a gakload of people that jsut say him eat the guy. A man at the corner pulling out a gun. A cop in an old worn out blue shirt holding a cup of coffee unaware that he just spilled it on himself staring out the window of his care in a daze. A pair of hookers on the other end of the street looking mighty tasty

"gak" he says

turning around he runs back into the alley and keeps running. doubling back a few times and takeing some routes that humans would find very difficult he manages to get back to the graveyard. by the time he gets there the bullet wound has healed.

jumping the fence and running up to the crypt, moving the slab, he ducks inside and closes the slab behind him.

"gak" he says "I might as well have killed a man in plain sight here in vegas... oh wait i just did... well not much i can do now"

tired from running on a full stomach he leans against the door and falls asleep.

IC:

Jimmy was walking down a dank alleyway in search of the Peckham district. He was sure that this vampire would be the one that could give him answers, answers for his curse. Jimmy vaulted a railing into a small park, barely consisting of half a dozen dying trees. It looked like the sort of place that one would expect to get mugged on a dark night, which it was. Almost instantly after thinking this, his vampire enhanced hearing picked out the sound of what heard like seven people, probably young men attempting to creep up on him. He almost couldn't contain himself with laughter, these fools thought they could beat him? He had heard of the infamous British lower class before and knew they were dim witted but this was ridiculous, his aura of fear should have been enough to scare them off but these people were clearly half-brain dead. He turned around to face the shadows in which they hid and spoke,

"Come out come out wherever you are! There's no point in hiding, I can see you!" he could sense their fear growing now as his shroud of impenatrable evil began to blanket them. The group stepped out of the shadows and apprehensively each pulled out a pocket knife. Jimmy almost laughed at the sight; he guessed he didn’t have any choice. The one who seemed to be in charge stood up to him and said apprehensively,

“Give us yer money ninja-puff,” his knife hand shook violently although he was not sure why this was, this was just a boy right? Not even particularly hench at that. Jimmy looked the man dead in the eyes, his unusually emerald-green iris staring deep into the mans soul and said,

“Put it down, or someones gonna get hurt.” The man laughed awkwardly for a couple of seconds, looking to his gang for support. There was none. Jimmy stared deeper into the mans eyes and then the final straw hit the gangster causing him to drop his knife in fear. His eyes turned demonic red. The terrified man stumbled backwards and tripped over a tree stump. It was all over in seconds

**********************************************************************************

Jimmy stood up after his blood meal from the gang. He grimaced from the taste, horribly spiked with the flavour of cigarettes and shattered dreams. Still, a vampires gotta do what a vampires gotta do right? Jimmy morphed into gas and flew off into the night sky, he was going to find his embracer, no matter what the cost. He had only gone around 300m when he spotted something, no, someone, talking outside a house. He couldn’t believe his currently gaseous eyes, it was the werewolf, the one that should be dead with… No, it couldn’t be! Could it? He saw the two outside this house and he sensed he’d seen both before. It was him, Altas and the one he believed to be his embracer, the legendary vampire, Valentin Rusmanov. He was looking at the one who had ruined his existence.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Damn this could get awkward.....

@ Catos and Kais....looks like your characters are coming together....you to need to make some decisions about how they will react to one another...and if a player event will be needed.

... Chief Administrator Aron Kraub strolled purposefully through the torch lit passageways of the subterianian stronghold which the American branch of his Order had established.
His dark long coat fluttering behind him, Kraub entered his private sanctuary , kneeling before a large marble altar and silently offering a prayer to the most high Lord...
He had experianced yet another vision...another prophitic revelation from the almighty...and he would obey the word of his god .
The beast were gathering...in several cities of this godless and immoral country...and he had been charged to purge ...to purify...to remove their unholy presence in the eye of god.
...He would obey...he would purge...he would purify...as the Earthly hand of the almighty...he swore it..
Rising from his knees, the man stepped from the dim chapel and strode briskly into the Orders meeting hall.
There, gathered around a large table of polished wood, sat a dozen Exalted Brothers of The Six Fingered Hand, each stared at Kraub intently as he entered...each eager to hear what he had to say..
" Brothers" Kraub began " I have been shown what is expected of each of us...the Lord himself has guided us here...and continues to bestow his orders open me...the divine hand guides us...and we shall not falter"
The assembled Brothers spoke as one " We shall follow the will of our Lord...we shall obey"
" My Brothers" Kraub continued " The Lord has shown me that the beast assemble...it is our sacred duty to cut them down...to purge and purify in the Lords name"
" We shall purge...we shall purify" Came the answer from the gathered Brothers " We shall strike in the name of the most high"
" Draw near my Brothers" Kraub said " I shall lay out our plans...God plans for each of you"....

Part Three... On the Town.


...one month later....

The fog horn blasted into the cold night air, the sound bombarding across the Hudson with a low fever pitch that caused dogs to bark in backyards across the way in Jersey. Within the depths of the thick grey soup, a large transport ship, carrying containers from Italy pulled up slowly towards the Howland Hook Marine Terminal on Staten Island. The Captain on the bridge arguing with the dock administrator on when he could offload his cargo. As the crew prepped for docking, none of them noticed the shadows moving from below decks. Apart from a couple of incidents of tiredness the crew had largely missed the presence of Kindred on their boat, and no one noticed as one by one six figures leapt into the river, heading for the distant Manhattan.


...


Terry Walters had worked at the City Pier A site for most of his adult life, he was one of a number who kept an eye on the older historical building of the city at night, and was close buddies to several of the former Fire Department Marine Division members that had called it home.

"Just me and a flashlight." He muttered as he walked along the pier, glancing out towards the Statue of Liberty in the distance, he smiled at her as always, the one light in the darkness. A blub of water echoed in the air, and he glanced over towards the rippling water against the pier piles below him. His eyes strained as he looked at the water, for a moment, for a second he thought he saw a beautiful red haired woman gliding through the murk like a dolphin, then she was gone.

He blinked, and rubbed his eyes.

"Could have sworn." His grumbled against the soft breeze and continued walking along the pier. As his heavy boots clumped along the wooden deck, he stopped suddenly at the sight of wet puddles of water moving over towards the side of the bell tower.

"What in blazes."

Walking around he stopped dead in shock at the sight of the towering figure, a twisted being of flesh and bone as it shifted before his eyes, limbs stretching out, flesh spinning from one area of body to the next. He watched frozen in terror as it mutated, morphed and reformed into a pale skinned man, wearing a pair of sunglasses holding a cigarette in his mouth, he smiled as he ignited a match in his hand and cupped it over his mouth. Letting his hands fall he took a puff of the cigarette and blew smoke towards the mans face.

"New York, New York, a Wonderful town." Nero said with a grin.

Terry Walters screamed in terror as something grabbed him from behind. An old lady in her apartment across the bay in Jersey in the equality residential building spotted a flash light flaying around as she was making herself a soda, obviously kids messing around she thought bitterly and went back to her book unconcerned as the light in the distance vanished.


...


Scarlett walked out onto Battery Place and glanced between the cars scooting along the road, and the park to her right. She glanced back as Nero, Olivia, Lilith, V'ral and Gerstard walked up behind her. Gerstard seemed quite calm for a man who had never left his home country of Slavakia before, another member of the Black Rook, who Nero 'recruited' on the way to Genoa, before their long journey back to the States. She glanced to Olivia and managed to share a slight smile, before her eyes lingered on the still scornful Lilith.

"Anything you'd like to say Lilly?"

Lilith's eyes darkened. They had used 'Victoria' for several days before Nero had accidently granted her with a nickname that Scarlett was unable to resist using.

The nearly two month journey from the former hidden Black Rook base, had granted a great insight to the blood of Vicissitude to Scarlett and the others. The voice in the head grew weaker in time, only there to direct and aid when stress struck them, it could punish them though, and so a uneasy alliance now existed between Scarlett and Lilith. The baggage from their lives still existing, taunting the two of them constantly, but a feeling a goodwill to each other emanated from the blood. When hostility reared its head on two occasions since their journey began, both of them where left huddling on the floor grasping onto their own stomachs as crippling pain struck them until they stopped.

It seemed snide remarks however did not cause much of a reaction, something both of them had learned eagerly.

"It seems a waste of my breath toward a English whore.. I mean rose like yourself, dearest Scarlett."

Nero stood behind them grinning as always, Scarlett glanced at him, it was starting to feel she had teamed up with the Cheshire Cat, but it was way too late to worry over such things, even if this had been his plan from day one, Scarlett had to admit, she wasn't sure she'd change anything.


A guttural cry echoed from behind them, and the Kindred turned to watch as the dock guard staggered out from the Pier. His flesh burst in places as spikes and tendrils flayed towards the night, he didn't acknowledge them, he didn't react to the cars, he just charged into the park sniffing the air like a hunting dog, looking for meat.

"Thats new." She said softly watching as the guard found a target and chased after a middle aged woman jogger, who ran off screaming in horror away from him.

"The blood can feel the heart is close, the bond grows, so those we drink from will return to infect others." Nero said, still grinning.

Scarlett watched mesmerized as the man lunged and grasped hold of the ankles of the jogger with tendrils, her screams echoing into the sky as he dragged her close and spines stabbed down into her body scattering blood across the ground. For barely a moment, a single doubt crossed her mind, before the blood filled her with a warmth and belief in her choices, she turned from the carnage in the park and looked towards the city that lay before them.

"I can feel it, he's close, we need to go north." Scarlett said as she began to cross the street, the others following without a word.

As they headed north, Terry Walters roared to the sky, blood foaming in his mouth, as he began charging a couple of young men with skateboards who yelled out in shock and tried to run, behind him the jogger was starting to lift herself up, her blood dripping into pools of ichor, as her limbs stretched out and her fingers melded into what looked like bone blades. He blue eyes sparkled in the night, tears rolling down either cheeks as a dark red seeped into them and with a flash of crimson she was lost forever.

It had begun.

Harlow had dismissed the pack except for Alex to finish up behind the, taking care of the bodies and such. It was then that Natasha entered the room to see them both standing at the head of a long table with many chairs on either side. As she crossed over to greet them, Harlow could smell a faint whisp of displeasure on Alex. If the queen got this scent as well she didn't show it but it had become a normal reaction when Alex was in the presence of the queen. All that was important was that he not show what he felt.

"Yes, Milady, though I must admit, one of the pack was killed in the fight, he died well and slew his killer." Harlow said evenly as Natasha took her seat at the opposite head of the table. She took on a solemn composure.

"That is regrettable, but these things are necessary for our fight. I am sure he will be remembered." She said.

As the greetings were winding down, two others entered the room, Harlow recognized them both, the blonde man was Jarin, Harlow's direct superior her and the other experienced fighter was Davin who led the queen's own guard. Both had grim expressions as they entered the room, they probably already knew why they were here and that was the reason for the completely serious atmosphere. Guards were set at the doors to the room and the doors were sealed behind them. The highest echelons of Lycan command around the world were meeting...well...all except one.

Harlow hadn't seen a whole lot of Ryan during his employment to the Lycan queen and at best had something resembling a working relationship with him but the big wolf was out on assignment somewhere so he would not be here for the meeting. As the occupants of the room took their seats, Harlow came forwards and addressed them.

"Last night I and a team were successful in capturing this..." Harlow said indicating the metal briefcase that Alex brought forwards and placed on the table, the handcuff was still attached but the hand was thankfully missing from it. "Its something I and Alex have been tracking for the past year, or trying to anyway, it disappeared and reappeared several times in places all over the earth for the past few moths until it was finally brought to San Francisco. Fortunately, it seems the Kindred let their guard down because there wasn't a whole lot of protection for it when it was swapped."

"And the importance of this case is?" Davin asked, looking at the case.

"We still don't know what's inside but we are fairly certain that it pertains to the Crooked house and the realm it inhabits." Harlow stated, everyone was all ears now, there was precious little information on the Kindred's realm, some weren't even sure it existed.

"You don't know what's inside? You meant toe tell me the Vampirii have had this for a year and haven't opened it?" Jarin asked.

"Not to my knowledge no. We now know that whatever is inside was sealed into this case by human mages using their powers. When I met Alex, he approached me to help him open it, but it was captured by kindred agents before we could even so much as look at it."

"And how did Alex get it into his possession?" Natasha asked seeming very interested.

"I had a contract with a network informant, all he told me was that there was something important inside and told me not to try and look. Before I had a chance to hand it off I was attacked by the Kindred and when I did finally try to hand it off the Network had their agents try to kill me. That was when I sought Syd for his help." Alex came forward and said. "I've been able to track down messages that suggest this case is wanted desperately by the Network's "Project 66."

"Those humans who are trying to get into the kindred's realm?" Davin asked, Alex just nodded.

"Now that we have it in our possession again, the Network and Vampirii will be hot on its trail. I suggest we put our other sects and the guards here on alert just in case." There was a general nodding as Harlow said that.

"Do we have any idea how to open it?" Jarin asked.

"I honestly don't have a clue, the case is made of a special metal that's near indestructible, the only way to safely get out what's inside is by unlocking it and its been sealed with the power of the mages, the major reason I brought it here was because I wanted to know if any of you had any experience with such things." Harlow said looking around the room

"I think I may have a solution, Harlow. Leave the case with me and I will see if I cannot have it opened." Natasha said with a slight smile. Harlow simply nodded. "Speaking of which what is the status of my decree?" She asked, seeming bored at this point now that the topic had changed.

"It is being worked on as we speak, milady, soon all lycans will know their options." Harlow said with another nod. At this point Natasha stood up.

"Very well, you are all dismissed to your duties." She said and the group split up again.

----------------------

Harlow walked down the long halls of the compound with Alex after the meeting, Harlow admitted it was short but then again it didn't need to be any longer. He was concerned about Alex though, the man didn't seem to be any less miffed than he was when he was at the meeting. Over the past year Harlow had become something resembling a mentor to Alex, it was a role he couldn't see himself taking for anyone more than a year ago, but then again he hadn't had any family a year ago...

"Whats the matter with you?" Harlow asked , breaking the silence between them suddenly. Alex hesitated for a moment before briefly looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone to be eavesdropping or following them. He spoke lowly.

"Does she always have to do that?" He asked.

"Specifics...who and what?" Harlow said although he already had a good idea that he knew.

"Her majesty, I can't tell if she's just trying to tease everyone around here or she enjoys looking like a slut." Alex said again lowly. Harlow stopped mid stride and Alex stopped with him.

"Firstly I don't think I have to tell you not to say things like this where anyone else can hear you if you value your heart." Harlow said sternly. "And secondly she's a pureblood, what did you expect?"

"Hey, you're the one that asked, I'd be happy to keep it to myself. What's that got to do with anything though?" Alex asked. Harlow sighed a bit.

"Wolves are creatures of passion, Alex, ever hear the phrase "lover not a fighter?" Harlow asked. Alex raised an eyebrow curiously but nodded his head. He was sure he'd heard this speech from Harlow before but it didn't seem to matter, he was still internally off put.

"Well, to put it bluntly, lycans are both, its just how nature works, you've been a wolf for most of your life, hell, you were practically born with it, you oughta know." Harlow said crossing his arms. Alex scoffed.

"You're one to talk."

Harlow would have been angered by that statement if it was not true. Truth be told, he saw a lot of his former self in Alex, the man was still scared of what he was, still trying to hold on to what he knew which was humanity because that was all that he was comfortable with. It sounded strange, but to Harlow's knowledge it was a pretty common occurrence that wolves rejected their blessings as curses. that was something Harlow learned just a year ago, the life of a lycan could be short and brutal, even though they were blessed with immortality they could still die from the violence of their world, Harlow had rejected his humanity long since but he knew that Alex still tried to hold onto it even though it was not there and that was why he was struggling.

"Yes...I am, unlike you, I've gotten used to it and accepted it for what it is. The queen is a pureblood, which means she's never known what it is to be human." Harlow leaned closer to Alex and spoke lowly at this point. "That little voice in the back of your skull that begs to be let out, that one that devours your mind each and every full moon, that's how she thinks all the time, the sooner you do, the sooner you can start enjoying yourself instead of moping." With that, Harlow left Alex standing in thought in the hall, headed back to his own personal chamber to think on what was ahead of him...

FITZZ wrote:... Andy grunted as the ringing of his phone pulled him from slumber.." What the hell..?" he muttered snatching up the receiver...remembering to use his hand this time so as not to knock the phone over..
" Hello..who is this?" Andy snorted, he'd been snorting a lot since becoming a wolf...it annoyed Wendy...but he just couldn't help it..
" Is this Andy Bruss?" a cheerful voice asked..
" Umm..yeah...it is" replied Andy..trying not to snort again..." Who is this?"..again with the snort..
" Andy...this is Stevie Wonder" the cheerful voice answered cheerfully .." I know sometimes things can look gloomy..and life can be unfair but..ya know...looking back on when I was a nappyheaded boy...then my only worry was what for christmas would be my toy...but...one Christmas a bunch of werewolves ate my mom and dad while they were out caroling...so always remember things can always get worse."
" That's actually depressed me a bit Stevie..." Andy said...to sad to snort " Did you just call to depress me?"
" Of course not ANdy" Stevie said " What sort of song title would that be...hell you couldn't even hum that..no...I just called to say I love you ANdy...and I know about what you and your wife did with the frosting.."
" Um..well..thanks for calling Stevie" said ANdy..." Ima hang up now."
" You take care now ANdy" Stevie said cheerfuly causing Andy to snort again..." and I'll see ya a round"
" ..But" Andy said, feeling to awkward to snort.
" Figure of speech andy" Stevie laughed " Figure of speech"
" Don't call me anymore Stevie" Andy said Hanging up the phone.

IC:

Atlas’ head twitched up as soon as he caught the scent of Jimmy. Instinctively he jumped up and extended his claws, getting himself into a defensive stance, ready for battle.

“Valentin,” Atlas said loudly, but coolly. “Please don’t tell me you brought a Vampire goon along with you.”

“Not as far as I’m aware, but people could be attracted to me, I do have that effect,” he sniggered in response, reaching out with his hands, chaotic power puling through them, forming his signature weapon, the Ripper.

A figure approached them from the park nearby, and Atlas could just make out the form of a young man of about 20, who looked like a sort of Goth, clad in black leather. His body was mostly in shadows, but glinting in the moonlight where the sights of his razor sharp fangs, and the face blaring with anger, but as cool as ice at the same time.

“Then, let us begin,” Valentin muttered, instantly phasing out of reality, and reappearing about a half a meter in front of the figure, who had seen this and instantly readied his claws, and baring his fangs, waiting to strike.

Valentin raised the Ripper, dark magic’s swirling around the blade, and readying it to strike.

“You made a mistake showing yourself here!”

________________________________________

Just a short one, but I couldn't think of anything else...

... don't worry, its okay with Catos...

This could get interesting...
...cant wait to battle Valentin...
...and you too Atlas...

2 Weeks Ago...


Welcome to the Jungle... Part the First

Las Vegas. The city of sin. It was disgusting, drug ridden, and a general horrible place to live. To stay, it was perfect. The trio were staying in the Presidential Suite of the Wynn Hotel. Musater had paid for it in full, and seeing as how Natasha hasn't figured out credit card tracking, felt relatively safe booking using his Amex. The woman swiped the card, and her eyes lit up.

"Of course, Senator, please follow me." She husled out of her booth, with Longar and Fenrir looking at him, very confusingly. He smiled, adjusted his tie, and fixed his newly placed on Flag Pin. They entered the room, looking at the staff in the room. The chef, the roomkeeper, and the masseuse were all lined up, waiting for their entry.

"Mr. Cho, we are honored that you are staying here at the Wynn hotel. These are the staff members that will be helping you with anything you need." The check-in woman smiled, and hit the chef lightly.

"If there anything the Mister is allergic to?" He spoke with a slight Greek accent. Fenrir always loved Gyro day in the asylum.

"No, not really. I do have a question. The bar downstairs, the "Rabbit Hole". Can you get the waitress Alice up here?" Musater gave a tiny wink. The check-in woman looked a bit shocked, but happily obliged. The staff introduced themselves, and then left, looking for Alice.

"The feth? Senator? Musater, what the hell are you doing?" Longar threw the bag on the ground. Filled to the brim with their weapons, it was a miracle that they cleared customs.

"Well, Ex-Senator. I was Mr. Cho for 2 terms in the Las Vegas Senate. Quite fun, really." He took his shoes off, threw his jacket on the ground, and went straight for the kitchen. His specific instructions were met very well. The fridge was full of raw steaks, malt beer, and boxes of Snickers bars. Tossing a Malt to Longar, and a box of the chocolate bars to Fenrir, he grabbed himself a steak. Skipping the cooking process, Musater ripped off the saran wrap and began to bite off chunks. It had been weeks since his last animal meal, and he had gotten to liking them. It was a nice change of pace from human for breakfast, lunch and dinner, with a nice human snack between them.

The meal was short lived, however, as there was a knock on the door. The intercom squelched, "Mr. Cho, Alice is here to see you." Musater wiped the blood from his face, picked up his jacket, and opened the door.

"Good morning Mr. Cho. You wanted to... Uh... See me?" She was wearing her waitress uniform. Skimpy miniskirt, tight fitting shirt. Longar didn't seem interested, but Fenrir stood up.

"Do you know how to make a White Rabbit?" She smiled as she walked over, her combat boots making thud noises as she walked.

"I... Err... Sure?" She gave a shrug. "I can sure learn how."

"Good! I'll teach you!" Fenrir beckoned for her to come to the bedroom. "The booze is in here. Can you help me with it?"

Alice obliged, walking after the woman. Musater closed and locked the door. The sound of the body hitting the floor alarmed Musater. He opened the door, to see the chloroform rag in Fenrir's hands.

"Shush now. I have to make a White Rabbit." She slammed the door. Musater walked back to the bench, and took a nap.

The sound of a scream alerted Musater to wake the feth up. Longar dropped his Malt onto the pile of the other empties.

"She's been at it for hours. That's the seventh scream." He picked at his teeth with his sword. "It's annoying."

"Well, we could see what this "White Rabbit" actually is." Musater sat up from the couch. They opened the door to see what Fenrir was doing. Longar's jaw hit the floor, and Musater threw up a bit.

The entrails of the woman were layed out on the floor in the shape of a pentagram, blood slicking the floor. The audible moans of the still surviving woman were cut short when Fenrir sliced her head off and placed it in the pentagram. She proceeded to cut off the hands, and began to walk to the unholy circle. She heard the gasps of the two men. Looking down, she remembered that part of the ritual was using the fingers and toes of the sacrifice as underwear.

"You two want to get out?" She covered her bare breasts with the arm that was holding the severed hands.

They happily slammed the door. She continued with her gruesome work in silence, now that the bitch had stopped screaming.

Fitfully tossing and turning, with sweat on his brow and clenching his teeth, Florence yells “DAM YOU IVAN DAM YOU”

-----------------------------------------------------
“You may enter” says a dark and raspy voice.

“Yes master” Florence says as he enters the room.

Upon entering Florence marvels at the throne room of Ivan the Terrible. With a sealing that must have been 3 stories high and tapestries of the finest make depicting Ivan’s triumphs there is all that a man could want. Servants that silently wait at the beck and call of their master, carrying the finest food on golden trays. Beautiful women, from all over the world, laying themselves at his feet wishing simply for a brief moment for their masters time. The finest furs and cloths made of exotic silks money could buy. To say it simply Ivan had it all.

“You sent for me” Florence stated as he bowed to his master, who was currently eating a chicken. Looking up from his meal Ivan seemed to notice Florence for the first time and his brow formed into a crushing portrait of fury.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN YOU INSUFERABLE CURR? I CALLED FOR YOU AGES AGO” Ivan yells, spraying Florence with chicken from his meal.

Knowing better than to reply Florence sits silently waiting for his master’s order.

“Now what did I call you in for…oh right” Ivan says in a very calm voice “EVERYONE OUT NOW” everyone scrambles to get out of the room as fast as possible know if they don’t death will follow.

Have you noticed my teeth Florence? Ivan asks

Truly looking Florence finally notices that they are much longer than human teeth and they are long and pointed.

“They look nice” Florence says

Ignoring him Ivan continues “I have gained the true power over life or death I have gained greatness and now I offer it to you. Join me in eternal life as on of the kindred and escape your mortal chains to enjoy the fruits of our labor till the end of time” Ivan says making grand motions with his hands and steadily walking closer.

“I would be honored” Florence replies

-------------------------------------------------------
Waking with a single tear in his eye and sweat on his brow Florence realizes it is still day.
“What was all that?” he asks out loud as he whips away a few more tears.

Dazed confused and sad for some reason Florence goes back to a fitful sleep haunted by the unknown green eyes.

Nine and a half months ago - the Den, California

Harlow stood, mildly bored, as Anya sat on a chair next to him in the back room of what now was the armoury of the Den, quietly writing into yet another book. He could have sworn this was a new one but he wasn't really concerned about the little she-wolf; she kept her distance from everyone most of the time and it was only when Erzuli wanted something that he'd ever even seen her speak. At least the girl had some sense of pride in herself since he'd first seen her at the mansion she had gone from looking like a street kid to a reasonably attractive... secretary type... was the best way he could describe it.

Looking round he could see plenty of unopened boxes, labeled for only Erzuli's attention. the few that were empty lay either side of the last, vault-like door in the room. These, he guessed, held the weird 'artifacts' the female Pure Blood had been obsessing about all this time. What exactly any of them did he couldn't even begin to guess but Erzuli sure had been pleased when he'd brought her the pair of binoculars. The pathetic wolf in Utah who'd he had taken them from was so crazy and possesive, it had been a pleasure to rid the world of him. That and killing Greg had irritated him. Whatever had happened that day still bugged Harlow: one moment they were being shot at by a paranoid old wolf on a disused airstrip; then Greg, who'd been a good tracker by any standards and someone he'd had hope for with the training, had grasped his face and vanished in a cry of surprize and agony that the rest of them had barely time to react to. The cackling laughter from the old wolf had led Harlow to his hiding place behind a barrel and there the crazy man had been, clutching the binoculars, an empty pistol laying on the floor beside him.

"Pure abject misery in just one object!"

Erzuli slamming open the door and the frankly disturbing delight in her voice pushed Harlow from his thoughts. He looked to her with a half-frown.

"Useful?"

"Oh those are going to be very much so." Grinned the Pure Blood. "I really have to thank you for bringing them to me, despite your... loss. Others might have destroyed them."

He shrugged. "Greg knew what the risks were."

"Greg?" She looked almost thoughtful for a moment."A shame that. But I have something for you. A reward, thankyou, whatever... just don't touch them. Not unless through their bag anyhow. I think this arrangement of ours will lead to great things if this is how you begin!"

She handed him a small, red velvet bag; which he took and opened. His nose wrinkled at the smell from within.

"They stink of..." he grimaced.

"Yes... almonds, I know..."

Harlow looked at the dice in disbelief as she explained what his reward entailed.

Alone. For the first time in his 'life', Gregor was truly alone. His father had been murdered by a band of slavers, who had intended to clap Gregor's whip-thin wrists in irons and carry him off to the Black City to toil in the mines for eternity. They had come skulking down to his father's workshop just beyond the city gates, a pale trio with blades of iron and brands of flame, burning down the house of wood and cutting father deeply in the side. The made-man rushed to his defense, tearing limb from trunk in gory spray, and heaving thatched furniture at the intruders, wishing only to be left alone with his da. His father screamed, greatly he protested at the disturbance of their peace, hating the shattering of his joy at the hands of these unclean brigands. The son shielded his maker with his own body, standing quite still as blade and bullet ate his flesh with metal teeth and fiery gizzard. Skin did part, and stitches fray at the dread onslaught of the attackers, but the resolve of the son made harm to the father impossible. Of the brigands, one did recklessly stray too near the spindly Gregor, whom by the torso did he grab, and sever him from his avarice by force of arm, scattering the pieces 'cross the floor in a most gruesome display. Hesitate, did they, the marauders double, for they feared the strength of the wight before them. With a moan of horrible fright and fear, lurching forward did Gregor near the wicked troupe, his thin fingers peeling flesh from skull and meat from bone. Twitch did he, the robber thing, then moved no more and was still. Terror swelled loudly from lungs of the final intruder, given voice upon the tongue, his madness was made vocal. Clapping fingers white as bone 'bout the pate of the brigand, the son heaved with nary effort made, severing crown from trunk in hideous display. Dead were they, the brigands three, so rush to father doth son go to embrace the fading light held within the lanterns of his da's eyes.

"Son," said he, the craftsman wounded unto death. "Remember well that not to God alone does Creation fall, that father and son can build a better kind of man if that be his path to choose. From the detris of the mortal life were you made, from the cast-off leavings of the dead. So selfish they who lie beneath the earth, for they deny us craftsmen tools to go about our mighty work! Flee this place my son, your home no more it be. Go to the Black City, the wheel of grinding stone pushed by the bodies politic shall crush you not if you are cunning and keen. The pale rulers in their carrion towers of arrogance will be made to know your race by your hands alone, by your creation and your art, you will build a family. Heed my words, o' Gregor, and shed not a tear for me, for my time ends thusly at this hour, cut short by a brigand's razor."

Son cried not as was said by his father, but touched mask of alabaster to his face, as if in a farewell kiss. Carried did he, the body of his sire, to the cellar, a makeshift grave he thusly dug with the tongue of a mute, but contained within the true love of a son without a father. On the morrow, the son did leave, taking nothing from the home of his birth save his father's tools and image.

Wandered did he, through the fields of ash and bone, truly without a home. Nearly to despair did Gregor fall, but the wind brought to him the scent of one like his father. Travelers two were they, gaunt and fair of hair, yet dull of eye and sick of body. From the twisted steel of dwellings past did Gregor stumble, his mouth unable to form words but a mumble, that to them were sounds of lunacy and danger. Pine did he, for others like his da, to touch warm flesh again, to feel anything other than dust and night and mask of alabaster. Flee, did they, the travelers filled with panicked fright at the sight of the spindly visitor. After them did Gregor forge, reaching out with arms rail-thin, hoping to be alive again in the presence of his father's kin. Upon a hole, dug by the burrowing pale wretches of the earth, did a traveler stumble, her arms alone preventing her total fall into the abyss. The other traveler, a man, turned and shouted for Gregor to be gone. Why must he fly? Was not this woman in need of aid? Grasp did he, the trunk of his da's kin, heaving mightily to set her free. With a horrible tear did the first traveler come undone, her bottom half falling beneath the earth as Gregor held her rupturing top, her entrails like wet ropes upon the grey sand. Into a panic Gregor flew, hot tears flowing from beneath his mask of alabaster. Dead! Slain her, had he! His path to violence he did not intend! Then did he remember his father's words well. "If you enact an error, correct it in haste." Dead? No, not she! Not if Gregor fixed the error! Reaching down into the hole, the son snatched the lower half, wiping it clean of dust as the other traveler fled screaming to his fate. Lifting the top half of the woman, he placed it with care upon the lower, smiling happily at the thought of erasing his error. But she did not stir, nor move, nor make a sound, her life's candle having truly drowned.

After some Delays I'm here.
The Mexican dust was agitating Atticus as he sat in some rust bucket of a pick up truck waiting for Nickolai to find and mark the target. Siren was in the next village over getting lodging for the week. He was already approached by three scums asking if he wanted a small baggy of some illegal white dust or a lady friend in some dark and probably ambushed full ally. Atticus didn't mind the offers but they gave him unwanted attention. And knowing Old Man Kick Ass and his code of being a shadow's shadow the way Atticus was going about it would've been high treason in the homeland.
Petrov was in a dimly lighted bar with the ghouls he has been tracking for the last week and had already gotten them to think he ran with some Russian mafia wanting to make a deal with them to travel corpses and cocaine to and from Russia.
"So, how did you get in the body running game my Russian friend." The slime ball ask with curiosity in his eyes and some disgust in his voice when he pronounced Russian. It just got a smirk out of Petrov as the body runner and his ghoul friend sat there across from him trying to get him to break.
" When i was a kid i needed some cash to pay for my mom's meds well back then the commies didn't like the fact that people who were low on the ladder needed so much help. So i had to join the mafia that i'm currently representing to get the cash. I saw a vamp drain a guy and once i told my boss about it he sent me to this type of work trying to set up deals with people who need more exotic taste in food." Both nodded their heads and filed out as they could understood the pitiful boy who needed money for his mom's operation story... unbelievable that they fell for it but they fell for it.
Atticus was distracted by a young Latina that was strutting her stuff down the road and being a man he was enjoying the view. So much he didn't realize his boss got into the truck was staring at him with some angry aggression in his eyes. "Atticus what the Feth are you doing?" the old communist said in a flat voice waiting for a stupid excuse.
"Observing the surroundings" Atticus said still attached to the sight and after the few moments of processing the voice of who asked he then turn his head to say another answer. " Observing for any unnatural activity while you were inside the bar. Sir." the answer was rewarded with a dissaproving nod and the truck's engine was started with a roar that shrank into a puff and the creaky wheels began to roll. After two hours of boring desert and flying dust they reach the small ranching village that's life blood was goat milk. The sum of the community were standing in one of the lots that held a pack of scared goats looking over a few dead goats.

Nice, but I don't seem to see your character sheet posted anywhere in this thread shroud.

wait a sec i'll find it....
Found it...Like a needle in a hay stack

Player-Shroud010
Character- Atticus Risus
Race-Human
Faction-Hunter (Witch hunter) The Hunters of the Bear.
Physical Description- He is 6 even and he is always wearing a soviet issue trench jacket but has much different insignias then the old soviet uniform. He has black that he tends to dye ether blue or green, currently black and blue. He has some stubble but not much real facial hair. He wears glasses on his off time because his contacts irritate him.

Virtue-Loyalty
Vice- faithless
Other Information- Doesn’t mind werewolves all that much has been seen several times negotiating territory contracts with them in the past.
Wargear-Shotgun(free): Basic weapon (M1014), Light sword(20pts)Stab Vest(20pts)Stake Launcher(50pts)

Backstory
Atticus was was thirteen when his parents were brutally murdered and drained of blood by vampires while they were touring in Moscow in 2000. Two years later he was discovered by the still loyal to the soviet union "Hunters of the Bears" who mission was to eradicate all vampires that stayed within the Union's borders and recruit any other supernatural force for Stalin's secret army if they refused they were added to a list of terminations to be made in future years. The army has deserted the scythe and hammer for freedom and by doing so made the hunters weak and left on the brink of legend. Atticus showed talent for hunting the fanged assailants as well as negotiating with their natural enemies the were wolves. The organization decided that the capitalist born talent may be useful and made him into an apprentice when he was sixteen. For six years it took him to reach their standards at the age of twenty two and another year to prove he shouldn't be used as bait anymore. Now on his twenty forth birthday the organization has brought up a name that stirred deeply repressed memories for Atticus. A jumbled and erratic vision of the dark Moscow ally shows two unfamiliar figures gorging themselves on the bodies of his parents.
"Sevk. These Americans are delicious! Maybe we should go for more tourists sometime next week?" The vision broke itself as several of his friends had grabbed him and pushed on the ground as his pistol pointed at the leader, a man known as G.K.B. Each taking a turn trying to knock him unconscious. Atticus was thrown in a pit where they starved out vampires untill they decided to let him talk. Once he explained that it was Sevk who killed his family and he was going through a mental relapse was when G.K.B. decided to put him in the scouting cell in charge of finding Sevk. With him was Nicolai Petrov and a girl a year his junior Siren.

Petrov
A senior member and head disciplinary judge within the Hunters of Bears. He is G.K.B.'s oldest and closest friend. Rumuours claim that he had a mage extend his life so he can serve the organization even longer.
Class Tank
Virtrue: Honest
Vice Wrath


Siren
Was raised by the organization was used as bait for four years since she was 9. She got her name becuase she would sing lullabies to herself so she wouldn't be frighten but like the sirens of the Odyssey the songs brought the monsters to their deaths. When she was 19 she was ambushed and her throat was severely damage nearly destroying her vocal cords. She can still speak but causes her great pain, speaks through sign language.
Class Lazarus
Virtrue: Caring
Vice wrath.

Mordoskul wrote:Alone. For the first time in his 'life', Gregor was truly alone. His father had been murdered by a band of slavers, who had intended to clap Gregor's whip-thin wrists in irons and carry him off to the Black City to toil in the mines for eternity. They had come skulking down to his father's workshop just beyond the city gates, a pale trio with blades of iron and brands of flame, burning down the house of wood and cutting father deeply in the side. The made-man rushed to his defense, tearing limb from trunk in gory spray, and heaving thatched furniture at the intruders, wishing only to be left alone with his da. His father screamed, greatly he protested at the disturbance of their peace, hating the shattering of his joy at the hands of these unclean brigands. The son shielded his maker with his own body, standing quite still as blade and bullet ate his flesh with metal teeth and fiery gizzard. Skin did part, and stitches fray at the dread onslaught of the attackers, but the resolve of the son made harm to the father impossible. Of the brigands, one did recklessly stray too near the spindly Gregor, whom by the torso did he grab, and sever him from his avarice by force of arm, scattering the pieces 'cross the floor in a most gruesome display. Hesitate, did they, the marauders double, for they feared the strength of the wight before them. With a moan of horrible fright and fear, lurching forward did Gregor near the wicked troupe, his thin fingers peeling flesh from skull and meat from bone. Twitch did he, the robber thing, then moved no more and was still. Terror swelled loudly from lungs of the final intruder, given voice upon the tongue, his madness was made vocal. Clapping fingers white as bone 'bout the pate of the brigand, the son heaved with nary effort made, severing crown from trunk in hideous display. Dead were they, the brigands three, so rush to father doth son go to embrace the fading light held within the lanterns of his da's eyes.

"Son," said he, the craftsman wounded unto death. "Remember well that not to God alone does Creation fall, that father and son can build a better kind of man if that be his path to choose. From the detris of the mortal life were you made, from the cast-off leavings of the dead. So selfish they who lie beneath the earth, for they deny us craftsmen tools to go about our mighty work! Flee this place my son, your home no more it be. Go to the Black City, the wheel of grinding stone pushed by the bodies politic shall crush you not if you are cunning and keen. The pale rulers in their carrion towers of arrogance will be made to know your race by your hands alone, by your creation and your art, you will build a family. Heed my words, o' Gregor, and shed not a tear for me, for my time ends thusly at this hour, cut short by a brigand's razor."

Son cried not as was said by his father, but touched mask of alabaster to his face, as if in a farewell kiss. Carried did he, the body of his sire, to the cellar, a makeshift grave he thusly dug with the tongue of a mute, but contained within the true love of a son without a father. On the morrow, the son did leave, taking nothing from the home of his birth save his father's tools and image.

Wandered did he, through the fields of ash and bone, truly without a home. Nearly to despair did Gregor fall, but the wind brought to him the scent of one like his father. Travelers two were they, gaunt and fair of hair, yet dull of eye and sick of body. From the twisted steel of dwellings past did Gregor stumble, his mouth unable to form words but a mumble, that to them were sounds of lunacy and danger. Pine did he, for others like his da, to touch warm flesh again, to feel anything other than dust and night and mask of alabaster. Flee, did they, the travelers filled with panicked fright at the sight of the spindly visitor. After them did Gregor forge, reaching out with arms rail-thin, hoping to be alive again in the presence of his father's kin. Upon a hole, dug by the burrowing pale wretches of the earth, did a traveler stumble, her arms alone preventing her total fall into the abyss. The other traveler, a man, turned and shouted for Gregor to be gone. Why must he fly? Was not this woman in need of aid? Grasp did he, the trunk of his da's kin, heaving mightily to set her free. With a horrible tear did the first traveler come undone, her bottom half falling beneath the earth as Gregor held her rupturing top, her entrails like wet ropes upon the grey sand. Into a panic Gregor flew, hot tears flowing from beneath his mask of alabaster. Dead! Slain her, had he! His path to violence he did not intend! Then did he remember his father's words well. "If you enact an error, correct it in haste." Dead? No, not she! Not if Gregor fixed the error! Reaching down into the hole, the son snatched the lower half, wiping it clean of dust as the other traveler fled screaming to his fate. Lifting the top half of the woman, he placed it with care upon the lower, smiling happily at the thought of erasing his error. But she did not stir, nor move, nor make a sound, her life's candle having truly drowned.

Nice one William Shakespeare.

Dammit. Can I get a delete?

... Sasha Reynolds hung up her phone and returned to her files, cross referancing compiled data reguarding every know Mage and Djinn on the Networks radar...
File after file flickered past her eyes on the screen before she finally paused...reading intently...a small smile spreading over her ruby red lips..
" Hmm yes" she purred " He would do nicely"
She quickly printed all data on the subject called " Illuminatus" and slipped the stack of pages into a folder, marking it Priority ....
" Yes" she said with a nod " He would do nicely indeed"

Unfolding her long legs, she stood...stretching ...sighing as her spine crackled, she threw a quick glance towards the office clock...almost 4:00 AM..
Though she was extreamly tired...she decided to make one last call before retiring to her quarters...
She sat for a moment..waiting for an answer on the other line...after a moment she spoke..
" This is Reynolds" she said..." I felt it prudent to call and request that T.R. be informed that I may have located the perfect catalyst.."
She sat quietly for a moment...listening to the voice at the other end of the line...then hung up..
She exited her small office and walked slowly down the hallway...musing to herself how important this Illiminatus could be to Project 66.

Andy was up again, this time the torture chamber would be his office instead of his hell. The offender, a ghoul, the offense, suggesting physical relations with Claudia. Andy had thought about the punishment, the ghoul was going to have his tongue removed, but how to do so was the major question. Andy looked at the chart on his little metal desk, a one way mirror above it and the rest of the room along with his tools on the opposite end. Claudius like to watch the tortures sometimes, and it was mandatory for Andy's punishment to be witnessed to make sure he wasn't getting anything less than what had been ordered, Andy could tell them that it wasn't, he counted each time. The ghoul was sitting in the chair, staring at Andy who was busy hunched over the desk and staring at the clipboard with the information on it. Andy turned to look at the ghoul and mumbled to himself, it would be hard for him to actually do anything because he was missing a hand, but he always managed to find a way. The buzzing announced the use of a small speaker and the presence of someone in the witness room behind the mirror. "Well, get on with it then.". The voice was all too familiar, Claudius stood behind the mirror, waiting for Andy to do what he was supposed to.

"Yes sir." Andy said while turning to the ghoul and walking over to him, "You're not just going to let me cut out your tongue are you?" Andy asked the ghoul who sat with his jaws locked and his eyes staring defiantly at him. Andy shrugged "Have it your way then." he said while turning to the wall and opening up a small toolbox, after looking through the tools he pulled out a hemostat. It was small, but would suit its task nicely. Andy stood towering over the seated ghoul and held the utensil so that the light from above would reflect off of it, not necessary but a nice psychological effect.

He put the hemostat over the nose and pulled it tightly closed, the ghoul began to breath through his mouth thanks to the closing of his nostrils and also due to the amount of pain he was going through as the metal grooves bit into the skin of the nose. "There we go, you're now a mouth breather." Andy said as he patted the ghoul on the back, "Now you're probably going to try to bite my hand if I reach for your tongue so... I'll just use this." he said as he pulled a pair of filter pliers out of a different toolbox and clamped them down on the ghoul's tongue, the teeth on the end bit into the tongue and gave a good grip for Andy to pull them with. The ghoul's eyes began to produce tears as a small amount of blood began to trickle from the tongue, and eventually most of it was outside of the ghoul's mouth but still attached. "Now I have to cut your tongue out," Andy said with a sigh, "but seeing as though I don't have another hand to use a knife or something this will do." he said as he lowered his right hand before launching it up into the bottom of the ghoul's chin, causing him to bite entirely through the meaty part of his tongue. Blood poured out of the tongue and into the ghoul's mouth and he began to gag on his own blood. Andy set the tongue and pliers on a nearby cart and then removed the hemostat from his nose and set it on the cart as well before pushing the ghoul's head forward with his right hand. As the blood poured freely from the mouth and onto the ghoul's lap Andy pulled out a small flame torch and turned it on, the blue flame would be used to cauterize the bleeding muscle. "Stick out what's left of your tongue." Andy said as the ghoul sheepishly obliged, his eyes closed to prevent himself from seeing what was in store. The sizzling sound of burning tissue filled the air along with its complementary smell, the blackened muscle would no longer bleed, but would hurt like hell and the ghoul proved that it hurt with his sobs as he sat tied to the chair. Andy began replacing his tools as the door to the right of the mirror unlocked and produced a happy looking Claudius who began a slow clap. "Well done Andy, well done." he said as he approached both Andy and the seated ghoul, "Your creativity is pleasing when it comes to matters such as these."

"I just do what I can to get the job done sir." Andy said as respectively as he could. Claudia he could get away with being snide, but Claudius actually owned his life and the collective lives of his family.

"Yes, but you do it so nicely." Claudius said as he examined the crying ghoul's mouth, "Using his own mouth against himself, almost poetic in my opinion.".

"I'm glad you enjoy my work sir, its the reason I'm still here after all." Andy replied humbly, "Of course its by your own graciousness that you even gave me a chance in the first place."

"Well, I appreciate the ass kissing Andy." Claudius said, "But there is something else I wanted to discuss with you. You may have heard through your future in-laws that you have a new hand coming your way."

"Yes sir I have, I appreciate the efforts you're allowing him to go through to produce one for me." Andy finished replacing the tools he had just used.

"It is not without its purpose." Claudius said, "I plan for you to use it soon."

"What's going on?" Andy asked.

"Nothing serious, just a little gamble I have with another member of my kind." Claudius said as he caressed the sobbing ghoul's head, twirling the ghoul's hair with his fingers.

"Well sir, what do I have to do?" Andy asked, worried about the possibilities, he dreaded having to face any hunters especially any that he may have met before.

"Just a little bit of boxing." Claudius replied.

"Boxing," Andy said, "who would accept a bet against a werewolf in boxing... What kind of thing would I be fighting sir?

"Just a really, really big ghoul." Claudius replied, it was going to be one of those Opriknikki, but it would be frowned upon for a vampire to fight a werewolf in a fight. If you won, then you would probably have to be killed for it."

"Well, if its just a ghoul then." Andy said before catching himself, "Well I don't have a choice anyways, but how soon?"

"Tomorrow, and you need to get the hand put on today." Claudius said, "Head over to the workshop and they're already waiting for you."

"Well, thank you sir." Andy said, "I won't disappoint.". Andy left the room and walked out into the long hallway to the outside, placed there to prevent any sunlight from accidentally entering the house. Andy found himself almost skipping towards the workshop, he was incredibly excited at the aspect of getting a new hand and even more excited at the prospect of actually fighting something. The workshop billowed smoke from both the furnace powering the tools, and the chimney providing any extra heat. Upon entering he found a mostly cleared table with several humans and ghouls standing near it, he was beckoned to the table and a mask placed over his face for anesthesia. Within seconds he was asleep and over the course of several hours, the prosthetic hand would be attached to him via leftover muscles.

*******************

Andy woke with foggy vision, the gas had really done a number, but his right arm felt heavier for sure. He lifted his arm above his head and stared at it in the light, a dull metal recreation of the human hand replaced the void that would have been there. He touched the metal with his other hand and was amazed at how soft the metal felt. "Polished it goot." a voice said to his right and Andy looked over in order to see who was saying it. Friedrich sat there, hands folded in his lap, "You should see the palm.". Andy's interest was piqued as he rotated his hand and could see several overlapping pieces of metal, "You can fold your palm mit those plates in place. You can also bend the fingers too, might take some time to make it all work.".

Andy felt his muscles twitching as they pulled the mechanical fingers close slowly. He was amazed at the fact that he was able to use his normal muscle control albeit weak. "How is this possible?" Andy asked.

"I left room in the hand and we pulled some muscle into it." Friedrich said, "There ist a opening in the hand that allowed your natural muscles to fill in where it would be in your natural hand. Now the fingers themselves are too small, zo they are all mechanical but use your nerves and other muscles to work." the ghoul continued to explain his device as Andy tested all of its features out, it felt almost natural, the fingers weakly opening and closing as he needed to get used to the new strains. Andy left the workshop a happier man, and more importantly a man with two hands again.