12-09-2016, 09:11 PM
"The kindred known as Victor Hendy, aka Harlan Higgs, has been tried and found guilty of making pacts with demons and consorting with the Baali. Such a blatant betrayal of everything the Camarilla and this city stands for can only have one penalty." The Prince bowed his head, mugging for the entire court. Fucking foppish cunt. His throat whispered, sounding every one of his three hundred years as he pronounced the sentence. ".....death by sunrise."
Harlan rolled his eyes. "Roight, then. Can we get on with it? Don't want to be late, you're going to give me the Rotschreck with your fucking speeches. Hell, that'd be a worse punishment than the dawn, just chain me to a wall and practice your public spea- ungh!" The Sheriff's fist crashed into his jaw and he felt several teeth shatter. "Silence, autarkis filth. Your death is just another step closer to eliminating your bloodline for good. Thieves and tricksters. Good for nothing but chaos."
Harlan opened his mouth again to quip, but the big Gangrel was faster and socked him again, sending blood and shattered dentin onto the con man's gray pinstripe suit. The Prince watched with a steely gaze as the Ravnos was hauled to his feet and dragged into the back room of the Court, which was a powder room. Harlan rolled his eyes internally. Fucking Toreador and their predilection for "high society". He was going to die on the roof of an art gallery.
His wrists ached, the big steel spikes going into them and holding him to the stout wooden cross firmly affixed. He felt weak, tired, sluggish. They'd drained him of blood, of life, of Vitae. He had nothing to fuel even the most insignificant apparition, an illusory knife to cut his bonds, a lighter to burn the rope. His goose was cooked. It all came down to this. He should have blown town months ago, but no; he had to get soft, get comfortable. He'd had to play his little games and spin the wheel like the raggedy man he was. Ah, well. You could only ride a hot streak for so long, and a hundred years was a pretty good life.
They wouldn't get their show. No begging or pleading for the fucking Elders to use as propaganda, no "lesson in humility". He'd face their judgement with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. "Oh Danny Boy, The pipes, the pipes are callin'..." He could see the red sun breaking through the ashen clouds, the first glint of daylight on the horizon. "From glen to glen, and down the mountain side....the summer's gone....and all the roses fallin' " He could hear Jimmy's voice in the back of his mind. "Taint so bad, kid. Least you didn't have your own childe suck your soul out through yer neck." Harlan cleared his throat and finished the verse as the first rays of sunlight started to sear his scalp, smoke rising from his head. "It's you, it's you...must go....and I must biiiii-"
Downstairs, The Prince watched the monitor with satisfaction as Harlan Higgs burst into flames and started burning.
Upstairs, Harlan felt the heat disappear from his scalp, and the sudden lack of metal spikes in his wrists. He still couldn't move, spread eagled like christ on the cross himself. But then, something white and indistinct slowly appeared in front of him.
He swore. "Jaysus fookin' Chroist."
The being took definition, and opened an invisible mouth, gently shaking it's head.
"My name is Omni."
Harlan rolled his eyes. "Roight, then. Can we get on with it? Don't want to be late, you're going to give me the Rotschreck with your fucking speeches. Hell, that'd be a worse punishment than the dawn, just chain me to a wall and practice your public spea- ungh!" The Sheriff's fist crashed into his jaw and he felt several teeth shatter. "Silence, autarkis filth. Your death is just another step closer to eliminating your bloodline for good. Thieves and tricksters. Good for nothing but chaos."
Harlan opened his mouth again to quip, but the big Gangrel was faster and socked him again, sending blood and shattered dentin onto the con man's gray pinstripe suit. The Prince watched with a steely gaze as the Ravnos was hauled to his feet and dragged into the back room of the Court, which was a powder room. Harlan rolled his eyes internally. Fucking Toreador and their predilection for "high society". He was going to die on the roof of an art gallery.
His wrists ached, the big steel spikes going into them and holding him to the stout wooden cross firmly affixed. He felt weak, tired, sluggish. They'd drained him of blood, of life, of Vitae. He had nothing to fuel even the most insignificant apparition, an illusory knife to cut his bonds, a lighter to burn the rope. His goose was cooked. It all came down to this. He should have blown town months ago, but no; he had to get soft, get comfortable. He'd had to play his little games and spin the wheel like the raggedy man he was. Ah, well. You could only ride a hot streak for so long, and a hundred years was a pretty good life.
They wouldn't get their show. No begging or pleading for the fucking Elders to use as propaganda, no "lesson in humility". He'd face their judgement with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. "Oh Danny Boy, The pipes, the pipes are callin'..." He could see the red sun breaking through the ashen clouds, the first glint of daylight on the horizon. "From glen to glen, and down the mountain side....the summer's gone....and all the roses fallin' " He could hear Jimmy's voice in the back of his mind. "Taint so bad, kid. Least you didn't have your own childe suck your soul out through yer neck." Harlan cleared his throat and finished the verse as the first rays of sunlight started to sear his scalp, smoke rising from his head. "It's you, it's you...must go....and I must biiiii-"
Downstairs, The Prince watched the monitor with satisfaction as Harlan Higgs burst into flames and started burning.
Upstairs, Harlan felt the heat disappear from his scalp, and the sudden lack of metal spikes in his wrists. He still couldn't move, spread eagled like christ on the cross himself. But then, something white and indistinct slowly appeared in front of him.
He swore. "Jaysus fookin' Chroist."
The being took definition, and opened an invisible mouth, gently shaking it's head.
"My name is Omni."
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”