02-15-2017, 08:47 PM
The Ravnos watched as the aggravated priest underwent several facial expressions, each more grimacing and unhappy than the last, before finally
relaxing his body and standing down. The imposing Scotsman mumbled some nonsense about justice and raised the recreated weapon he'd accepted back at Harlan, causing the Kindred to raise the gun again with finger on the trigger. But that intimidation tactic was clearly revealed after a few tense seconds, and both men lowered their weapons. "Ah. Well, Father. Glad to see we could come to a nonviolent solution," Harlan mused as the priest backed off. "But I really must be going now...those gentlemen in the distance do not look like they would be so inclined to have an amicable chat. Ta, friends. I hope to meet you all again under better circumstances."
The still warm Colt Python went behind his back and was stowed comfortably in the hem of his pants. He turned smartly on a dime, his vampiric sense picking up the thunder of hootbeats, a full six horseman riding towards the fountain. Chainmail and swords clinked on their outfits, and it didn't take an idiot to figure out they were here to avenge their fallen comrade. He heard one of them give a shout as they spied the gathering, the man yelling to his fellows to increase speed and run down the Ravnos in the suit. Harlan broke into a run.
Ah, what a thrill! He hadn't been chased down like this in, oh...20 years! No small amount of time for a mortal, but to him it was as a drop in a bucket. Although, the feeling of his dead muscles pumping, the hot vitae inside him forced to circulate to power his unliving form, it was still quite the rush. Something about this place had sapped his powers, and he was slightly perturbed to discover that the horsemen were beginning to gain on him, the shouts and metallic noises of men drawing blades as they closed in ringing in his ears. To work, then. He shook out his sleeves and flexed his fingers, reaching subconsciously for his new power source. Omnilium would be shaved, minutes amounts extrapolated into fantastical sights and sounds.
All of a sudden, the man they were chasing exploded with a loud crack, a whirlwind of small, thin squares spinning in a circular pattern before dispersing in all different directions. Playing cards had replaced the vampire's form, and they all fell in different directions. Clumps of the red and white squares found each other once more, and spun in a dizzying pattern until they reformed into perfect copies of the gray suited vampire. All four of the figures took off running in different directions, and the confusion wrought from such an unexpected tactic bought Harlan precious moments to increase his lead. It didn't take too long for the horsemen to regroup and split into pursuit once more, although their forces were thinned. The Ravnos could feel the insistent tugging connection to his illusory clones, beginning to feel the familiar mental strain of maintaining multiple illusions. And it was about to get worse.
Behind two of the clones, the ground suddenly opened up and gouts of flame spewed from the cracked white floor of the Nexus. Horses stopped on a dime and reared back, startled and spooked by the sudden eruption. The two that hadn't been protected by an emission of fire were swiftly caught up with, their true natures revealed when swords simply went through them and they disappeared in a smoky puff of unbelief. Harlan dismissed the remaining clone with a snap, it already having served it's purpose. The clones and the fire had brought him precious time to concentrate, running hard with his eyes closed and starting to feel the strain of such strenuous illusion casting. But he could see the gate ahead of him, men in shiny white armor manning a guard post and watching the approaching chaos through high tech binoculars.
SCREEEEEEECH
A smoky, half see through car suddenly rumbled out of nowhere and pulled up alongside Harlan, driven by a younger version of himself that was also simultaneously shooting a Thompson submachine Gun wildly out of the back window. With a mighty leap, the real Kindred jumped onto the old style Ford's trunk, slamming the trunk as it accelerated and a crossbow bolt embedded itself in his hat, nearly taking it off. "Fuck!" The man swore as the car flickered in and out of reality, the horsemen nearly close enough to give him a haircut.
But it was too late. As the car finally gave up the ghost and disappeared from existence, the momentum flung Harlan over the guard post in front of the Coruscant gate, brightly colored laser shots arcing from behind the barricade towards the Camelot guards. Both sides traded projectiles for a few seconds, but the pursuers were already turning aside and riding outside the range of the Stormtrooper's laser guns. The captain of the horsemen shook a fist, and called out to the prone Ravnos. "You had better hope your new friends protect you, vampire! Camelot's finest will be hunting for your head!" They turned as a unit, and trotted back towards the fountain, Harlan panting on the ground behind the Coruscant barricade and giving his new shiny white friends a winning smile.
"Sanctuary?" He asked meekly.
relaxing his body and standing down. The imposing Scotsman mumbled some nonsense about justice and raised the recreated weapon he'd accepted back at Harlan, causing the Kindred to raise the gun again with finger on the trigger. But that intimidation tactic was clearly revealed after a few tense seconds, and both men lowered their weapons. "Ah. Well, Father. Glad to see we could come to a nonviolent solution," Harlan mused as the priest backed off. "But I really must be going now...those gentlemen in the distance do not look like they would be so inclined to have an amicable chat. Ta, friends. I hope to meet you all again under better circumstances."
The still warm Colt Python went behind his back and was stowed comfortably in the hem of his pants. He turned smartly on a dime, his vampiric sense picking up the thunder of hootbeats, a full six horseman riding towards the fountain. Chainmail and swords clinked on their outfits, and it didn't take an idiot to figure out they were here to avenge their fallen comrade. He heard one of them give a shout as they spied the gathering, the man yelling to his fellows to increase speed and run down the Ravnos in the suit. Harlan broke into a run.
Ah, what a thrill! He hadn't been chased down like this in, oh...20 years! No small amount of time for a mortal, but to him it was as a drop in a bucket. Although, the feeling of his dead muscles pumping, the hot vitae inside him forced to circulate to power his unliving form, it was still quite the rush. Something about this place had sapped his powers, and he was slightly perturbed to discover that the horsemen were beginning to gain on him, the shouts and metallic noises of men drawing blades as they closed in ringing in his ears. To work, then. He shook out his sleeves and flexed his fingers, reaching subconsciously for his new power source. Omnilium would be shaved, minutes amounts extrapolated into fantastical sights and sounds.
All of a sudden, the man they were chasing exploded with a loud crack, a whirlwind of small, thin squares spinning in a circular pattern before dispersing in all different directions. Playing cards had replaced the vampire's form, and they all fell in different directions. Clumps of the red and white squares found each other once more, and spun in a dizzying pattern until they reformed into perfect copies of the gray suited vampire. All four of the figures took off running in different directions, and the confusion wrought from such an unexpected tactic bought Harlan precious moments to increase his lead. It didn't take too long for the horsemen to regroup and split into pursuit once more, although their forces were thinned. The Ravnos could feel the insistent tugging connection to his illusory clones, beginning to feel the familiar mental strain of maintaining multiple illusions. And it was about to get worse.
Behind two of the clones, the ground suddenly opened up and gouts of flame spewed from the cracked white floor of the Nexus. Horses stopped on a dime and reared back, startled and spooked by the sudden eruption. The two that hadn't been protected by an emission of fire were swiftly caught up with, their true natures revealed when swords simply went through them and they disappeared in a smoky puff of unbelief. Harlan dismissed the remaining clone with a snap, it already having served it's purpose. The clones and the fire had brought him precious time to concentrate, running hard with his eyes closed and starting to feel the strain of such strenuous illusion casting. But he could see the gate ahead of him, men in shiny white armor manning a guard post and watching the approaching chaos through high tech binoculars.
SCREEEEEEECH
A smoky, half see through car suddenly rumbled out of nowhere and pulled up alongside Harlan, driven by a younger version of himself that was also simultaneously shooting a Thompson submachine Gun wildly out of the back window. With a mighty leap, the real Kindred jumped onto the old style Ford's trunk, slamming the trunk as it accelerated and a crossbow bolt embedded itself in his hat, nearly taking it off. "Fuck!" The man swore as the car flickered in and out of reality, the horsemen nearly close enough to give him a haircut.
But it was too late. As the car finally gave up the ghost and disappeared from existence, the momentum flung Harlan over the guard post in front of the Coruscant gate, brightly colored laser shots arcing from behind the barricade towards the Camelot guards. Both sides traded projectiles for a few seconds, but the pursuers were already turning aside and riding outside the range of the Stormtrooper's laser guns. The captain of the horsemen shook a fist, and called out to the prone Ravnos. "You had better hope your new friends protect you, vampire! Camelot's finest will be hunting for your head!" They turned as a unit, and trotted back towards the fountain, Harlan panting on the ground behind the Coruscant barricade and giving his new shiny white friends a winning smile.
"Sanctuary?" He asked meekly.
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”