06-21-2017, 09:37 PM
The windy grasslands and farms had turned into thick, dense forest. Heavy green branches full of slender, bunched up leaves dripped with the dew of a previous monsoon. Karl Jak obviously had a fortune on weather control technology. Enel had taken to launching himself into the air and landing on impossibly whippy branches, then waiting for his erstwhile ally to catch up. The man never passed up and opportunity to subtly flex his "godly" might over those he deemed his lessers. Still, the way he'd executed Odin....nasty work.
Hendy had known a guy with a similar cruel streak. One of the last Princes of Baltimore, before the Pillar of Seven sent the Justicars to run the city. Brujah named Pyotr. Big russian bastard, fat as shit and twice as strong. He had a fondness for literally squeezing the life out of dissidents before ripping off his head. But he'd been taken care of. To the day of Harlan's execution, no one knew who had offed him. They found his fat fucking corpse ripped to shreds and lain out for the sun to turn to ash.
Hendy's sources had told him it was a Giovanni hitman, so the logical conclusion was someone within the Camarilla's court had paid off the spaghetti eaters to knock off the Prince. Giovanni were necromancers, which meant those nasty wounds had been caused by Wraiths. Hendy shuddered. Even the memory was enough to chill his dead, sallow skin.
"Coming, Vic? We do have places to be...especially before nightfall!" Enel pointed at his collar, while Vic looked at his, fastened around his ankle. He'd barely noticed it, it was so comfortable...but the thing carried enough explosive to reduce him and any other contestant wearing one to so much fine dust. "Yeah....we'd better shake a leg, I don't wanna have come this far just to get 86'd by a damn bracelet."
Hendy had known a guy with a similar cruel streak. One of the last Princes of Baltimore, before the Pillar of Seven sent the Justicars to run the city. Brujah named Pyotr. Big russian bastard, fat as shit and twice as strong. He had a fondness for literally squeezing the life out of dissidents before ripping off his head. But he'd been taken care of. To the day of Harlan's execution, no one knew who had offed him. They found his fat fucking corpse ripped to shreds and lain out for the sun to turn to ash.
Hendy's sources had told him it was a Giovanni hitman, so the logical conclusion was someone within the Camarilla's court had paid off the spaghetti eaters to knock off the Prince. Giovanni were necromancers, which meant those nasty wounds had been caused by Wraiths. Hendy shuddered. Even the memory was enough to chill his dead, sallow skin.
"Coming, Vic? We do have places to be...especially before nightfall!" Enel pointed at his collar, while Vic looked at his, fastened around his ankle. He'd barely noticed it, it was so comfortable...but the thing carried enough explosive to reduce him and any other contestant wearing one to so much fine dust. "Yeah....we'd better shake a leg, I don't wanna have come this far just to get 86'd by a damn bracelet."
Quote:Enel and Hendy moved from A1 to B1
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”