[North Shore Nights] Chapter Three: Deepening Night.

The Ourobouros


It looks up from its work, and smiles at Gavin.


"Ah, Mr. Cosgrave. I am well, I trust you are, too?"


It surveys the arrangement, and sighs. Much to do. It turns to Gavin-


"Would you like to see something horrifying?" it asks, hefting the bag with the 'heart' inside.
 
To Anna


Adulio gets a sly smile, "Wouldn't that also include getting backers? I know the Carters love you well, that much is shown at Elysium. Words can cut, yes, but just doing thus won't strengthen your position either."
 
To Valentine


"Such is the way of things now. I am impressed you didn't kill them. I know nothing of you, but...well, most Unaligned I've met in this city prefer to let their fangs talk for themselves. Is that not the most curious thing of this city? A city of fang and hate, simmering under a shiny edifice."
 
Valentine


Valentine shrugs. "For the Keeper of the Traditions to murder some policemen in the street would have been... impolitic, I think."
 
Gavin


Gavin leans forward and peers at the contents of the bag with mingled interest and disgust. "That's the second-most horrifying thing I've seen all night. Are they all like this, then?" He gestures vaguely at the corpses.
 
To Valentine and Blake


"Indeed." The man grows quiet like a tomb for some minutes.


"How do you fare tonight, Blake? Better than past nights, I trust? Any leads on the creatures?"
 
Ourobouros


"A chewy centre in every one, possibly." it notes, and stares into the bag briefly. Is that thing still.... animate?


"Someone is carving up Kindred and turning their genitalia into engines for their wooden monsters."
 
Garrison Blake


"I am well, Master. Other than having more research to do." Blake's face grimaces. "No solid leads yet. More bits and pieces. I haven't yet strung them into a cohesive whole. Something I hoped to do with Valentine. The Ourobouros is studying some of the wooden golems Valentine and Ms. Selene took out tonight. I haven't spoken with him yet."
 
To Valentine and Blake


The old vampire hums, scrunching up his dark face. The grimace so often seen in representations of the Golden Horde.


"You may wish to do so soon. The Sun will be up in hours. If you do not find a place to sleep tonight, Valentine, or the hour grows too late, please, take a room here. I have many. You are welcome for this night."
 
To Blake


As you and Valentine exit, you hear your master call your name again. "Was there a man in a suit down in the foyer still when you arrived?"
 
Ourobouros


"I'd really welcome it, thank you. We just need to pry the... hearts, out, and put them in the bag. Might as well distribute them throughout the Order for study, and a couple of the torsos, too."


With that, it sets about opening the cavities with a literal bone saw.
 
Gavin


Gavin sets into the grisly task, absent-mindedly flicking away bits of gristle and gore off his forearms every time he reaches in to tug one of the organs out, cataloguing which precisely belongs to which body as he does so (who knows when such information could prove vital, and it was simply neater that way besides...), idly letting the play of elastic membranes and the slick feeling of cold bodily fluids across his fingers wash away the night's ordeal. As he works, he makes idle small talk: complimenting his fellow Dragon on his bone saw, for example.


"A fine instrument. I used to work in carpentry myself," he grunts, pulling at a particularly stubborn item lodged and caught within one of the corpses.
 
To Ourobouros and Gavin


One by one, the sick little things are bagged and tagged, so to speak. The hearts are still beating in some of the bags, expunging their last fluids and slowly going silent. One torso heaves in a death spasm as its cut into and its heart room, the wood sickeningly twitching on the floor. tap-tap...tap-tap-tap...
 
Ourobouros


"Thank you, I made it myself. I imagine you can comment on the workmanship of these things, then? The chassis, at least."


It regards one heart with tilted head before dropping it in the bag.


"Hm, if these are made from Kindred, it's odd that they have yet to decompose. Let alone cease... throbbing."


As if in epiphany, the Ourobouros checks the interior more thoroughly for arteries or veins.
 
Garrison Blake


Blake nods again. "Yes. Howard. He's not Kindred. Or he can hide that. My Beast had no reaction to him. Why do you ask?"
 
To Blake


"His name is Howard? He told me his name was Sabotei...he was Asian, wasn't he?" Your Master looks very confused all of a sudden.
 
To Ourobouros


No veins, no arteries. Residue and milky pools of fluid, but nothing more. Just the etchings of sigils like on the fleshy parts.
 
Garrison Blake


"Forgive me, master. This was a different person. Unless. Was this Sabotei human?"
 
Ourobouros


"More runes" it examines its hand, then flicks it contemptuously, "And a fluid I would prefer not to speculate too hard about."


Back to the grisly harvest, then...
 
To Blake


"Yes...I'm almost certain. Or...hmm. Carry on then, Blake." You leave your master as his look turns troubled, the last you see is him rising to turn to his bookshelf flush against the wall behind his prayer mat.
 
To Ouro and Gavin


In another ten minutes, you'll have all your prizes and a floor covered in sawdust and God knows what's leaking onto the old rushes there. Best not to think about it. That one husk won't stop twichting, why?! It's getting annoying.


thump-thump


"Ah, cutting open your prizes, gentlemen?" 'Howard' says, suddenly there in the archway again.
 
Garrison Blake


Blake bows to Elderton and then exits his chambers. He looks for Valentine once outside.
 

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