[North Shore Nights] Chapter Three: Deepening Night.

To Ourobouros


Nothing, just a long street, punctuated by the few drifting notes of idle chit-chat coming from the gas station a ways down on the corner. The church and graveyard across the street are quiet. As they always are, even on Sundays and Wednesday night. No ghosts, nor goblins, nor songs of an unnerving quality. You never did find out what that song MEANT. The only word that made any true sense was Hyades...but that's a star cluster. Many, many light years from the earth in the deep void of space.


And yet sometimes when you sleep in the day, shifting, shapeless dreams come to you. Distant indigo shores and violet skies. Almost peaceful. Your feet carry you past the gas station and onto Cadham Avenue, leading south to Main. There, too, is a quiet street. The main plaza just a few blocks away where the...event occured.


But for a brief moment you feel the presence, dimly, of other predator's taint. They're...close. Or, at least, they were. Familiar...well, one more so. Blake. But where? The street is amazingly well-lit, has been since the fire. The trees stand silent sentinel.


Wits + Composure, please.
 
To Ourobouros


Hmm. That Radioshack where the computers had been, empty and with a large red 'For Sale' sign. Curious. The burnt out building has new scaffolds surrounding it and a new face being built. Nothing wastes in this town...not much. The sky seems completely empty under the streetlights of Main. Only the moon lends its light to the world now.


And the sidewalks and shops aren't completely empty. It's roughly nine and the night is still young enough. People are walking here and there. But in groups no smaller than three. Absolutely no lone walkers can be seen. The toll of two months of terror. Hmm, east seems to be the way the taint leads you though.
 
The Ourobouros


The starless sky makes it uneasy. It makes a note of its emotional responses to new stimuli, the better to compare with those of humans and once-humans. In a vague but typical fit of arrogance, it tries to remember if their was any astrological or mystical significance to the date of its creation...


It heads East, following the Taint.
 
Garrison Blake


Blake looks around, making sure no one is around who could overhear them. When he speaks, his voice is low. "Well, I talked to someone better versed in these things. That person said our...friend...is mentioned as a god of fertility and war. In Carthage. Virility meant power. To prolong your line. He is related to Moloch. The person also said he's never encountered something of this type. Mentioned there's all sorts of bad things in Roanton. But I'm sure most here already suspected that. Here's the interesting part. There's a report Buffalo, New York is having nearly as bad a time as we are. I'm wondering if there's a connection. I'm putting feelers out. Seeing if I can talk to someone over there. Just thought you should know."
 
Valentine


Valentine nods. "Good news. I've been doing some research of my own. Seems Kyle Martin had ties to the Boston vamps. Screwed someone pretty high up over and disappears for a year and a half. I've got Jimmy running names to see if any of the Unaligned in the city from Boston are associates. If they are, I'm going to go and ask some very pointed questions."
 
To Valentine and Blake


"Tsk, tsk, boys. Sugar gets you more than steel vinegar. But boys wll be boys." Selene shrugs. "However, you shouldn't rely on Jimmy so much, the boy can't know it all. And you'll lose your temper when he finally hits a wall he can't climb over. I know how you are." She says, looking pointedly at Valentine.
 
Valentine


Valentine manages to look contrite. "I would never, I like Jimmy. He's sort of cuddly. For a Haunt. And besides, if even half the rumours about the Nosferatu information network are true, he's as good a lead as any. And he did find me the summoner from a first name and a description."
 
Annabelle


The class, though quiet, picks up a little towards the end, and Annabelle sits this one out, to close to a sweat for comfort. She directs her students, shows them tricky new moves, and revels in her teaching of them. It feels good to see them happy, and not thinking about the darkness outside. The starless sky still unnerved her, though she often caught herself staring blankly up into the aerial abyss, consumed by her own thoughts. When she kept busy she wasn't distracted by such things.
 
Garrison Blake


Garrison purses his lips. "This is all well and good. Information, no matter it's source, Ms. Selene, is critical right now. We have very little. A journey begins with the first step. The important thing is how do we stop it? Other than attack it physically. That will be a tall order. I imagine his physical gifts are on par with his...other abilities. Though, if it comes down to a ritual...my talents lie in other areas. As for now, we just keep looking. We can do nothing less."
 
To Ourobouros


Memories about that are muddled, much like when you awoke from the cracked and musky womb that the Canvasses left behind for you. But you do recall something from those post-natal minutes. The frozen faces of your progenitors within that wall of fetid flesh you emerged from. Each in a stage of either joy, terror, anger, horror, and all in between. Hmm, maybe there are records to be found of that night surely.
 
To Anna


It's only as class is winding down that you notice him. You never once saw when he came in, but Adulio is sitting and smiling by your office door, watching the kids go. He's remarkably well behaved. He comes in fed and never even tries to put the moves on any of the dancers. He loves dance. In fact, many of your nights together, he simply asks you to dance for him, slow, fast, any of it. You make him weep, and for that, he loves you.
 
The Ourobouros


Forgetting the matter for now, it moves on. Eyes flicking warily over shadows.


It refuses to get caught in the dark again - it has been pondering methods to defeating that issue.


It hopes this new shape is neither too appealing nor to vulnerable - but it cannot bring itself to assume a form strictly loathesome. Even the monstrous form of the earlier evening was finely honed to an alien elegance.
 
To Ourobouros


Blocks pass under foot and your legs carry you 'on the trail' as it were. It's somewhat like following the chain of death, so to speak. Only you've not yet killed anyone and the only corpses you follow are ambulatory and walking here in the night. You'll cross Pelham and finally catch sight of them, speaking on a corner there. You don't know the female, but she's looking toward you, the others stop in their hushed conversation to look your way...


To Valentine and Blake


Each of you feel your Beast stir in an instant.


Another... Selene's already watching him. Neither of you have seen this particular Kindred before...have you? Yet he feels...familiar. Blake knows that Beast well. They almost reach out on a metaphysical level, growling, but respectful.


The Childe of Eight has come.
 
Garrison Blake


"Ah. The Ourobouros." Blake waves at the strange Kindred. "This one's strange. I saw him - her - it - as a woman. A strange being. But an interesting one. And he's a Dragon. He may be able to assist us. If we need research. We can discuss that later."


When the Ourobouros approaches, Blake bows. "How are you this evening, Ouro?"
 
The Ourobouros


It bows back, respectful. "I am well, thank you Garrison. I apologise if I am interrupting anything..."
 
To Ourobouros


The woman, blone with odd little black streaks throughout her curls, smiles at you. Wearing deep red eyeliner that gives her a tired look, like she's been awake all day long. Not a wink of sleep, but the eyes tell of a furious intelligence lying just behind that smile.


"Not at all, I am Selene." She gives a small bow, her head whipping back.
 
Valentine


Valentine nods stiffly; the creature Ourobouros makes him nervous.


"Evening, Ourobouros."
 
The Ourobouros


"A pleasure to meet you, Selene. And good to see you too, Valentine." It smiles. It's genuine; it feels much safer for the company.
 
To Ourobouros


"So..." Selene murmurs, throwing a glance to Valentine, "What brings you out tonight, Ouro? May I call you that? Bored or what have you? I can understand that, I get...bored sometimes as well. It pays to walk around town, even if doom seems to hang over our heads like an axe." Heavens, she has a charming smile.
 
Ourobouros


"You are welcome to, less flattering epithets will follow us one day, I expect."


It considers for a moment.


"Bored. Yes. Being cooped up indoors with only study for company can begin to wear on any of us. I sometimes wonder if boredom kills more Kindred than anything else."
 
Gavin


He thinks for a moment about the barricade of furniture blocking every possible exit, the variety of sharp objects waiting underneath (and sometimes in) the barricades he had erected for anyone foolish enough to not be deterred. "...modestly well-protected. I've had no difficulties." Yet.
 
To Ourobouros


"It merely drives most mad." Selene says with a smile. "We like killing one another the old fashioned way."
 
To Gavin


Luckily, Fairbanks has been spared the madness thus far. Everything seems to bleed in from the north and stay in the northern parts of town. Of course, local kine attribute that to the poorer areas of the northern county and 'those people' around there. Glad to see things don't really change.


"I'm sure Gavin is just fine, Uncle." Victarion murmurs, walking into the kitchen with a newspaper folded under his arm.
 
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