Aftermath... So, I diddn't see any of the sabbat poses but I thought I'd leave 'em in for humor value.


Absently Chase hands over the kicker, still some red fluid to inject. "Hit that. Main line it, cabrone. We'll get... we'll get... the rest a you lot over..." Starting to get woozy, eyes close. His other nostril starts bleeding.

Wether its the sound of his name, or that scent in the air.. Dave scampers back and forth on the Dr's lap. The monkey takes the shot and injects the willing Dr, then suckles at the wound briefly. Its electrifying, the Monkey falling back onto the floor with a thump where he starts convulsing and shaking with the grin of one who is terrifyingly euphoric.

More twitching. A smirk shows Chase's coffee stained teeth even as his bloodshot eyes are closed to remain together. Something else is grabbed automatically within arm's reach, as if greedy fingers knew just where it was. A yellow pill for plain lips. "Sub... Subspactial ward. Walls." It's popped back to fend for it's self in with the gum. And duly, Chase nudges you to take more. "Crunch up, Doc. 'S final.... final piece."

Pobble kicks back, twitching and nudging the monkey with his foot. Dave doesn't seem to care, lost in some unholy caress. The empty shot is placed on a nearby surface and the last drag of the cigarette is taken down. "So. He have any chums left in the trads?"

Pobble says "P - Reaching into the ashtray, Pobble possibly continues to stare at Chase waiting for a response while thumbing out some Ash. Mixing this with the blood seeping from his palm he grabs a nearby book and trails the thin ooze over the cover in a twisting pattern. It's not terribly viscous so this takes a while, but Chase is otherwise occupied so.. Once the pictogram is complete its not even really recognizable, just a smear. Still. The chemicals in his head elevate the illusion somewhat and he mouths a single word in a language Chase doesn't understand. "Walls." says the Dr, in Enochian.

A - Mind 1. Shield.
T - The image and the word, reverberate inside the psyche of the Dr, dragging along the psychotropic drug effects and twisting them into upperplane clouds across the subconscious. Blocking the mind from outside influences as a thunderstorm blocks the sun. Not terribly accurate or stylish, but perhaps worth the effort."

//.etro: Pobble rolls "arete" at diff 3
For a total of 1 success(es).
//.etro: Pobble rolls "arete" at diff 3
For a total of 3 success(es) including 1 ten(s).
//.etro: Pobble rolls "arete" at diff 3
For a total of 2 success(es) including 1 ten(s).

Dr Steve leans forward and inexplicably licks the markings off the book before settling back once more with a somewhat perplexed smile and once more nuding the monkey with his foot.

Chase is still in the zone, eyes closed tight like they were keeping out bright sunlight. *Pop* Chewing in the same robotic pace. "Yeahhh. Right. Just under there." That didn't answer the Doc's question very well, but it's all he could muster at the moment.


P - Chase stands languidly, pushing himself up with lazy effort. His red eyes finally opens and he takes this moment to adjust his nuts. A look about the room, he's nodding something to himself. A canister is grabbed from the chem tins, looks akin to a smoke grenade. It's walked to the center of the room and the pin is pulled whilst Chase scratches his scalp. The faint smell of oranges start to permeate the air as a colorless gas leaks out.

Cor 4 (remove room from the spacial continuum for a duration.)

T - The gas is a conduit for the Cor foci Chase has already ingested, it's gonna draw his avatar out into the air, and dislocate this room from the rest of the world, creating their own special pocket of reality."


From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim comes in from the street beyond.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim has arrived.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon comes in from the street beyond.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon has arrived.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Karl comes in from the street beyond.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Karl has arrived.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Dean comes in from the street beyond.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Dean has arrived.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Vulture comes in from the street beyond.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Vulture has arrived.

Chase says "Heh."

From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah comes in from the street beyond.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah has arrived.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim slips into the shadows, obsuring himself from others sight and mind.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Takes a few steps into the shadows, and doesnt seem to step back out...
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, You all manage to arrive inside the derelict home rather easily. It seems someone has left the door unlocked. It doesn't look like anyone's at home just now.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, It all seems too easy, doesn't it? Vulture voices his opinion as he pulls a pair of knives from within the long folds of his hakama. They're a pair of wicked looking devices, "Feels like a trap." The Birdman mutters under his breath as he follows the group.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Dean is unseen for all intents and purposes, not here, nah uh.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim has arrived.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, There is a rustle, and the sound of footsteps as Micah steps out from the shadows...
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah has arrived.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Karl has left.

From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah says simply "We don't need to talk do we? I mean, to communicate, we can talk with our hands right?"
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Keeping his voice low Dar glances over the party, looking over to Micah once and nodding, "These Mages. They use spells and such?" He makes a motion to his lips as if thinking about them speaking these 'spells'.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Dean has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah nods
From Derelict Home - Main Room, "They fuck shit up." Vulture hisses low, flooding blood into his veins to strengthen his limbs and his skin. Both knives are held easily at his sides, "Can bring fire'n sunlight without even wavin' a wand." Wow, how does he know all this cool stuff.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon slips quietly and discretly into the building from the second story, descending from the roof into the building with a practiced ease. The room is pitch black and dark (I'm assuming. No one is setting the scene here) but his small glowing eyes reveal everything behind his sunglasses, and he moves to press himself flag against the wall. (I'm assuming ALOT here)
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim looks to Micah, nods, and the idea passes clearly between the two clan mates. Quiet will be the word of the day.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim slips into the shadows, obsuring himself from others sight and mind.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Takes a few steps into the shadows, and doesnt seem to step back out...
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Dichotic eyes slip back and forth as Vulture watches his comrades disappear. Yup, he's left in plain sight. Gripping the handles of the knives tighter, he lets out a whispered sound of exasperation, "Fuuuuuuuuuck."
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon slides along the wall to the edge of the door frame. He waits there for a while, listening carefully. Not having to breathe comes in handy in these sort of situations, to pick out those who do. Not hearing anything (I'm assuming again), He slowly pokes his head around, and takes stock of the very empty hallway. Its very empty alright. He slides into the hallway, crouching low along the ground and slowly stalks to the next room, every muscle twitched. His strnage furry ears twitch a bit when he hears some cussing from down below, and he takes note of it. God damn scrub.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Into his own form of stealth mode, the Birdman crouches low to the floor of the room. His eyes scan the corners and he swallows, perhaps for the last time, before he holds his breath - no point in doing anything in the slightest... well... besides what he's done... to make noise. Arms cocked, knives pointing out the bottom of his grip, he advances towards the stairwell. Nice and slow. Of course, he doesn't know where anyone else is, which gives his movements a lack of definition. Almost seeming nervous.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon slowly rights himself, and moves over to the next closed door in the hallway, pressing up flat against the wall yet again. His powers of deception aren't as advanced some, but if remains still enough he becomes practicly invisible. He uses this to his advantage as he listens to any sounds from beyond the next door. Nothing (Assumption!). He waits even longer, and then ever so slowly taps the door open. It makes a slow creeking sound as it opens, and reveals more nothing.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, At the creak that whispers down from upstairs, the Toreador shifts his position. He doesn't have animal ears, but damn is his hearing sharp. For a moment he just looks up at the ceiling - then remembers where Simon went. Centering himself he looks down the stairs and then lets out his breath nice and slow. With one tenative step he puts his foot on the first stair - preparing to descend into what could be the gates of hell for all he knows. Wicked blades held at the ready.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon suddenly appears creeping down the stairwell, quiet as a mouse, but highly visable to anyone who can see. Well, if you can see in the dark. He holds up a hand to Vulture, and motions to him that the upstairs is clear. Sabbat hand signals are alot like the ones the Navy Seals use, just alot cooler. His eyes scan the room, and then he signs, "Clear?"
From Derelict Home - Main Room, One good hand signal; Vulture pops two big thumbs up after he manages to avoid shitting his pants at Simon's appearance. Of course, he's not quite able to have a bowel movement... but the look in his eyes says 'Simon, you utter BASTARD!'. Then he points with both index fingers down the stairs and gives a shrug of his shoulders - Should I go down? Seems to be his question.

Back to the comfort of the leather chair. Chase returns, more goodies. He's going scar-face tonight, eh? Another handful of capsules are procured from a tin on the lab table and they get crunched right after the punk spits his green gum out. He's need his jaw muscles for a few minutes. Crunch, munch, bunch, a yellowy foam builds at the side of his lips. Eyes roll back, he wipes his lips.

After a moment or two of steady delirium, "Oi. Cheeky, rude little faggots. Got a few foxes 'n the hen house... Dead ones."

From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon motions for the big brute to hold. He then does the feasibly insane, and slowly creeps down to the door to the basement and repeats the same proceedure as up above. He attempts to take notice of any tripwires and what not, but you can never prepare enough for this sort of thing. When he arrives at the bottom of the stairs, he pauses and holds completely still. If you weren't stairing at him before, you don't see him now. And he listens.

Pobble sits up, ears almost twitching. "Crapweasels." he murmers hazily. Again the foot to the Monkey. "Oi. Dave. Maybe you should pop sideways and tell the other cunts to get the hell out of Dodge. But away from here." He smirks, sitting up and wobbling a little, tapping his silver fingernails together with a metallic 'thwink'.

Shifting of the surfaces could indicate that Dr Steve is looking about, for something maybe.

From Derelict Home - Main Room, Vulture wanted to be the first one to go down! The huffy look he gets on his face says so. Resigned to being the less cool of the pair that are visible, the Birdman begins his descent behind his Packmate, blades held at the ready; set to rend flesh with his sharp, metal, instruments. Not surgeon's steel... but he's going to do some damage if he manages to hit someone. Each step is calculated as he places it on each stair. Slowly slipping down behind Simon without a peep.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon doesn't hear anything (Assumption). He then holds up 3 fingers in the air, initating a simple countdown. He then slowly grabs ahold of the door nob, and looks up the stairwell at Vulture. The last thing he does before he starts the countdown is wink, fangs and red eyes gleaming. Yeeeeehaw!

"Got some Windex and Lysol mate?" says Dr Steve after a second.

"Mmmmmm." Chase starts to look around as his eyes open again. "Yeah. Prolly. Somewhere... mebbe I should just give all a mental nudge, eh Dave don't gotta worry his furry lil' ass over this..."

From Derelict Home - Main Room, Taking note of the three count, Vulture almost seems to vibrate with excitement. Women all over the world would... uh... nevermind. Flowing his vitae into his nerve centres he prepares to move quick as a whip. Blades held at the ready. Its GO time.

Part 3. Wouldn't let me do it as one.


From Derelict Home - Main Room, There is a rustle, and the sound of footsteps as Micah steps out from the shadows...
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah has arrived.

Chase turns his head before a response is forthcoming. "Oi. The bunker. There's a spirit in there, eh? That's how they found this pad. Doc Steve." The punk gains a moment of froathy clearity. "Yer good with them spirit types, right?"

Pobble moves to his feet, ignorant of the new arrivals and mozies over to the kitchen area. Fumbling about underneath he grabs a bucket, places it upright next to the cupboard. "Not a clue mate, That'd be Penny.." Looking into the cupboard he queries, "Think we can drop off a present?"

From Derelict Home - Main Room, Eventually, Karl appears, coming in from back outside. "Somehow, they've... escaped. Or hidden themselves. We may as well go home."
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah shrugs "Course we could always burn this sucker down...that way the night wasn't a total waste"

Chase makes a face, and turns to the bunker door again, fingering his cleft chin. "What ta do, eh?"

From Derelict Home - Main Room, A sillouetted outline appears at first. Fuzzy, indistinct, as if your mind is attempting to wrap itself around the existance of whatever it is. The cobwebs of the Obfuscate are shaken from the mind as Darjims hold on the blood is released, giving him shape and form.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim has arrived.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Slightly behind and beside Karl comes a gigantic swirling mass of obtenebration, the head is translucent so determining who it is might be more then alittle difficult, arms of blackness writhing and twitching like snakes as they remain at his, it's, sides. One could safely assume the shadow monster is Dean.

Pobble waggles his fingernails. "Nitro G." he says, and begins to pour random household products into the bucket.

From Derelict Home - Main Room, "I don't think they'd notice, honestly," Karl notes, with a shrug. "I have my ideas. We may just tell their friends a few more things about them, and what they did tonight, and see if that gets them dealt with. But me, I'm going home."
From Derelict Home - Main Room, A frown flows over the lips of the Birdman, "What... you mean, they aren't downstairs at all?" His hands twirl the blades he's carrying around a couple of times. His eyes slip from Karl, to shadowy Dean, back to Karl again, "So... like... this whole thing was for nothing?" Yup, that's disappointment, folks. Another twirl, and he slides the blades into hidden sheathes on his legs.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah puts his Kukri back in his pants, and says "Well, fuck it, I aint all for messing with things I don't understand anyway." He looks around to his packmates "Whatdaya say we go chase one of those rickshaw thingies down and do something wrong with it?"
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim glances around the room carefully after coming out of the shadows, his own blade getting replaced in it's sheath around his back. He says nothing, his eyes scanning the room slowly before they fall on the exit. It would appear that it is time to leave then.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon is right by the door to the basement, counting down 3 fingers. Appearantly the kids were still in the process of clearing the building. He frowns, and stands upright. He removes his hand from the knob, and moves up the stairs with a sulk. His claws remain extended, and he glances over at Vultrue. "Pup, what are you doing? Someone is going to die tonight for all this trouble. I don't care who anymore." His voice is more on a growl, and with that he stalks out the door. You get the sense he's going to kill the first 3 people he sees. Its been that sort of night, and conversation isn't going to sate this bloodlust.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, "They moved, somehow. They were there, and then they were not there." That is all Karl has to say. "And they're probably beyond our reach now. I'm simply going home. I'll deal with the later." That said, he simply starts on his way out.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim shrugs and as well moves out of the house.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim leaves the house.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Darjim has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah just shakes his head "Im going to get a fucking cup of coffee...and throw it at someone..."
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah leaves the house.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Micah has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, "Pup?" Vulture mutters indignantly as Simon stalks away. With a frown on his lips he gives the Gangrel a nickname, too, "Cock!" Then he lets out a snarl, and notes his whole pack is buggering off, and heads out after them with a brisk movements, "Guys... hang on... I got an idea..." Oh yeah, like the punk has anything worthwhile in his head.

You say, "Its the perfect gift." He stops, looking into the bucket and pondering. This doesn't last as Windex and Lyson have a somewhat overpowering smell, causing him to step back. Wobbly. Looking over to see Dave still lying on the floor, Dr Steve sighs. "You useless fuck.""

From Derelict Home - Main Room, Vulture leaves the house.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Vulture has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon leaves the house.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Simon has left.

Chase says, "Airy thingy... just whispin' about in the bunker still. Mebbe we should give P-Diddy a call, eh? 'Fore we come out. Get her to banish this lil' bugger."

From Derelict Home - Main Room, Karl leaves the house.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Karl has left.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Dean leaves the house.
From Derelict Home - Main Room, Dean has left.

Pobble is still recoiling from the noxious clean smell of the bucket, and just manages to lift it up and pour the contents down the sink. No one seems overly impressed with his drug addled plan and it sucks the motivation out of him. He stands there, bucket upturned and wobbling for a few moments. "Go 'head" he mumbles, dropping the bucket noisily and lighting up a new smoke.

P - Well, since Chase is the lead in this particular dance, he'll be concocting a special
brew of new fun chemi-yummies for Pobs to taste. There's gonna kick back, turn on the TV,
smoke sblue colored powder and think about shit -real- hard.

A - Cor 2/Prime 2 (Plasma Death)

T - Chase is opening Pobs up to a new path of Avatar relations, one not steeped in his
particular hermetic style. It's a self attunement that's rather baseless, but seems to tap
into the core just the same. Only nonspecific methods, none charted by previous magi.
Still chemical foci, as Pobs uses, just going about it's business in roads. Chase will
take Pob's avatar energy with him via the Cor foci, showing him distance and spacial
relatives. Then, the prime kicker will activate, and we'll send over plasma bolts into his
fuckin' brain."


Cassius says "17 total... hmm, minus the four... carry the 87... comes out to
about... 26 health levels."

Pobble sits back, chews and repeatedly drags on an unlit cigarette. The repetition seems
to calm him and he stares off into the distance, with an expression that seems to be
slowly melting. The monkey on his lap looks up at him with sad blue eyes, holding onto one
of his hands and gently poking at the holes in his hands, as if trying to remind the
missing Deity of where to go to unleash its holy wrath on the crossfucking nonbeliever.


This is the zone Chase was telling you about. Static hissing in the background,
meth-sulfate mix hitting your spine. The thick man's in his plush chair in much the same
spell Pobs is. Some sweat beading upon his shaved scalp and gum chewing to some internal
clockwise beat. Every five point seven seconds, he remembers to breath and blink all at
once. Veins straining on his horse neck,he finally blows a bubble. *POP*

"You feel, it eh. Como que no. Dios."
A single bead of sweat drips from Pobble's nose onto the monkey who scratches at his head
and goes to say something but thinks the better of it. Something in the air causes its fur
to bristle just a touch and an expectant grin begins to form on its lips. The smell of
paradox on the wind, the smell of the mother of all highs.

"Indubidably." murmers the good Doctor, silver fingernails glinting as he continues the
motion with precise timing. Sucking the cigarette, sucking the essence of Yahwe back to
his oh so hollow skull and a non lonely place. Angsty longing for the missing godhead
causes a twitch on his lip between drags, but it vanishes, succumbing to a merry sigh and
a moment with closed eyes.


Twitches start, like a cink in the system, one of Chase's lazy eyes squints up and
releases. "Yeah. Fuckin' yeah." Chin up when he looks to the skies, obscured by layers of
earth, concrete and mortar. "I just keep chewing." To nothing in particular as callused
hands shake up a glass vile containing reddish liquid. He inserts it into an air injection
unit and raises it behind his ear. "Grounded kicker. It's the universe's spike, cabrone."
The unit bites his skin with a hiss.



"Dave gotta stay with me next week....p... pu.... puto." Chase let's out a whisper.


A lighter is drawn from somewhere, its chrome muddied with blood from Steve's hand. He has
'em and he'll smoke em. Eyes that would be bloodshot if they weren't purest white flutter
and the man lets out a sigh as he exhales that first sweet drag. "I'm not heading anyplace
anytime soon fucker. Not safe outside by my reakoning."


Absently Chase hands over the kicker, still some red fluid to inject. "Hit that. Main line
it, cabrone. We'll get... we'll get... the rest a you lot over..." Starting to get woozy,
eyes close. His other nostril starts bleeding.

Wether its the sound of his name, or that scent in the air.. Dave scampers back and forth
on the Dr's lap. The monkey takes the shot and injects the willing Dr, then suckles at the
wound briefly. Its electrifying, the Monkey falling back onto the floor with a thump where
he starts convulsing and shaking with the grin of one who is terrifyingly euphoric.