++
I was a trembling, because I�d got to decide, forever,
betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute,
sort of holding my breath, and then said to myself:
�All right, then, I�ll go to hell [.]�
-Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
There wasn't much to hold him to any one place in the world. Home had been swept away long ago and no matter where he traveled nothing could reach in to take the place of the rusty old porch swing and white picket fence. He had been desperate to get away from the little town of Rock Falls when he was young and mortal. Older, and Kindred he just looked for some place that would satisfy the yearning for familiarity once more.
Scout slammed the door to his car with his frustration. Ara looked over the hood at him for a moment, but he wasn�t really acting out of the ordinary. He was Brujah so she was probably expecting some overly macho gesture. Sabbat and Brujah, both so misunderstood. He snorted, the old clan stereotypes were laughable and still used in petty descriptions far too often. It was enough to give an innocent bystander, like himself, a bad reputation.
Being villified was the least of his problems, however. He had made the choice to become Kindred and though he had not know what all of the categories placed over it meant at the time he could blame no one but himself. He was hunted for being Kindred, hunted for being Sabbat, hunted for being anti-tribu. The unwaivering faith that he was doing something right stemmed from the knowledge that so many wanted to see his �kind� dead.
While 'they' wasted energy hunting for him, and the others like him, he was doing the will of his sect, and the work of his own family. They were nothing like the Kine grouping he had been born into, but they were closer and there were no secrets in the pack for very long. He watched out for them in a way that could never have been allowed in Rock Falls. In return they accepted him for who he was in a way that went beyond whatever labels had been slapped onto him. It was what he loved most about the night life, and as he followed the others back into the abandoned church he grinned at Josse, and slapped the kid on the back lightly. "Good to be back, eh?"
They had work to do, and it was for each other.
+++
"I'm not going to do Nothing any more."
"Never again?"
"Well, not so much. They don't let you."
-Christopher Robin (A.A. Milne)
She hated to be interrupted for anything, the break in the thought process was more than annoying and trying to gather scattered thoughts a useless tasks most nights. Ara traced the herbs across the alter one last time, finishing the pattern and completing the calling spell. It wasn�t much since she had no magic of her own, save her nature as Kindred. It was an old habit from youth; a holdover from a time that she could do something serious with a handful of herbs and badly rhymed phrases.
She sighed, brushing the pattern apart with three fingers. Almost instantly Josse was at her side, looking for attention in his own puppy way. �Can I do something for you Joxer?�
He shook his head, �Nah, just was wondering if ya wanted to go out for a bit. Take a walk through the cemetery, or maybe go trolling for some of those girls you and Ashley talk about...the vac...�
�Vacuous co-eds?� She grinned, �That might be fun. Just the two of us, okay? I don�t think I could stand another moment of that thing Scout is doing.� She vestured sharply towards the corner of the vestibule, where the young Brujah was gyrating.
�Okay. I�ll be good, I won�t annoy you. Promise.� He smiled, a touch of uncertainty in his eyes. She hated seeing that in him, the self doubt that welled up whenever he was reminded, however small the connection, that people were sometimes bothered by the actions of their friends. It was directed at him a lot when he was younger. Yet he still trailed behind them, loyal as a kicked puppy and just as innocent.
She had seen him fresh from a hunt, in the middle of fights, even in rather compromising situations with Kine and Kindred alike. He was still an innocent, and she knew because it was something she had never been. �You never annoy me Joxer. You and I are like brother and sister, ya know? No matter what happens I�ll always be around to look after you. Come on, let�s get over to the campus."
They walked out of the church holding hands, separating only so that Ara could throw a rock at one of the crows that was crowding them in the yard. "Damn birds forget their place."
+++
"Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive- it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we knew all about everything would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?"
excerpt from Anne of Green Gables
As Scout continued to gyrate in the corner with his headphones now securely in place, and Joxer crept out the back door with Ara, Peregryne closed her book with a sf=oft thud and escaped deeper into the church. She passed the closet-like room Ashley used as a studio, and walked through the old coffee room where Daphyd lay on the floor, towards her own sanctuary of the religious library.
The books here were old and musty, and as for the topic...well, there were not books that she would be trying to read anytime soon. They just made her feel comfortable sitting on the shelves. Nothing was as horrible as an empty bookcase.
She sat at the base of an old heating unit and reopened her book. When she was little her mother would tell stories by the fireplace and her father would read books to her by candle light. She didn't have to worry about straining her eyes to do the same. The electricity was not working in the old building and would give them away far more than their rambling through the yard. It was time to move soon anyway. Ashley had already found a new place; a little cleaning, some furniture, getting rid of the current occupants and all would be in order for the move.
Pere grinned as she started reading again. Joxer had found the book for her, remembering her interest though not the subject, in that sweet way he had with her. She could read almost anything though and this old science fiction novel by Robert Howard was plenty better than the weekly romance novels.
She settled in quickly, becoming entranced in the story before any of the others could again interrupt.
+++
'Moon dribbling honey upon lips of lunatics
Orchards and country town tonight grow greedy
Stars resemble bees
Of a luminous liquid that drips from trellises
Each honey beam oozes from heaven
Taking its own sweet time.'
excerpt from "Claire de Lune" by Guillaume Apollinaire
He stroked his canvas softly, letting the bristles of the red brush detail shadow and give character to what might lie within that darkness. Each moment, each tender touch of hair and shuff-shoop sound controlled and exact. Ashley stepped back for a moment, letting the light of the moon pass his figure and hit the new painting. It was his moment in time and he loved the image briefly.
Soon it would be time to start the next picture, something to continue his latest theme and excise more of the past. Joxer was lucky because he did not remember most of his past, Ashley envied him that innocence. Ignorance was something he desired every night and his paint brushes drove each memory from him, but too slowly. They drew forth the images of his days and placed them in view for the world to see and for him to destroy when the moment was right. The right moment had not come yet for any of his creations though he knew that time grew short for some of the paintings in the city museums. Scout would assist in his rousing manner of destruction and chaos, and the others would join in with the whooping and gyrating soon after. He grinned and chewed idly on the wooden end of the brush. It would be art.
Painting finished and arms weary he turned and left the dingy little room, closing the door with a soft thump. It was nearing dawn and there was just enough time to catch one of the early risers in the city, enjoying their morning jog.
+++
'I want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to withdraw from the tumult of centuries,
I want to sleep the dream of that child,
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas.'
-excerpt from "Gacela of the Dark Death" Federico Garcia Lorca
He pondered, as it was his place to do so for the pack, their current position. Gothik was a city with much possibility for the Sabbat if they got together and made a real effort. Unfortunately it was the stupid who usually made the first steps and screwed up the well-informed plans of the more experienced. Such as those neonates who had been slaughtered a year ago had done. Daphyd paused in his nightly pacing and snorted softly. They were certainly not the type he wanted in his pack; each of the five he led had proven themselves worthy in some manner and they were joined by blood, blessed by Caine as Ara might say.
There were things going on in the city, movements the Sabbat had not predicted. It was both dangerous for them to be in the region and yet the perfect opportunity to strike and gain something from the uncertainty of the Camarilla led fools. If he had been hearing the whispers of the street correctly, the Anarchs did love to chat, the Prince was some kind of nutcase and the Primogen hadn't been speaking. Some said that a few of the high ranking Kindred may have disappeared for good. After looking through the local newspaper it seemed that a good number of mortals were migrating as well; it was a wonderful time to buy real estate, especially if you wanted a real fixer-upper as they used to say.
It was duty that had brought them to this city, cold and wet and so different from their home in California. It was oath that kept them here, kept them hidden until the time was right to move and shake things up a bit. Others would join them, some already coming forward from within the city. It would loyalty and their honor as Sabbat that would keep them together and strong when their time came. Daphyd didn't look forward to that, he simply knew that it would happen and that it would be glorious.