A visitor on the doorstep [6/24/2013, Cathedral of Learning, 11pm, Pack SOL, OPEN]

Sebastian drifted across the grounds of the Cathedral, until coming to a stop before the great building. His robes drifted as he walked as if they were alive. He looked up at the face of the structure. Clearly in though, he stood there clutching a black bound book. 

After several minutes he looked around. Hoping that his presence had drawn the attention of the pack who made their claim to this place.

Razor's eyes scanned the area as they approached taking in the sites of the city. He had spent the past two nights learning the layout of Oakland. All cities were "urban jungles", but this one in particular held more allure to the urban predator than others. It was likely due to the architecture, but there were feelings in the air that he couldn't peg; a primal weight that made him feel as if he was stalking from shadows.

He cocked his head at the Father and asked, "What's on your mind, Padre?"

A white Audi pulled up to the small drop-off area, and Dr. Grey stepped out of the passenger side. He murmured something to the pale-skinned man driving, and slammed the door shut, as the car drove off into the night.

Dr. Grey strode up to his pack, waving gently. He took in a deep breath of the night air as he did, looking almost as if he were tasting it. As he made it withing speaking distance, He called out to the two.

"We should call the others to gather. I have an announcement to make."

Looking to Razor, the Priest smiled, but not with kindness as much amusement at the form of address. A cold draft blew past, despite the humid evening.

"I am interested in meeting with the pack that resides here. It is in poor taste that we affirm their Ductus's ill-conceived notions of Sabbat loyalty as we have. I would like to right it."

Sabastian turned to face the Ductus. He nodded as the Doctor spoke.

"I had intended to speak to the pack that won the hunt, but if we must meet, we must."

"The Father knows best," came his reply. "I think I at least showed how tough a single one of us can be.. took 5 of them to get me down, so our bollocks are still swinging proud,eh?"

He inclined his head the the Ductus and asked,"Lord Grey?"

*Ettiquite as needed

Frank sat wearing a different face than the previous nights, idly looking out a window of the Cathedral of Learnining. He sat pondering the state of city of Pittsburgh.

Dagon was an abrasive dick as usual, but also as usual there was solid wisdom beneath that vainer. Wisdom that lead to victory in the war party/wild hunt of a Camarilla infiltrator. Over the years Frank had learned to overlook the attitudes and focus on the actions of other cainites. Perhaps that was why he could overlook the machinations of 'lil mookie (or 'lil Poochie as Frank chose to think of him now based on his tendancy to bark like a small yappy dog with no action) more easily than his packmates.

The city was pretty fucked.
Recent betrayal of the city.
Two bishops not talking with each other. One of which was a paranoid survivalist so maybe thats all there is too it, but perhaps not.
A Priscus taking interest in the city.
One pack, named Crazy Donkey Punch for fucks sake, was already playing toady to the larger one. 30 Minutes in and they are already someone's bitch.
The larger pack seemingly ran by the priest with a figurehead ductus.
Both of those two packs deciding to jump us not hour after performing a valderie with us.
And a third pack that chose to sit out of a wild hunt. Were they guarding the Esbat site, cowards, or out for path reasons?

There was an awful lot to be wary of in the city of three rivers.

Not to mention the warning of staying out of downtown.

The only conclusion Frank came to was that he needed help. His pack needed a few more seasoned hands if they were gonna make a go of it in Pittsburgh. Frank needed to focus on helping strengthen the souls of his packmates, he had hoped settling down in a city for a bit would aid that mission. However, that seemed unlikely after the first few nights in town.

Glancing down Frank saw three members of SOL gathered below.

(*if anyone looks up and has sufficient eyesight to notice, there is a man in a window that will wink at you)

Meanwhile, back down on the ground, the thing calling itself Dagon lurked, cloaked by the blessings of Caine. Unseen, sprawled out on all four in an almost insectoid posture, its distended belly swaying close to the ground, it watched the visitors with only mild interest. Its eyes darted up toward the window, where he knew the Priest would be, and it grinned toothlessly, drooling ichor.

In truth, Dagon had been looking forward to this conversation - had, indeed, hoped it would come sooner - but the creature had no intention of making things easy for even the most honored of guests. No one who wouldn't think to look beyond street level for a Nosferatu should ever expect to find one.

The doctor turned to his priest, crossing his arms as he did so.

"We can meet later, then. It's of no immediate importance. I simply wanted to assign guardianship over the territories of the Diamond. We will meet with their pack first, and show them that we were simply playing a competitive game."


He then turned to regard Razor with a warm smile.


"It's good to see you well, Razor."


Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, inside the Cathedral. A dark figure, somewhat recognizable winking at him. He felt the vitae stir inside himself, as his eyes grew more focused. Once Dr. Grey recognized the man making the creepy gesture he raised a single hand, and gently motioned for him to join them.

Frank strolled down the stairs towards the courtyard taking his .45 off safety while whistling something resembling 'If I only had a brain' from the Wizard of Oz. He placed the handgun back in its holster satisfied of its readiness should he need it while hoping that this was to be a friendly meeting. He knew that Dagon was roaming around nearby as well.

"Lovely evening, wouldn't you say gentlemen?" he said to those SOL members gathered in front of him as he entered the courtyard.

***edit: spelling

Dagon slithered leisurely up behind Frank, drawing itself up into something close to a bipedal posture before letting the cloak of Obfuscate drip greasily away. It should come as a surprise to no one that a creature so prone to theatrics would prefer to make a startling entrance. If one were strong of stomach and possessed of a certain morbid aesthetic, it might be said that the Nosferatu smiled. Bowing low, flabby flesh oozing over a tightly curled arm, its soulless eyes sought out the visitors with a faint sparkle of genuine pleasure.

"Indeed," Dagon chuckled with a voice like feces clogging a drain. "A wonderful night for a stroll!" Now, the wide, toothless maw certainly smiled, and those round black eyes darted from one face to another and back again. "What leads the Sword's finest soldiers to call at this, the humblest of doorsteps?"

Saheim approached from behind the rest of SOL ready to meet with his pack. When he noticed the Nosferatu he stopped to wonder whether or not that this was the elusive Bishop Hunter.

Nathan pulled up, parking in the front parking lot of the Cathedral and pretty flippantly walking up to meet with his pack, he hadn't really been expecting visitors to be around as well so when he finally approached the group he did so with a questioning look.

"We havin a party?"

Sebastian took a position beside his Ductus.

"I don't know if I would call it a party." Said the priest extending his arms and looking around.

Inclining his head to the gathered pack and lowering the gesture he said, "My intention in coming here this evening was to build a report. It strikes me that perhaps we enforced your earlier distrust of us with our overly-competitive attitude during the wild hunt. The primary blame I take full responsibility for."

The priest bowed his head in respect, but the ritual motions he followed showed no small amount of pretentious.

Pausing only briefly, the Nosferatu chuckles wetly and extends a blood-smeared hand - more of a flipper, the fingers bound together in taut webbing.

"My friend," the creature croaks, still smiling that moist, toothless smile. "I doubt it even rests within your power to offend me. Now, I only speak for my pack on official matters, but I personally accept your gracious apology..."

Regardless of whether the offered hand is shaken, Dagon will shove its slimy mitts into its pockets and rock back a little, glancing around at the gathering crowd.

"You know, though... If you ever want to catch me outnumbered out in the open, all you have to do is tell me where to be and when."

Frank rolls his eyes at the posturing between the priest and ductus of opposing packs.
"Words are wind my brothers. Let us show our shared devotion to the sword by our actions moving forward."

He let the wind carry him over the city, allowing it to take control of him.  Not without notice, though, as it pushed him further and further towards the Cathedral...

A God forsaken place as far as he was concerned...

He climbed higher, much higher than even the apex of the monolith, against what he felt was the will of the building itself.  Too much death, too many losses were suffered there.  A demon of stone and glass, manipulating those within and around it at its whim.  He knew better than to ever find himself down upon those blocks of cement in the tower's shadow, he knew what it would do to him...

As his mind drove itself to more horrific times, he caught himself...

"You're already too close, don't let it know what you're thinking..."

He pulled his focus back to what he was looking upon and bore holes through the covering mist with his heightened perception.  There they were, it never took too long for new bodies to come and do the dance of ones that went before...  How many?  6, maybe 7?  Tiny specs standing around with their puffed chests and presented feathers...  But there they were, oblivious to the perils around them, all thinking they were the controllers of their own destinies...  

There, over by Bigelow, a couple of them emerged from a vehicle and started making their way up to the others...  He was too far away to discern who they were, but rather just THAT they were...  This was already too much, the Beast of Oakland drawing those of his kind closer and closer...  Some would live, some would die, all would change...

Almost instinctively he started floating down to get a closer look, but as the Cathedral rose closer to him, he regained control over his curiosity...

"Not tonight...  They aren't ready to hear what I have to say..."

He peeled himself off of his path and headed back to the mountain.  Better the demons in his head than the ones who want to get in...

The recognizable silhouette of Shark slowly appears in the dispersing fog. He's accompanied by a generic form. It looks like a person wearing a hoody or a cloak, depending on your time frame of reference. A slightly Irish accent calls out, "Father Dagon, I've got someone else you can work your charm on."

Emerging from the mist Shark takes stock of the assembled. "Damn Balthazar, you're lucky, you got two birds for one stone. "

"Excellent, that will make things go much smoother..."

As the figure steps out of the mist, it becomes more obvious that his is attired in a simple black woolen robe, covering him head to to, and trailing on the ground behind him. His hands remain crossed in front of him as he walks, obscured in the volume of sleeve, the Hood is pulled down, obscuring all but his chin, which appears covered in some kind of dark scale....

His head tilts far to the right, as though listening to the something in the distance....a soft gravely whisper, "The blood knows....."

Twisting quickly about to look towards Shark, and then to take in the form of Dagon, his hood settles about him once again.

"I am Balthazar, a traveler, and Priest. I am looking to pay my respects for your efforts, and I am searching for Davias...blood of my blood."

The hood tilts down as Balthazar peers back towards the mist..a whispered note of gratitude to the unseen...

*Davias sits up suddenly, a strange urge pulling at him to go somewhere. Taking a moment to make sure what he felt was real he looks at Murphy.* Murphey i need you to keep an eye on Kit for a while...there's something i need to do. *Without waiting for a reply from his priest he stand up and makes for the entrence to the haven. Once outside he shifts once again into his Gyr falcon form and takes flight, heading across the river towards what Murphy informed him earlier was SoL territory.*

Nathan took a few steps back taking in the area getting a good look at the assembled. This was good, people seemed to be getting along though who knew he'd see so many people in robes in such a short time span.

"Yo Shark, did you see anyone else headed this way on your way up? Curious if our parties gona get any larger."

(Edit: To make more sense)

Shark gives an incredulous look to Nathan. “Yo? I’m damn sure you weren’t turned in the 70’s. You join a gang?” Smiling he walks over and slaps Nathan on the shoulder. “I always knew you’d end up on the wrong side of the law. Good job.” Laughing a bit he continues, “Nah I didn’t see anyone except maybe some strange mist. Course all cars look the same and the powers of Caine make deceptive little shits like me.”

"Of course, of course!" Nathan smiled "Its this pretty fuckin amazing gang man they call it get this, The Sabbat." He said his voice just thick with sarcasm. "Yeah but those are the best kind of deceptive little shits and who knows maybe we'll see some new faces? I mean we did come here to get the band together and kick some ass right? Ass beatings are always way more fun with a posse. That is the right word right?"

He paused for a moment...  unknowing to the success or failure of his power of will...

Upon the mountain he took to his knees, asking for forgiveness for his sins, knowing somewhere deep in his being that it was useless...  What had happened?  Why had the world, the faith he had known taken such a hard left?  It was almost as if there was a test being demanded of him, a test that warranted his total focus...

But he knew, somewhere deep down in his soul, that this was it, what it had come to...  He knew that the faith could not be saved, could not be salvaged...  He wondered what Alfred would think of the world that had shone its face...  Not the Alfred who lorded passively over Montreal now, but the Reverend he knew so many years ago.  Fire, Brimstone, and the well placed hate for the one who had betrayed his home...  That man was gone now, and all that remained was an empty husk speaking words with no meaning...

He stood back up, realizing that he was slowly slipping into the same routine...  NO!  He wouldn't stand for it...  If the sect was going to hell, HE would be the one to save it.  There would be no one else, no one he could rely on to take the reigns, and that was the truth, nay, the fear those he respected spoke of...  If the sect was so eager to get to hell, well, he'd happily get it there...  Through whatever means possible...

No...  It CAN be saved...  It CAN be redeemed...  It CAN BE RECONCILED!  It WILL NOT fall to the same fate that so many met with before.  

His mind wandered, he looked upon the faces of his greatest allies...  Ones he left to die, if only remnants of their former selves preying upon his conscience mind...  He gazed down upon the city, seeing the girth of its frame, as the towers rose like claws out of the earth, trying to escape...  Metal claws, and the sickness that gripped the city so tightly...  His mind rested upon the one so eager to chase the dragon, and as he did, the form manifested next to him...  Upon his face, a hunger, unquenched by any feeding, but somehow a sense of brotherhood long forgotten.  The face he looked upon was twisted now, and almost unfamiliar, but recognizable enough to show disappointment.  He knew of his failure, and it led to the death of a loyal Sabbat...

NO!

No longer would he allow these demons to stunt his growth...  He had a purpose now, and it was clear...  Ferry those across, as efficiently as he could, even if the task was unwanted.  But to do so, he needed allies, and he knew EXACTLY where to start...

He reached out with his consciousness knowing who it was he needed to speak to, and he prayed his will was the stronger... He already tried to reach the younger, now for the elder...

If only Balthazar would hear him.

*Davias feels another tug this time coming from munt washington. Spiraling around he changes direction and heads to the now stronger pull. Calling on his blood as he draws closer the gloom of the night fades and he can see a familiar form standing alone in the darkness. After a few spirals Davias flys down landing on the form's shoulder digging in talons to secure his grip and waits patiently for the reason he was summoned*

Off to the side, Shark continued talking to Nathan. "Who bled in your cheerios? You're damn near chipper. I didn't realize you were that excited to settle down."

(*EDITED: Nothing that requires a chop to be thrown can be posted on the boards without prior approval of the opponent of the chop agreeing to relent to the challenge... This includes an army of homeless people successfully observing a bird, at night, hundreds of feet in the air...
Thank you, -Admin-*)