5.00 pm Thursday, 12 December 13 hours until sunrise, Succubus Club Wetherill Park
Stallion was the first of the coterie to arise the next evening. It was finally the Succubus Club and Stallion had to pick up his suit from Tailor’s shop, but first, he called his bat. It didn’t take long for Stallion to hear the creaking of the bat’s calls and the flap of leathering wings echoing through the warehouse.
“Come with me tonight. We’re going out,” He said in the language they both shared.
“Okay, “The bat said and climbed onto Stallion’s back where he could feel it tickle his neck.
“Hey, stop that,” Stallion waved away the bat’s biting, “At least not where people can see, okay.”
With everything else waiting for him in Leichhardt, Stallion didn’t waste any more time. Mounting his motorbike, he sped out into the night, a bat digging its teeth into his neck.
5.00 pm Thursday, 12 December 13 hours until sunrise, Succubus Club Pyrmont
Eclipse was awoken to the sound of things thudding to the ground, frustrated stomping and quiet cursing. Sighing, she rose from her bed, padded barefoot down the carpeted hall and towards the source of the sounds, my bedroom. There she found me in my undervest and boxers, Lupara strapped to my back and the remains of a hurricane in my wardrobe left on every flat surface. Everything I owned, every stitch, shoe or belt not already on my person lay strewn across the master bedroom.
I’d awoken to the imperative to get ready for the most important event of my young vampire life. I was ready. Had been ready for months. The suit was one of the few things I’d salvaged from the house at Pyrmont. I’d even had Taylor restyle it to fit Lupara. The suit was perfect. I opened my wardrobe and unzipped the suitbag it had been carefully stored in, running my finger along the rich peacock feather embroidery worked into the jacket and waistcoat.
No, Said the voice.
What? Why?
Do you want to be a laughing stock forever? Do you want to be Garcia’s tool even now?
My hand pulled back from the embroidered cloth as if burned.
Then what?
You need dignity. You need…gravitas. These things will make the older ones pay attention to you. Your charm can do the rest.
I see, I dropped my hand as my eyes scanned through my wardrobe. Though good quality, made to measure by a master of his trade, all my other clothes were… everyday. Nothing was as bold and daring as the embroidered one. Still, I went through the lot, becoming more frustrated as the choices diminished.
So it was thus that Eclipse found me.
“Did you sleep badly?” She asked from the doorway.
“Huh?” I twirled, completely deaf to her arrival until that moment, “No….no. I don’t have anything to wear.” I turned back to the mess around me, “I can’t wear any of this. None of it.”
“Not fitting anymore?” She stepped in and found the vest for the suit, her hand unburned by the delicate stitching.
“No. Not for tonight.”
“Is this a delusion of grandeur or is this….fashion?” She asked, almost to herself, as she stared at me, checking to see if the answers were written on my vest.
“I thought I wanted to make a certain impression. I was mistaken. I need to make another impression.” I replied tersely as if it weren’t already obvious, “….can I borrow your phone?”
“What? After what you did to your own last night?” I felt that was uncalled for. I didn’t imagine Schrek Net would be of use in a costuming crisis.
“Well, I have to go to Tailor’s for my dress, couldn’t we also pick you up a suit?” She suggested. Her phone stayed firmly in her pocket. Still, the suggestion had merit… and there was still time.
“Okay. We don’t have a car, so we’ll have to get a cab or something… “ I replied and started pulling from the devastation around me a clean, if now rumpled, suit.
It will be the simplest of tasks, the voice approved.
“Excellent. We’ll do that.”
An Uber was called, we were out of the apartment in minutes. The night of the Succubus Club, starting with a frustrated whine and not a bang.
6.00 pm Thursday, 12 December 13 hours until sunrise, Succubus Club Leichhardt
Mads awoke, the smell of alcohol and blood on her clothes. She checked her phone, but there were no messages. No one had bothered to tell her what the plans were for the evening. She sat on her bed, playing with her wedding band. There was a moment she thought to take it off and spare Alex the horrors of the Club, but as the band met resistance at her knuckle, she gave up.
Yes, Giovanni, I will have you for this just as I will have my reckoning with Izac, She swore quietly to herself before getting up and dressing in her suit for the night.
6.00 pm Thursday, 12 December 13 hours until sunrise, Succubus Club Leichhardt
Dominic was the last to rise and had the least preparation. He had his mismatched suit of many fashions waiting on his valet stand opposite his coffin. He got up, dressed and was out the door to the Crowbar in half an hour, excited by the thought of the night’s festivities.
Mads arrived first, having to only cross the road, and wandered the bar looking for… anyone. Not one friendly face…not even Delith who only made it to the list by familiarity. The place in fact looked pretty empty. A few young things, starting their night in the common room. A few old things, seducing the young. She stood waiting, and felt eyes in the room watch her. Paranoia flared as she realised an event such as the Succubus Club would bring the Hunters crawling out of the woodwork.
“Hey, dressed to impress,” One of the older human predators decided to make his presence felt.
“Sorry, I’m waiting.”
“Yeah, waiting for me,” He smiled, tobacco and coffee-stained teeth making him look ten years older, “How are you doing?”
Mads shivered visibly and turned away.
“You strike me as a girl who likes her martini dry…personally I like mine wet,” He grinned lewdly.
This girl will strike you if you lay a hand on the suit, Mads thought, and decided an empty VIP lounge was better than being oogled or worse in the common bar. Expertly striding out on her stiletto heels she heard the man’s final charming volley.
“Fucking Ice Queen.”
Below the common room floor, Dominic drove into the private carpark and silently made his way up to his office. With any luck he’d been spending the rest of the week at the Club so gave the security of the Bar a once over before leaving it in the capable hands of his ghouls. Everything looked quiet, which was to be expected. There were a few regular faces waiting for dates, but he didn’t see anyone significant to him and adjourned to his office to check the books.
Stallion and his bat arrived only a few minutes later. Checking his phone, he was surprised there wasn’t a message from any of the coterie. Using the latest group chat, he sent his own message:
WHERE ARE WE MEETING UP? WHEN?
Talking off his helmet, Stallion moved the hair follicles on his head to stand on end, making spikes that would have taken him twenty minutes with hair gel. Now, all he needed was his new yellow suit.
NEW PHONE, WHO THIS? He received a reply from an unlisted number.
STALLION, WHO U?
AH, HORSE BOY, Stallion recognised Mads’ tone and was surprised. He hadn’t meant to send the message to her, I’M AT THE USUAL.
NO WACKAS MOODY MADS, he replied with a smirk and went in search of her up in the VIP room.
“Where’s the rest of them?” Was the greeting Mads gave Stallion as he walked down into the near empty VIP lounge.
“Sods if I know. I’ve been blown off, clearly. You’re the only one who answered.” Stallion replied a little put out. He, like Mads, wondered where everyone else was on such a night.
Mads raised an eyebrow, “Interesting phrasing. I assumed we’d all meet here.”
“What’s wrong with the phrasing? It’s already a phrase,” Stallion protested as Mads shrugged.
“Gone with the times, I suppose.”
Their phones buzzed.
I AM IN THE OFFICE FINISHING SOME PAPERWORK BEFORE WE GO OUT. It was from Dominic.
“Right, “Mads said, as she finished reading just before Stallion. She sucked her lip, “Well, that’s where he is. I guess we should go up and see if our benefactor has any more thoughts about the business deal I offered him.”
OKAY, ON OUR WAY, Stallion texted back and the two of them headed back up the stairs. Passing through the common room, Mads once more felt the unfriendly stares of Hunters. Stallion clip-clopping behind her, his wedge jaw swinging and black robes flapping wasn’t making them less conspicuous. She quickly climbed the stairs and out of sight.
Eclipses and I were at Tailors. Her phone had been buzzing for a while, but as she’d made it clear I wasn’t to touch her phone, and she didn’t seem interested in what the coterie had to say; so it remained in her pocket. The phone buzzed again and I looked at her questioningly. She rolled her eyes, sighed and pulled out her phone.
“Everyone else is at the Crow Bar. We’ve beaten them to the punch.”
“Okay,” I replied and silently waited for Tailor.
“You don’t seem very excited, Rain. You’re ruining the vibe. Like, you always have something to talk to me about, usually I’m the quiet and broody one.”
“Um… Well…maybe for the Club we could switch rolls,” I said. In truth, I had to focus to come up with even that reply. I hoped this would become easier otherwise the Succubus Club was going to be a disaster.
“Okay, “ She said, sounding like she was losing her temper, “Just…don’t sound pathetic.”
“Sorry, I mean…sorry.” Pathetic, ‘You’re right, I’m a Toreador.” I tried sitting up a little straighter, but I found my thoughts drifting back to listen for the voice.
“And yet you don’t seem happy or convinced. This night of all nights you are demoralised.”
“I’ll be better when I’m there,” I tried to convince her and myself, “The bright lights, the people…”
Eclipse crossed her arms, “You know what, Rain. I don’t think anyone told you that you are enough.”
What did she say?
“You don’t need the lights or the applause. You are enough.”
“No. No one’s ever said that,” I replied truthfully. I’d been many things…made myself be many things to appeal or appease or placate. But enough…as I was, without…trying to be…other? It was a concept alien to decades of living experience.
“Then I implore you to hear it from me,” Eclipse crouched so we were eye to eye.
“I hear you, Eclipse, “ I acknowledged and she gave me one of her rare smiles. It was like seeing Luna again, and I realised for all we’d been through, we were both still in there…somewhere.
“If Izac’s not waiting for you outside the Club… because if he is then it’s absolutely fine….but if he isn’t, can I walk in with you?”
She gave it a moment’s thought, “I…wouldn’t mind that,” Even if I wasn’t her Izac…I could be good enough, at least for that.
“Then, I will be the lucky man that accompanied Miss Eclipse to the Succubus Club.”
The Tailor shuffled out of his workroom to greet us. He looked tired…or maybe that was just old age. I rose and we greeted him warmly.
“Tailor, I’m in a little bit of a problem. I can’t wear what you made for me. It is beautiful…when you made it, but I can’t do that now.”
“Yes, I know, I know, too garish,” He nodded sagely.
“Yes, and it’s not who I want to be anymore.”
“What do you have in mind? What speaks to you?”
I’d had a little time to think, and the voice had been quite insistent in their demands. It had all been about finding something…stately that the Elders would understand and be comfortable with.
“I was thinking, Republican Roman Senators toga and tunic. White Egyptian cotton tunic, natural leather belt and Roman military boots with a full circle woolen toga with a red stripe of office.
He didn’t bat an eye, “Very easyily done. Give me thirty minutes.” And that was that.
“Miracle worker!”
“And Eclipse, you’re here for your dress?”
“Yes, please?
“Do you want your dress first or can I work on the tunic and toga?”
“Let the clothes be made first.”
A tunic is a simple thing. A long piece of fabric, sew up the sides with a hole cut in the middle and trimmed in another colour for the head to poke through. Same with the toga.White woolen cloth, six metres long and cut into a semicircle. With such clothes it was all about how you wore it. You could look like a nobleman or a clothesline depending on how you wrapped, tied and bound each layer. As clothes went, it was a simple thing, and Tailor, true to his work, had both pieces reading to try on within the hour.
It was as Tailor was delivering my outfit to try on that the others arrived at the store.
6.45 pm Thursday, 12 December 13 hours until sunrise, Succubus Club Leichhardt
“Are we there yet?” Mads complained, plonking herself down into one of the visitor chairs.
“No, young Mads, we are not,” Dominic replied with seeming infinite patience.
“I think there were some hunters downstairs. Maybe snooping around to find out where the Succubus Club is.”
“I didn’t see anything before, “ Dominic replied. Paranoia is a virus and it spreads quickly from person to person by word of mouth, “Just excuse me.” and he rose to once more to check the security cameras.
“What car are we taking, boss? I’ll warm it up,” said Stallion, eager to get going.
“We have to pick up your suit first, and find the others. Just wait here.”
Dominic went through the security footage, checking for suspicious or unusual behaviour. He didn’t see anything but people out for a good night; at least there were no wild-eyed mad men brandishing crucifixes. He returned to a quiet office, full of expectation. It was time to go.
“Mads, I’m sure you’re seeing things. Now, it’s past time we were off to get Stallion’s suit. We have a party to go to.”
“Can we go? I don’t know where the other two are,” Mads asked, following in Dominic’s wake with Stallion close behind.
Stallion sent out a group message, ON MY WAY TO TAILOR.
Eclipse had disappeared into a changeroom with Tailor to be dressed, when Stallion, Mads and Dominic arrived. I had just pulled on my tunic and was working out a way to strap Lupara on without her showing.
“You can’t take a weapon with you. Mr Giovanni, Rain’s taking his gun,” Stallion said like a bully in a playground. I ignored him and started pulling the toga together. Dominic walked in, took in the tunic and toga, and said nothing.
“Dominic, I’m glad you’re here, “I said, throwing the tail of the toga over my left shoulder, “You did suggest last night I should look at a new outfit. You were right, again. What do you think?”
“Very fitting,” He said and pulled at the tunic to fix my seam, “Though you are going to have to adjust the toga to hide Lupara. Let me help you.”
As Stallion got into his yellow tuxedo, Dominic and I shifted and bunched the toga one way and another, but in her usual configuration, something always revealed Lupara’s presence. Eventually, I took the toga off, and from a scrap of leather Tailor had used to make my belt and boots, I made a belt loop that Lupara’s could rest in on my left-hand side, well hidden under metres of fabric. With care, Dominic helped me redress in the toga, and finally I felt its weight on my shoulders and knew the history the clothes imparted. I stood before the group feeling, if not exactly myself, someone capable and assured, with the whole force of millions of citizens at my back.
But no one was looking at me, for at the same time, Eclipse stepped out of the changing room a vision in deep red, gold and grey silk. No one said a word.
“And they said that Stallion would take the spotlight, “ I said, taking a breath.
“Time to pick up Aunty, “ Dominic clapped to get all our attention and led the way to the limousine.
“But should I get a bowtie for my bat?” Stallion asked as Mads trooped out, ignoring him, “You know, dress him up.”
We’d all tried ignoring the bat. It was hard because of the smell.
“The bat is a little gauche, Stallion,” Eclipse floated by a cloud of red, “Didn’t you pay attention at the Dracula show?”
“I couldn’t with Rain talking at me and others getting themselves lost,” Stallion snarked back.
“It will be eaten, “ I said plainly, and left.
Lucretia must have been waiting inside the door. As soon as the Limousine pulled up, the door opened by itself, and Lucretia glided down the stairs to the waiting hand of her nephew. The raw human skin of a few nights ago had been transformed into a gown of eerie elegance. Lucretia had used a little of her own gifts to age the skin a soft grey.
“You look exquisite, Aunty,” Dominic handed Lucretia into the Limousine with the rest of us, and Stallion offered her a glass of chilled ‘red’ from the selection always ready in the car. He poured her a glass before chugging the rest of the bottle himself, taking up another half of a seat with his manspread.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, “Said Dominic, finding his seat amongst us, “To the Succubus Club.”
7.00 pm Thursday, 12 December 12 hours until sunrise, Succubus Club The Domain
The Art Gallery of New South Wales is a 130-year-old building (by its older sections) standing alone on a hill, facing a large open space called the Domain, backing onto the Botanic Gardens, and overlooking Garden Island and the old Naval docks. Made of the same golden sandstone as many of the old buildings in Sydney, it was made to inspire a young colony (soon to be nation) with the wonders of the ancients. Its entrance, a short set of skirting stairs, leads to a cluster of ionic columns holding up a classic triangular tympanum portico. The left and right wings were decorated with a random assortment of bronze frescoes from throughout history. The Art Gallery had been one of my many refuges in bad weather and poorer prospects in the before times, and it seemed fitting that it was the location of the Succubus Club.
As the limousine drove up outside, we, one by one, stepped out to stand in front of thousands of years of history, plonked down in one of the younger nations of the world. If I had felt self-conscious of my archaic costume, standing before this building, I felt once more the sense that history was protecting me.
There were a few, like us, leaving cars and preparing to enter. Both Eclipse and I scanned the portico and in front of either wing, but Izac was nowhere to be seen. I silently extended my right arm, and Eclipse took it with grace, hiding whatever disappointment she may have felt. Dominic, of course, took his Aunt’s arm.
“Mads,” Stallion held out his elbow for Mads to take. She stared at it as if it were a poisonous snake. He dropped his arm.
“You know what, “Mads said, looking upon the beautiful spectacle around us, “Out of all the people…whatever, sure, Stallion.” And she wrapped her arm around his.
With Dominic and Lucretia leading the way, we climbed the short flight of steps as the music inside shifted to a gloomy, gothic sound with a lot of loose bass, heavy guitars, and a sense of impending doom. The gallery’s foyer was an impromptu gathering space, and dozens stood around, talking or waiting. Scattered around the room, Noferatu in ushers’ uniforms, stood quietly. I wondered what these kindred had done to be on servant duty in an event like this.
“Have you all received your messages?” Dominic asked, reminding Stallion, Eclipse and me that we were to find out our Writ of Recitation sometime tonight.
“No,” Stallion said first, which made me wonder if the Writ had been playing on his mind or if he really was as nonchalant about his vampire heritage as he seemed. Eclipse and I echoed Stallion’s reply.
“Huh. Unusual, “ Dominic said, but shrugged as if it were never mind, “Maybe you’ll receive them inside.”
‘That’s weird, “ Mads frowned and seemed to share Dominic’s sentiment, “I would have thought you’d have them by now.”
“I’m going to have a look around. See you guys later,” She finally said with a wave and disappeared into the main building.
“I’ll move off too,” Lucretia said to Dominic, “If that’s all right with you, Dominic?”
“With my blessings, Aunty,” He replied, and released her arm, and she glided away into one of the side galleries.
The rest of us weren’t sure where to go first. Dominic moved from Stallion, to Eclipse and finally to me and whispered one last piece of advice.
“You may have been set up to dethrone someone, but don’t play their game. Play your own.”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to, Dominic, “ I said with an innocent expression, “I’m here for a party.”
“Exactly,” Dominic nodded and wandered off.
Now it was just us three, Stallion, Eclipse and me.
“What do you want to do, Rain?” Eclipse asked after noting there were no written guides or an event board.
“I wonder what these ushers have to say,” I said, gesturing to the nearest.
“All I need to know is where the cloak room is,” Stallion said, brandishing a suit bag with his regular clothes in it. At least that was simply done, being just off the foyer, and he stalked off in that direction.
With no better idea, I guided us over to a kindred usher sulking in a corner.
“Good evening. Do you have any idea what’s happening here tonight?”
“There’s a whole bunch of things on, what tickles your fancy?”
“We’re trying to sample as much as we can.”
“Sure,” he replied and started a very long and monotonous recitation of every room in the club and what it contained.
- Entry of the event
- “Coat rooms”
- Viewing gallery
- Showroom
- Standing room
- “Smoking” veranda
- Dance floor 1
- Dance floor 2
- Connection point
- Dance floor 3
- Wash rooms
- Staff rooms “Cooking”
- Packaging room “Sorting”
- Packaging room “Outgoing”
- Prep room
- Activity room
- Viewing room
- Music room
- Relaxing room
- Gambling hall
- Transition rooms
- Arts and crafts room
- Change rooms
- DJ Booth
- Viewing Gallery/dress rooms
- Roof access
- Brawl pits/ dance floor 4
- Blood “dance” floor/feeding room 1
- Private booths
- Cleaning room
- Parking area
- Park of Intrigue
- Open area
- Private access
- Abattoir
- Cleaning room
- Rest room 1
- Rest room 2
- Private meeting room
- Dumping grounds
- Firework area
Closing my eyes, I filled the spaces of the gallery with the list as best I could. I heard ‘Viewing Gallery’ and suggested that to Eclipse. With our destination chosen, we headed out of the foyer and into the building proper.
Stallion dropped off his bag at the cloakroom and headed straight to where the music was playing the loudest. The night was early, but the dance floor was already buzzing with dancing kindred. Stallion’s eyes glanced around the room, spotting a pale young goth woman with wild, roaming eyes in black fishnets. Their eyes met, as she took in the tall, sculpted blonde-haired man in a yellow tuxedo.
Walking up to her, Stallion gave her a nod of greeting, “Wanna dance?”
“Sure…maybe,” She replied, her eyes staring at his spiky hair, following his oversized jawline down to where Stallion had unbuttoned the top of his shirt to the first of his styled abs, “What’s your name?”
“The name’s Stallion, “ he grinned, “Can I have yours?”
Her black-stained lips smiled, “Sure, you can. I am Tatiana Steponova.” Suddenly, the music moved from electronic dance music to the rhythmic plucking of acoustic guitars and the clear vocals of Marty Robbins as the Country ballad El Passo tripped through the speakers. Stallion reached out his hand and she took it, and he led her out onto the dance floor.
“You look like a big strong type, “ She said as they swung into something of a waltz, “I bet you get into trouble all the time.”
“That depends if the trouble is worth it.”
“Isn’t that always the way.”
“I mean, there’s always risk, right?”
“If that is the case. Tell me, what is the most dangerous thing you’ve done?”
“I’ve been to jail a couple of times.”
“Really, what for?”
“Now, now. The night is young. We don’t have to learn everything about each other right away.”
“You look like such a tough nut. I’m just wondering what I’m getting into.”
“ I guess I can say I’ve done a few break and enters…”
“Me too!” Her large eyes widened even further, “What did you take?”
“What did I take? Whatever I could get my hands on. Mostly just the TV,” Stallion replied, feeling more at ease about sharing.
“Oh, me too. We have so much in common.”
For a moment, they just danced arm in arm as Marty Robbins continued to wail of his story.
…My challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor…
Eventually, Stallion had to fill the silence between them. “So, what do you do on your days off?”
“More or less the same. I find things of value, and I take them.”
“So, full-time,” He replied knowingly.
“Oh, you could say more of a compulsion really, but yeah.”
“I have a little side gig myself.”
“Yeah?”
“Besides my regular income, I like to do a little thieving…here and there, he smirked, “Thieving blood.”
They swirled around the dance floor, surrounded by couples that chatted or embraced or just silently danced to the gunslinger’s demise.
…Kissing my cheek as she knelt by my side
Cradled by two loving arms that I’d die for
One little kiss and Felina goodbye…
From the side of the dance floor, Mads watched, shaking her head. She continued on and climbed the steps to the next area. She had eyes for only one person, but as she reached a viewing space above the dance floor and Showrooms, she spied a rake-thin young man with long black hair and a tattoo of a crowned Jesus on his chest. Mads nodded politely but didn’t engage. He wasn’t Izac.
The music once again moved to a heavy grunge as she scanned the crowd. Though she could see the entire dance floor from her vantage point, Izac was not to be found. She turned to the young man beside her, who hadn’t spoken so far, and pointed to his tattoo.
“That’s a rather curious piece you have on you.”
“Yes, it most certainly is. Um, I don’t mean to be so much of a downer, but I have travelled quite a bit. You are aware of what is going to happen, yes?” The young man asked his voice, low and earnest.
“Not in the particulars…,” Mads replied, unsure what she’d started by making small talk.
“The end is happening soon.”
“Oh right, that, yes, of course…my apologies,” Mads had to work hard not to roll her eyes, “I guess we make the time good while we have it, right?”
“Or you could do some good and try stopping it…if you know what I mean?” he edged in closer, his eyes darting around, checking they weren’t overheard.
“Oh yeah, what’s your plan?”
“My plan? Find them and kill them.”
“Ah, alright…good conversation. I’ll be sure to see you around.”
“Yeah, see you around.” The young man leaned away from Mads and smiled as if they’d done nothing but exchange pleasantries.
Eclipse and I entered the nearest viewing area from the foyer and looked around for friendly faces, or at least an idea of what we were there to view. Two individuals caught our attention: a young Asian woman wearing a business suit with a red dragon motif and an intense-looking bald man with glowing eyes. The young woman, being closer and to outward appearances non-threatening, I steered us in her direction.
“Good evening, do you know what’s happening in this room?” I asked the young woman.
“They haven’t started yet, but there are meant to be shows…entertainment. The more tasteful kinds. “
I was reminded of Brendan. Maybe this was where Miss Divine would be performing.
“Excellent!” I said with genuine enthusiasm, “Well, this looks like a place to come back to. We’re just currently getting our bearings.” I glanced around for the elusive Izac but saw nothing.
“Apologies, how rude of me. What is your name?” The young woman asked, but didn’t give your own.
“I’m Rain, pleased to meet you.”
“And your…partner…?” She asked, trying to discern Eclipse and our relationship. I let her keep guessing.
“This is Eclipse.”
“Very charmed to meet both of you. Would you like to know my real name or my…presenting name?”
“Whatever you feel comfortable giving,” I said, warming to the awkward young woman. There was something beyond autistic about her behaviour that transcended simple unfamiliarity with English.
“Whichever one has less baggage,” Eclipse added, echoing my thoughts.
“How very charitable of you both. You may call me Hēi Lóng. Hēi Lóng Gōngzhǔ.” She bowed her head, shuffled her feet and twiddled her fingers. I, at first, took this as a sign of more odd behaviour, until I realised I had become accustomed to the stillness of Dominic and the patrons of the Crow Bar. It seemed she was young, like us, and still held onto the habits of living.
What was unusual was her intense stare at the two of us. Her eyes flicked between Eclipse and me as if she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. I smiled and let her take her fill.
“How long have you been in Australia?” Eclipse asked, gathering that she, too, was one of our many overseas visitors.
“Two nights.”
“Very fresh, welcome to Sydney,“ I said. “It’s gratifying to have so many come from overseas for the Event.”
“Yes, it is a lovely place. I think we will run it much better when we finally make the journey.” She said, her pleasant expression undiminished.
I almost laughed. The Japanese had foolishly thought they could take Australia during the Second World War, before discovering how big the land actually was. But with a name like Hēi Lóng Gōngzhǔ, I didn’t think she was Japanese.
“And where are you from, if I may ask?”
“Originally, I am from the mainland…if you know what that means.”
“China. Then you are doubly welcome for being neighbours.”
She was too young to be Camarilla, even if they had a stronghold in China. Of what I knew of kindred in Asia, there was no more than twelve in the whole continent. It seemed she was talking about China itself taking over, but given her professional look and demeanour, she may have been referring to Corporate China. I wondered if she was Pentax, but left the question unasked. I’d had enough interaction with the local branch to know I didn’t want to mess with Pentax International.
Taking in all her tics and odd behaviour, I surmised the young woman was definitely Malkavian.
I turned to Eclipse, “Yes, we are great friends with a local…Bobby.” Eclipse’s eyes widened as she realised what I was saying.
“Ah, you know of Mr Listener?” Hēi Lóng asked, surprised that we would know Bobby.
“That’s where I know your eyes,” Eclipse said, returning the woman’s intense stare.
“Yes, I believe he and a few others are planning a…moment,” Hēi Lóng said, intriguing me. I wanted to ask her what she knew of this moment when she continued, turning to Eclipse. “I think you know all about that, don’t you Dark One.”
“Yeah. A show,” Eclipse replied, and I was sure that whatever it was, it would be a showstopper.
“I guess that’s why you have him next to you.” Hēi Lóng’s dark eyes turned back to me, “You’re both hard to read. You’re both hard to read but together… it’s like…an absence…a void…you’re imperceptible.”
Something fluttered in my chest that had nothing to do with my cold black heart. That she could see nothing for both of us. How long would it take at an event like this for that sort of information to get around?
“And our fortunes too, Eclipse. We are blessed tonight.” I smiled. It was time to move on. “Well, thank you for bearing with us. We don’t wish to bore you. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Looking forward to seeing you again, “ Eclipse said as we began to move away.
“It is good. He will be here in his own time. Do not worry.” Hēi Lóng said as a parting word.
“Hmm, we’ll look forward to that.
Dominic wandered the rooms before entering the theatre mezzanine as the music moved from a Byzantine war chant to rave electronica. Scanning the catwalk, he noted a familiar face from his time in New York. A vital young man with short, scruffy blond hair, a short beard and glasses. Now, if he could just place the name.
“A Giovanni, if I’m not mistaken, how are you doing tonight?” The man welcomed Dominic enthusiastically. Dominic was unsure if he was genuinely happy to see him or if it was a professional show. Well, two could play that game.
“I’m doing wonderfully,” Dominic replied, “And how are you?”
“I’m doing great. This is a great place to meet people with the same interests, if you know what I mean.” The man smiled, a big fake American smile. Dominic, let the comment slide for now.
“Yes, it’s going to be a truly wonderful event.”
“I’m sure it will be. Speaking of which, I assume, like the rest of your clan, you’re into moving things from place to place?” Blunt and straight to the point. As much as he loved his beloved home nation, they had no idea of small talk.
“I do shuffle goods and services around, yes.”
“No questions asked?”
“No questions asked.”
“Beautiful. As soon as I saw you, I knew you were the man to talk to. After this event, I may be in need of your services. If that’s amenable to you?”
“Certainly. I have some excellent…staff who have a talent for making things disappear and reappear somewhere else.”
The man held out his hand, and Dominic took it, “Marcus Williams.”
“Dominic Giovanni, “And now Dominic did remember the man, as he tried to see Marcus’ eyes reflected in his glasses and saw nothing. He was a La Sombre, a clan dominated by the Sabbat. That meant almost nothing to him. He’d dealt with the Camarilla and Sabbat in his time in New York. Dominic pulled out a business card.
“When you’re ready to conduct business, I have a little place just out of the City called the Crow Bar. Feel free to come by.”
“I’ll make sure my people meet your people, thank you.”
Dominic glanced around the room, looking for some sort of hint as to the performances on show.
“Have they announced what the entertainment is tonight?”
“I’ve heard a few. Poetry reading, some Tzimisce showing off their latest creations, torture sessions…” Marcus recited a list of general entertainment, “But the night is still young.”
“It is indeed.”
Tatiana could dance. Stallion was doing his best to keep up, but even with his decent constitution, he was starting to flag. Tatiana was good fun, but even Stallion was savvy enough to know that this wasn’t one to take home to meet the family; she was a thief. Besides, he had the feeling that she wanted something from him, and he definitely didn’t think he was in a sharing mood. Just then, the music shifted smoothly from trance to Judas Priest’s “Breaking the Law.“
“So are you local or from outback west?” Stallion asked, trying to find out something about Tatiana and what her agenda was.
“No, not local. I travel a lot. You know, keeping ahead of things.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Only if you’re not good at it.”
“You do seem to have a knack for it.”
“Yeah, you could say that. It just seemed to become my forever.”
“What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve done, then? Any werewolves or mages?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
“If it’s worth keeping.”
“All secrets are worth keeping.” She smiled mischievously.
“Go ahead, whisper it.”
She leaned in, resting her hands on Stallion’s broad chest so she could reach up to his ear and whispered, “A Prince.”
“What? One outside of Sydney?”
“Now, that would be telling.” She batted her long eyelashes as the music changed to a Highland folk dance with bagpipes, “For now, let’s just enjoy ourselves. Life is always switching up, like this music.”
Tatiana threw herself into a Highland jig, but Stallion had had enough dancing for now. As bright and interesting as Tatiana was, he wasn’t feeling it.
“Why don’t we sit out this one?” He suggested, turning to leave the dance floor.
“No, dance with me!” She grabbed his arm, and they stomped around, arms and legs flying everywhere.
Mads quickly cleared the catwalk and continued through the rooms until she found one set up like a casino. Dozens of tables lined the room, providing the chance to gamble, or show your skill, the night away at the game of your choice. As the sound system started playing Roadhouse Blues, by The Doors, Mads made eye contact with a man sitting alone at a table ready for a game of cards or dice. He was caucasian, bald and dangerous-looking. He wore a satin-collared shirt open at the neck and sleeves rolled up to reveal his collection of tattoos. The tattoos ran up his neck and down his arms and even over his fingers, showing either a dedication to the art or just masochism.
“Your ink is fascinating, I won’t lie,” Mads commented by way of small talk.
“Would you like to sit down?” The man replied in what she thought at first was a soft East Coast US accent. Clean and clipped, missing only the occasional ‘h’ or ‘th sound. She thought he sounded a little French.
“If I sit down, are we playing?” Mads asked, unsure she wanted to wager her life into indentured servitude, particularly to a Frenchman.
Let it roll Baby roll
Let it roll, All night long.
“Oh, we can have a few friendly games to start. Let you learn the rules.”
“Sure,” intrigued, Mads sat down, “Teach me the rules, and I might be able to play this game.”
The man scoffed, “Rules…what is your name, sweet thing?”
“The name’s Mads.”
“Enchante. My name is Pierre Bellamare.”
Mads had never heard of the name Pierre Bellamare, but something about this guy looked…dangerous.
“Well, what are we playing?”
“How old are you?” Pierre asked, and Mads was about to take offence, then had to do the quick mental calculations to work out how old she actually was.
“Old enough. Sixty…seventy. ”
“We’ll play something close to your age bracket. We will play five-card stud.” The deck of cards were drawn to the centre of the table, and Pierre shuffled them with an expert hand.
“We’ll play a couple of hands and then…well, we can start putting things on the table.”
If Mads could sweat, she would have felt the prickle of heat as she felt the eyes of a top-order predator on her.
“What’s usually put on the table?”
The future’s uncertain and the end is always near.
“It depends. Favours. Servants. Blood. Years of service…”
“Hmm, let’s stick to favours, but I’m prepared to play a few games to warm up.”
Pierre shuffled the cards and dealt out five cards each. Mads picked up her cards and tried to keep her expression in check. Three Kings looked back at her, ready for a fight.
Pierre didn’t miss a beat, “Three Kings for you is good, but it won’t beat my four Queens.” He knew his own and hers without looking at a card. That was when Mads saw the teeth of the tiger.
“This game seems hardly fair.” She laughed, placing her card back on the table face down and returning them to Pierre, “So, what brings you to Sydney?”
“Many interests, but always pleasure, even when it’s business.”
“Well, when you love your work,” Mads smiled and was sure that no matter how smooth this guy was, she wasn’t interested in ‘playing’ with him. She went to make her leave when he held out a hand and stopped her.
“There’s something different about you from the others.”
Seeing another stalling tactic, she sat back down and waited to hear his line.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“You’re scared.”
Mad’s brow creased, and she sat mutely for a moment just staring at Pierre. What did he know? How could he know?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She replied as calmly as she could.
“I’m the liar here, not you. I can…smell it. It’s surrounding you like a perfume.”
“Well, I guess when you’re in such company, one can’t help but be a bit anxious, seeing as though this is my first time at one of these events.” She nodded her head, gesturing not just to him but to the whole room of vampires and creatures of the night.
“Enjoy it to the fullest. You’ll never know when it will be your final sunrise,” He said casually, returning the cards to their position beside him. It seemed that even he knew they were finished with the game.
“Yeah,” Mads sucked her lips, trying to shake off the shiver that had found residence in her spine, “Let’s hope there are many more.” She made to rise once more, “Listen, as much as I’d love to continue playing with you, I can see I’m beat. I just don’t have your skill.”
“We’ve all been beat ever since the beginning,” He replied cryptically, and Mads decided she didn’t have bandwidth or the capacity to continue the conversation.
“At least here, I can choose to step away from the table. It was a pleasure to have met you,” She said and, with a wave of farewell, moved on.
The bald man with the dagger tattoo hadn’t stopped staring at Eclipse and me the whole time we’d been speaking with Hēi Lóng. No, not us, I realised…Eclipse. As we were deciding what to do next, I pointed him out to her.
“He’s been making eyes in your direction. Do you want to talk to him or find somewhere else?”
“Is he?” She turned to face the staring man and smirked, “Hmm, kind recognises kind.”
That he was a Brujah didn’t come as much of a surprise; that she still looked like she wanted to talk to him did.
“I don’t know if you’re the jealous type, Rain.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact with the stranger.
Jealous? Me? Because I enjoy being the centre of everyone’s attention?
“I could leave if you want to speak to him alone,” I suggested, unsure what her interest in him could be. The man tilted his head, knowing we were talking about him, and the safety pin through his nose glinted in the light.
“Let me sort this one out, and I’ll come and I’ll find you in a moment,” She replied, releasing my arm.
An Irish folk song began as Eclipse spun on the spot, her train twirling around behind her. Now a dark flame in image and in nature, she advanced under the glow of the kindred’s eyes.
“You know, in another life, that stare of yours would have been considered threatening.”
He smirked, nodding his head in agreement.
“Have you come to meet someone, or are you more of a voyeur?” She goaded him, her cold flame flickering in her stomach.
“I wanted to see if there was any fire left in you,” He finally spoke, his voice more eloquent than his appearance.
“Ooh, I’d be careful if I were you. I burn really cold.
“Good. Then maybe we’ll be able to put that to good use.”
“Yeah, but I’m not fond of games,” She said, making her conversation companion blink.
“What games?”
“I don’t know if you’re looking to score or looking to play. What is it? Are you for real?”
“I’m looking to take every cunt from the top of the tower down to the ground,” He growled. She stirred him up and learned he was the same Brujah as all the others. She almost sighed in disappointment.
“What’s your name, firebrand?” He asked.
“Eclipse. Your?”
“Genghis.”
“If you’d said Khan, I would have laughed.”
“No Khans at all. Just Genghis. And I’m here to bring every person who doesn’t want to touch the ground down with the rest of us. I’ve been doing this many decades, and they still haven’t put me in the fucking ground.”
“Clearly, the Prince of Sydney is not scared of you.”
“Maybe if he’d show his face I’d show you, hmm?” He shifted against his piece of wall and made a point of cracking joints, just like a human tough-guy.
“Now that, I’d watch,” Eclipse said, and a slow, malicious smirk lit her features.
He laughed, “Then later on we may see it together.”
I knew when I wasn’t wanted and moved off to the next room, to what looked like, at first glance, an art exhibit of odd and disjointed figures. Then I saw the statues breathing. Beside me, one moaned, its eyes rolling in its head. I stumbled into a Tzimisce showroom.
A burning righteous indignation flared in my chest, and for a moment I was surprised by the power of the feeling. Once more, I was confronted with the suffering we inflict on others.
“And this too shall pass, “ I said to myself through clenched teeth. My fingers twitched to Open the Veil. I knew if I stayed, I’d make a scene. I spun on my heels to leave for the next room when I spotted an odd individual intently staring at one of the ‘pieces’.
He was thin, skeletally so, and his brown skin was taut against the bones, smooth and shiny like a body dried in a desert sun. He was wearing a loose white shirt, well-tailored in a century past, the collar open to show his sternum and ribcage, wrapped in dark, leathery skin. Initially, he reminded me of Padre Craneo, but where the Padre had the feeling of age about him, this one was full of a younger man’s energy, shifting and moving as he examined the ‘goods’ on display.
The music shifted to a driving rap that seemed to match the frenetic movements of the person I was watching.
“Do you like your food processed?” I asked him.
“Actually, I’d prefer my food to be willing, “ He creaked, literally creaking. Though his voice was papery and raspy, as he turned to reply, his joints and skin groaned like long-abused cane furniture, “But, alas, as you see me now, due to the terrible rules of the Club, I can not be…allowed amongst the living as much.”
Now face to face with the man, I could see his eyelids and lips were drawn back tight against teeth and eyes, giving him a rictus grin. What should have been a handsome face was a nightmare. Like the Padre and all the Nosferatu, this one had been cursed doubly; once as an undead, and once again by how the curse manifested.
“At least you’re free to be who you are within the Club,” I said sympathetically. “My name is Rain.”
“Exactly.” He seemed to sigh and take something from my words, “I’m Jack Dawson. Oh, and don’t mind the grin. I’m stuck this way.”
I shrugged, gesturing my indifference, “Maybe we could go somewhere with a better view and chat?”
“Hmm, possibly,” He replied, sizing me up, “But if I could possibly get a bite to eat first?”
“By all means,” I stepped back gesturing to the room.
Jack, having made his choice, grabbed the arm from one of the displays biting and tearing. Again, like Padre, he ate the meat and blood making a gory mess where he and his meal stood. I was glad I stepped back, the white of the tunic and toga being historically difficult to keep clean. Still, at least Jack was enjoying his meal to judge from the sounds he was making.
I’m sippin’ on you like some fine wine though
And when its over I press rewind though
However, there was something not…kindred about Jack. An animal-like quality I hadn’t seen even in the few Gangrel I’d met. I’d heard of werewolves turned into kindred, but I didn’t think he was that either. He was either a kinfolk or had been in a time before. A human touched by the wolf without the ability to change. Jack Dawson was a rare being indeed.
I focused on keeping my expression passive and waited until Jack was finished with his meal.
“Thank you for your patience and…not making a big deal out of…” He waved at the mess that had once been a human being, “…I’m sure someone else will clean this up. Where did you want to go?”
Anywhere rather than here, I thought, and gestured to the door I was about to leave through.
“I’m just wandering, really. The next room will be fine.” And we crossed the threshold as Rolling Stones’ Time is on my side, began filtering through the speakers. It must be said that even if I didn’t necessarily enjoy all the songs being played, they were certainly fitting.
The next room was just an empty space meant for gathering and mingling. Devoid of tables and chairs that would be usual in such a space, it was no wonder it had been called the Standing Room. Far more comfortable, I turned my full attention to my companion, Jack Dawson.
“Thank you. I’m not…fond of the Tzimisce arts,” I admitted. Though I understood that an image of strength was preferred in kindred (if not also in human society), I had made a living being underestimated and wasn’t about to give up my advantage just yet.
“That’s a pity. Their skills have their uses,” Jack replied, and as it had supplied him with a meal, who was I to argue? “What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Lay about at my adoptive sire’s expense?” I joked, “No, I’m establishing a nightclub, a kindred bar where, like this place, everyone can feel welcome to be themselves. We’re local, and our patch is only a few kilometres out of the City proper.”
The rictus grin, now with added strings of tendon caught between pearly white teeth, didn’t change, “Yes, we can always do with more saloons.”
You’re searching for good times but just you wait and see
You’ll come running back
You’ll come running back
You’ll come running back to me
Saloons, from the French, were a gathering of notables. Besides, it giving me an inkling into Jack’s history, I found I like the idea.
“Indeed.”
“Forgive me, I always find it rude to ask, but how old are you?” He asked, and I felt my time with Jack Dawson was quickly coming to an end.
“Ah, and now it is I who finds myself apologising…very young. I understand if you wish to move on and find a more suitable conversation companion, I would not be offended.”
“No, no, not at all. It was something I used to do a lot of, once upon a time. How have you prepared yourself for The Killing?”
The Killing. Not killing, the general murder we committed as a species every day, but the phrase felt like an event, something expected to arrive…like Christmas.
“That is not something that has come up in my experience as yet,” I admitted freely.
“Given enough time, it will happen. If you live lifetimes, there will always be killing.
“The nature of existence, I’m afraid. Until it ends, death will always follow.”
“Exactly,” He said like a man who had dealt in death for a very long time, “In my experience, it’s best to know who you need to kill and get it done safely.”
“I agree.” And maybe I did know what he meant. Hadn’t we killed for the Prince on numerous occasions? Knowing who to get it done with without losing any of our own.
“It might take a day, a week, a year…a century. It’s worthwhile knowing when you need to get them, but make sure it’s done and done right…”
“Yes. Doing it correctly. Finishing it.”
“Exactly. Keeping them down. Not just staking them out and leaving them to the elements. Done and dusted.”
“Yes.” I found I knew exactly what he meant.
“You were talking about the killing. Could I impose on you to elaborate?” I knew I was pushing my luck with an older kindred (and I figured this one was older than a hundred years old), but I found that a relationship with Jack Dawson was something I wanted to cultivate. If he wanted something for his time and information, I had a feeling I’d be willing to help.
“Of course. In my day…the early days when they came over and decided to civilise us all. There were many times, even the most peaceful places, death was called for. Either for self preservation, land , safety, or for the damn hell of it. There is always killing that needs to be done. Knowing who you can and can’t kill is the important part.”
“Yes. Not everyone goes to their grave in their beds. I find I do have experience of what you’re referring to. Life and Unlife have taught me that much.” Hadn’t that been the message behind my Harrowing? If for no other reason than death following life it all had to end.
“If you ever need to learn something about a rifle or a pistol, you do me a couple of favours, and I’d do you a couple in that respect, “ He offered casually, and I knew in the moment I would take him up on the offer.
“As a matter of fact, I have recently come into the ownership of a…ranged weapon. I would be happy to pick up some pointers, for a few small favours.”
“Good. Well, I know what you like,” and he laughed self-effacingly at himself, “You certainly know what I look like.” I’ll find you easily enough, it is no difficult task.”
“It’s been very nice talking to you, Jack.”
“You’re welcome, Rain.”
Dominic had found a, if not good companion in Marcus Williams, as least a pleasant conversationalist. Even for a La Sombre. Business talk done for now, they looked out over the lower round from their roost on the catwalk and watched the Succubus club unfold around them. The sound of raised voices above the piped music drew Dominic’s attention down where Eclipse, a dash of deep red, was arguing with a tattooed man in the unofficial uniform of the Brujah. Leaning down, he focused on their altercation until he was satisfied that it was just the bluster of Brujah and nothing more.
Ah, its a Brujah thing. Let the children play, He thought, Eclipse does have a habit of exploding situations; she has to learn to deal with her own without setting off the nuclear detonator, and returned to Marcus. It was time to move on and see what the Club had to offer.
Wishing Marcus a good evening, Dominic left and wove around the building until he entered the Arts and Crafts Hall. Here, kindred worked in mundane material, common and rare. He stopped, drawn to the work of an individual with alabaster-tattooed skin, wearing white flowing robes, working with a femur on a copper plate. Tribal war music on drums, pipes and something like the drone of a didgeridoo filtered through the air as Dominic stopped and watched the master at work building a ritual into the metal. Dominic’s Sanskrit was shaky at best, but he thought the ritual said something about ‘Destroying the frame’ or ‘Breaking the gate’.
“Hello young one,” Said the artisan, taking a moment to look up from his work, Äre you interested in my drawing?”
“I’ve always had an interest in the occult, ever since I was young,” Dominic admitted, recognising the man as an ethnic Indian (a nation almost forgotten by the world), and a follower of Set known as The Devil Brahmin. His reputation was one for travelling the world and…upsetting the movers and shakers. He made it his responsibility that those who need it have their reckoning.
“My Sanskrit is a bit rough, but…breaking?”
“Yes, sundering. No barrier impeding those who use this correctly.”
“And the ritual as a whole? If you don’t mind me asking, what is it designed to do?”
“It opens the way and destroys anyone on the other side. As a necromancer yourself, I’m sure you understand that there are things beyond this world.”
“Interesting, and the origins of the ritual?” Dominic was fascinated. The more he studied the engraving, the lines and intersections, the sigils and their alignments, the more he found he wanted to know.
You know the preacher like the cold
He knows I’m gonna stay…
California Dreaming drifted through the space as Dominic’s mind was consumed with the ritual coming to life in his mind.
“Some of the beings…from the other side, have come across in the past, and this is a way to catch them unawares. Setting the terms of the engagement rather than letting them…wander in as they please. These particular ones…there are many names for them, but they would be known as Body-Snatchers or Nation Stealers. This is a way of killing off the parasites before they get us.”
“Which is exactly where the parasites belong,” Dominic agreed with the Master before him.
“It’s a shame that the Mages couldn’t really team up with us.”
“They really did seclude themselves,” Dominic replied in defence, “I mean, our lot certainly did the same thing too.”
The master craftsman merely nodded and continued his work, “Soon, one way or another, it will all be done.”
Lifting his head, he took in Dominic for the first time during their conversation.
“I like to see these seals…appropriately used.” It wasn’t an offer, but Dominic knew his part in the dance between a Master and potential apprentice.
“Do you run a seminar or teach your practices?”
“I’m always willing to teach those who have the time and favours to offer. But as a kindness to the younger generation, I can teach you some simple counter magics. If you’re so inclined.”
“I am indeed inclined.”
The Devil Brahmin finished the piece of script he was working on, put aside the work and gestured for Dominic to follow him.
As the highland jig faded into the theme music for Donkey Kong Country 2, Stallion finally broke away from Tatiana in search of a breather.
“I’ll keep you in mind, Stallion,” Tatiana said with a wave and went back to the dance floor.
Through a glass door onto a verandah, he found a small cluster of smokers indulging in the night air.
A distinguished-looking man in a fine grey suit, his hair tied back in cornrows, stood leaning against the railing. He glanced over as Stallion entered, pulling out a joint.
“Do you want help with that?” The man asked.
“Sure, Stallion accepted and held the joint between his lips without concern as a naked flame was brought within centimetres of his face.
“What brings you to this event, besides the obvious?” The man asked as Stallion took his first good inhale of the night.
“I’m here with my coterie. We’re doing our own things at the moment.”
“Okay, so you’re not looking to get a little favour? Make big plans?”
“We are going to see what we come across and get together later. That may lead to something.”
“Do you mind travelling at all?”
“Nothing stopping me. The thing is, is it worth it?”
“For the right seller, it is always worth it.”
“Money, huh?”
“Nothing as basic as that. I’m talking about kingdoms, empires…legacy. Not legacy for us obviously, but making things that will survive the ages.”
“Basically, making a note in the history books.”
“Not notes. Chapters. Sagas.”
“Sounds too big for me, but I’m happy to listen.”
“Many little pieces are needed to topple a nation. Many small parts make the whole, especially those who listen. Tell me, what would you consider your strengths?”
“I like a little fighting, with my hands, and then some.”
The man laughed, “We probably have that in common then. After all this is over, I’d like to hit you up, we could do a little travelling. In return, I will shape you, the best that you can be.”
“You’re going to train me up?”
“I will make you something to be feared. Even the elder will look at you in envy.”
It was a tempting offer, but even Stallion knew how young and inexperienced he was.
“To be honest, I’m a little too green for that right about now.”
“Not when I’m done with you. You’ll be a proper hero.”
Stallion spluttered, a plume of thick smoke drifting out into the night.
“A hero? Fuck! That’s some heights there.”
“Yeah, when you’ve got forever, you’ve got to dream big.”
“Yeah, and when you’re young, you’ve got to look after yourself.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.”
“And exactly who are you to me? A stranger.”
“You can call me Maxwell. Don’t worry, Stallion. I won’t ride you too hard, and you’ll be impressive by the end.”
“I’d have to see how you’re going to train me before going too far. I don’t mind doing a few jobs here and there, but you know, as far as going all the way…that’s a big commitment.”
“Well, we can arrange something and see how things work out. You can treat it like an interview of a kind.”
“Sounds like an idea.”
“Don’t worry, we’re going to be great together. I see big things for you.”
8.00 pm Thursday, 12 December 12 hours until sunrise, Succubus Club The Domain
Notable NPCs
Abram: Ventrue, and one of the six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Alex Holmstead: Husband of Mads. Location and status unknown.
Alicia: Toreador Vampire met at the Crow Bar
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Thomas Becket: Wearer of the Skull mask. A.K.A. Lord Campden a 5th generation Capadocian and former Seneschal of London under Mithras. Talented necromancer. Knew Sarrasine and Lady Stone in London. Distaste for Tremere and Giovanni.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Blanco Falzo: A man who had made into the likeness of Stallion’s dog for a time. Now deceased.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Chucko: Malkavian clown from 2023 Earth. Part of a gang called the Bozos.
Critias: Old gentleman kindred Rain has made a deal with to be a ‘playing piece’ in a game at the Succubus Club.
Days of the Week: Pseudonyms for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of. She is Sunday, and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson, though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Police ‘premiere’ detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He currently has an assistant named Notetaker.
The Devil Brahmin: SC Follower of Set. Teacher of Magic. Met by Dominic.
Doctor Willis Hodge: A ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
El Torcedor: “The Twister” or ore accurately, “The Fleshcrafter” A Tzimisce from South America
Ezequiel Coyotl: SC. Long dark haired kindred met by Mads who wished to kill those who would end the world.
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Wollongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador, current whereabouts unknown.
Francesco: a werewolf, part of the Spiral Dancers who investigated the Pyrmont basement.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of the homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Genghis: SC. Brujah argued with Eclipse.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Harold Zettler: Chairman of the board of Pentax multinational. Standing member of the Sabbat.
Hēi Lóng Gōngzhǔ : SC Chinese Malkavian met by Eclipse and Rain. A.K.A Black Dragon Princess
Jack Dawson: SC met by Rain. Gunfighter.
Joel Mitchell: Mads’ friend. Deceased.
Jules Talbot: Seneschal to Prince Sarrasine of Sydney
Kenneth Stahl: South African Giovanni (exiled)
Laibon: Vampire Clan out of Africa
Lady Merritt Stone: A very old and powerful vampire who has taken an interest in Izac. Rain spoke to her about the Coterie and Izac’s mission. Also known as: Lady Jennifer Stone and Lady Ophelia Meritt. Consort to Mithras. Exiled from London and wanted by the Ventrue. See also: The Red List or Kemintiri. Fourth Generation, Followers of Set. Suspected embrace, 1300BCE. Sire: Set. Childer: numerous. Evidence points to her being the creator of the Children of Osiris.Known to be a master of disguise to rival even the best, to the point that even Nosferatu have a difficult time discerning her. Known associates: Mithras, Set, Horus. Kemintiri is First on The Red List. She is immune to blood blonds and Dominate. There is no known exception. She is the only being known to have returned from Wassail.
Lambach Ruthven: Kin met at the theatre. Sire of Dracula. Drug addict.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Maxwell: SC met by Stallion.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Padre Craneo: Nagaraja vampire met at the Crow Bar
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Paul Derrogard: Name given by Monday of the Days of the Week. Claimed to be Ventrue.
Pentax: a multinational group that is involved in a secret project called Omega.
Persephone: Sixth gen Malkavian who works security for Pentax an multinational company. Her sire is Harold Zettler. Something to do with the Spiral Dancer.
Pierre Bellamare: SC Gambler. Met by Mads.
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Rumplestiltskin: A Kiasyn mixologist who uses fairies in his drinks.
Sebastian Melmoth: Kin met at the theatre. Powerful Toreador. Oscar Wilde.
Shara-had: Banu Haqim (Assamite).
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Sydney Sewage Pumping Station number one: Known access to Nosferatu waiting room.
Tailor: Dominic’s Tailor who has a shop in Leichhardt
Tatiana Steponova: Met at SC by Stallion.
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
Tar- Anis: see Persephone.
The Prestiege: The speak for the four Tremere met at the Blavatsky Lodge.
The Twins: A pair of Tzimisce of Dominic’s acquaintance. The creators of Blanco Falzo the Dog??
The Woman: A powerful being of unknown name who kidnapped Izac and enchanted Rain. Lady Merritt
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Vida Goldstein: an Australian suffragette, originally interested in women and children welfare. Malkavian. Diablerised by Dominic.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation was the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Baali: A bloodline bent on keeping beings old before time from waking up and destroying everything. Eclipse and the Days of the Week are Baali.
Banu Haqim: Also know as Assamites, Assassins though sometimes just mercenaries for hire.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Brujah: One of the twelve clans of Cain.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Children of Osirus: Bloodline outside the Caine family tradition who practise Bardo, a discipline to control the beast. Izac’s current Bloodline.
Children of Seth: Bloodline the Prince is rumoured to be (originally?)
Clan or Bloodline: From one of the children of Caine or subsequent established lines of vampires.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Gangrel: A bloodline of vampire. Stallion’s Bloodline.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Giovanni: A vampire bloodline that keeps within genetic family ties. Dominic is a Giovanni.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kiasyd: Part of the La Sombre Clan.
Kin: Short for Kindred. Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Nagaraja: A bloodline that are obligated to eat the flesh as well as the blood of their victims.
Malkavian Time: a connections all Malkavian share to a greater network of knowledge and shared visions called the Madness Network
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
The Red List: a universal kill list of vampires. Maintained by the Camarilla, anyone on the list can be mudered without question.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
SchrekNet: A vampire only Internet.
The Theosophical Society: A private society of learning and tolerance based out of the Blavatsky Lodge, St. Leonards (https://sydney.theosophicalsociety.org.au)
Tremere Pyramid: A strict hierarchical structure that all Tremere are part of. Every member knows their place within the Pyramid. The antidiluvian, Tremere, sits at the top of this pyramid.Below him, the number seven is repeated through the clan’s structure.
Toreador: Bloodline of Vampire. Rain’s Bloodline.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Tzimisce: Bloodline of Vampire. Body sculptures.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
Writ of Retication: Lineage of a Vampire.
A Strange Life 