The Masquerade A Midnight Song

Kathryn growled with every drop of blood spilt, firing on the intruders with unnatural speed whenever she could ne sure she would not hit her ally.

Her precious floor and walls were getting so dirty! And her dear paintings and tapestries, she didn't even want to see the damage they might have suffered!

She could hear her Ghouls engaging the fight as well, something that appeased her for a while thinking that maybe it would all be over soon.

But then she heard the sound of marble shattering in the corridor.

"My poor Hestia!" She wailed, and her expression changed from irritation to mindless fury. "Oh, you're going to pay!" Growling, she discarded her rifle and instead withdrew a very nasty, very powerful modified shotgun from her hideout. The red haze of frenzy invaded her mind.

"DIE!!"
 
Salazar heard a boom of a shotgun sounding. Salazar felt pain shoot through his back as he took a silver ball that had gone wide. "Check your Fire Damn'it " Salazar said as he felt blood pouring down his leg. Looking over his shoulder He saw that Kathryn was no longer in her right mind.
Salazar picked up a discarded nineteen eleven and poked his head out the now clear door. Only to see an object come flying down the hall and into the living room. Salazar only had moments to act. But it seemed like he had all the time in the world. It was a light grenade he had made the out by the opening sides as it flew through the air. Looking over his shoulder he saw Kathryn and made the call.
Calling on all his supernatural speed. He moved across the room. Tackling her and kicking the legs off the music stand as the room was filled with bright UV light. Salazar did what he could to shield her as his back was quickly burned to a crisp. The music stands now laying between them and the grenade. Salazar knew he had a new problem, that one being a fifty-seven kilogram ball of rage and hate. And Salazar was holding her down. His cutlass forgotten on the floor and the pistol tucked in his pants. Salazar was not a religious man by any account but he prayed.
 
Something was preventing her from ending the miserable wretches that had wronged her. Something her nose was not identifying as an ally.

An enemy, then.

Snarling, she thrashed and scratched and bit, kicking and punching as best as she could while in a vice like hold.

Cursing her weakness, she drew on her rage and speed to increase the intensity of her assault, doing her very best to eliminate this threat before dealing with the others.

Her sharp canines latched into a strong shoulder, and she bit deep and thrashed even more, trying to escape her prison.
 
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Salazar let go, cursing in a way that only a sailor can. He gripped his shoulder. He moved drawing his pistol and firing. He was not a good shot, But he did his part. The gun barked at more men pushed through the door. To mop up what was left of them. Then Salazar heard the sound of gunshots. In the upper floors, his friends had pushed through into the building. Climbing to his feet as the men were still backpedaling Salazar rubbed a thumb over his bloody shoulder. And across a tattoo on his arm. It was a simple magic a friend had given him. In fact, it was his first tattoo.
A red portal formed and two cutlasses fell from it Salazar scooped them up as he made a mad dash to hold the door. The cutlass in each hand was different from the one he had held before. One had complex symbols on it and the silver inlay was coated with a thin layer of frost the. While the one in his other hand was worn and chipped showing years of use. He cut down the few men blocking his way to the door. He hoped the Inraged Kathryn would mop up the few that he did not have the time to get to. Salazar's back ached as he worked his blades back and forth in long sweeping movements.
It took Salazar a moment to realize the laughter he was hearing was coming from himself. It had been ages since he had a good fight. While not one of them could stand against him for long. The sheer number of them was the challenge. There was a pain in his back, turning Salazar cut down another man with a backhand stroke. Not noticing the combat knife that was deep into his back. He turned back to his bloody work.
 
The enemy had let her go. Satisfied with that, her rage was once again directed at those who were invading and destroying her domain.

Once again grabbing the fallen shotgun, she shot at anything that moved toward her, and stomped on their fallen bodies with her sharp high heels for good measure.

Snarling and growling all the while, she resorted to whacking her opponents with her shotgun with all her rage-fueled strength, and shooting them point blank when all that did was irritate them.

By then, her dress was utterly ruined, her hair had been freed from its jeweled constraints and now hung, wild and dirty all over her face and back, and she had minor injuries littering her body from head to toe, but none of that mattered.

The most important thing was to destroy these enemies until she could bathe on their ashes and blood.
 
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The TVR screeched to a halt outside of the Keepers sanctuary as Marcus emerged from within it, the G-36 ripped into and through a handful of attackers emerging from a white van, at seven hundred and fifty rounds a minute it took all of eight seconds for Marcus to burn through the first 100 round C-mag. "I AM THE LAW!" Marcus roared as the music changed in the TVR, blaring loudly. He tapped into the power of his inherent dementation to spread the voices of madness into as many attackers as he could reach to instill in their minds a deep seated fear as he started singing along with the song while changing to burst fire with the G-36.

"THEN IT COMES TO ME THAT THE SOOTHING LIGHT AT THE END OF YOUR TUNNEL IS A FREIGHT TRAIN COMING YOUR WAY!" Punctuating each word with a burst of fire as he aimed for the breach. "CHOO CHOO MOTHERFUCKERS!" ... a little adlib never hurt.

Suddenly lead plucked at his right sleeve and he looked down where the silver slug had brushed past followed closely by another. A young man with an UZI looked down at his suddenly empty weapon.

"You. Motherfucker. That was my favourite shirt this week."
 
Salazar pushed into the hallway. By this point they had caught on and were all holding back up silver sog knives. There guns not fairing so well in the cramped kill box. Salazar had made he spun like a dancer his blades extended. Calling on his speed. He picked up the pace. Ducking lashing out his blades little more than shimmers in the air. He pushed toward the stares careful not to do any more damage to the art. Taking the blood spray on his own clothing and skin rather than letting it mar the art. Even with the handicap, it was over in a half a minute All of the inturders that had made it in the hall where now dead. Sighing with exostion, Salazar sat on a corpce and shook out a ciggarette and lit it with a stike anyware match. He used the wall and inhaled. Still not noticing the knife sticking out of his back.
 
Nothing else was moving in the living room.

The haze of frenzy started to dissipate from her mind, leaving her breathing deeply, contemplating the destruction around her.

Damn, she was thirsty. And her dress was a wreck. And her favourite Louboutins were completely ruined. And by all that was holy, her hair looked disgusting!

She looked around, cringing at the filth covered walls and floor, the bullet holes, and god, her sound system had been rendered completely useless.

Then she spotted her harp in two pieces.

And her rampage resumed, but this time her mind couldn't be clearer: she might hate violence, but that didn't mean she couldn't use it.

Reloading her shotgun, she left the living room and stomped down the corridor, maiming the broken and dead bodies with every step and shooting at everything that so much as twitched.

"You have a knife sticking out of your ribs." She informed her guest as she passed him, not even stopping, following the sounds of gunshots from above.
 
"Oh thanks, " Salazar said pulling it free. He got to his feet using his cutlasses as a cane. "By the way, i would like to apologize about the start. I can pay for the damage, But we need cover rather quickly." Salazar grimaced as he removed his burned vest and shirt under it. Exposing the mass of burned skin from the back of his neck to his silk pantaloons. And the scars on his lean chest. The bullet holes still leaking from the few shots he had taken. The bite mark just now starting to close.
Then ramming his batter cutlass into a corpse. To hold it straight up Salazar reached down and fished the flask out of the ruined vest. Lengthening is stride to catch up, Salazar took a long pull blood staining his lips and chin he held it out to the keeper. Looking up at the sound of gunfire from the upper level. Salazar smiled a slightly manic grin. "Shall we join the party upstairs, No offense but it seems rather dead down here now"
 
She took a few sips from the flask, feeling her thirst abate a little and some of her own wounds starting to heal. "Please, by all means, lead on." She invited, with a slightly manic grin. "And to pay for the damages, I think you know what kind of gifts I like." She winked at him and reloaded her shotgun with an eager efficiency.
 
Salazar laughed a booming pirate laugh. "gifts indeed do you like hearts or heads ? " Salazar said as he started to climb the stairs. Spitting out his smoke on the floor and grinding it out on the tile. Rolling his head from side to side Salazar figured he had maybe two more combats left in him. Before he would have to fall into a frenzy to keep fighting past his limits.
Salazar closed his eyes for a moment his ears barely picking out the sound of two heartbeats at the top of the stairs. Without thinking he fell into boarding sign language. 'two humans, you take left ill take right. Not sure if clear' Salazar signed. As he moved up the stairs his footsteps barely a whisper on stone.
 
Kathryn grabbed his shoulder to stop him. "I didn't understand whatever you just said." She mouthed. "The Queen's English, please?"
 
Having climbed up on top of the van and spotting the breaching location Marcus had forced his way in nearly twisting the head off of one as he entered the top floor he tapped into the auspex discipline and saw the last two survivors of the attackers waiting near the top of the stairwell, one with an uzi, the other with an M249.

Marcus swaggered up behind them and forced himself to use the inside voice. "Hey guys. What are we waiting for?"

One of them jumped a little, the other didn't turn at all.

"Shh. They... WOAAAAH" Marcus' boot slammed into the inattentive mans spine booting him out over the stairs.

"LOOK BEFORE YOU LEAP!" Marcus turned and ripped the submachinegun from the hand of the other one while pointing his weapon at the humans stomach. "As for you... I BELIEVE WE HAVE SOME TALKING TO DO."
 
Kathryn blinked at the human who had just landed face first at her feet.

"A present!" She declared, excited, and hollered up the stairs. "Thank you, my dear Sheriff!"

Crouching over the unconscious man, she sank her fangs on his neck and drained some of his blood, taking care to leave most of it for her injured companion.

"There you go." She jumped to her feet, raising the human with one hand by his collar and offering him to Salazar, before ascending the stairs. "Marcus has already taken care of the rest, I'm going to see what other gifts he has for me."
 
Salazar took the poor soul. "This is not how i normally do this. And i apologize for that." With that said he sank his teeth into his exposed neck. Feeling his wounds mend and the spring come back into his step. As Salazar drank deep he felt the burns on his skin fade exposing the lash scars. Finishing he pulled away and with an expert twist broke the man's neck keeping the movement going Salazar pulled the man's head clean off.
Salazar was still unsure of the safety of this place kept pace with The Keeper acting as bodyguard.
 
Kathryn ascended the stairs with confident steps, assured of the Sheriff's competence. As a courtesy to her guest's endearing paranoia, however, she kept a sedate pace, allowing him to assuage his fears by guarding her.

On arriving upstairs, she found the Malkavian looming threateningly over a disarmed human, and pointing a vicious looking weapon at him.

"Good evening, Marcus. I hope you had as much fun as we did." She greeted her fellow Camarilla with a bright smile.
 
Marcus grinned, marginally, as he kept his weapon trained on the helpless human. "It was all fun and games until one of his fellows outside plucked a couple holes in my favourite shirt." He didn't bother pointing out it was 'this weeks' favourite shirt. He changed his favourite clothes at least that often. Tapping deeply into the power of Malkav he reached into the humans mind and suppressed his will, in the hopes of opening him up to suggestion. He felt the thirst grow as he expended his power, he would need to feed soon.

A trip to buy a bag of blueblood would be necessary.

"Who. Sent. You." He asked as he turned to the captive.


@Diabolique
 
Salazar smiled at both of them. he was quite entertained by the Sheriff use of his power. He also made a note of the power. He was gathering useful information on the people he would be climbing into bed with. Salazar reached into his pocket pulling out his pack of smokes. He shook one out and lit one with a snap of his fingers. He forgot to keep that side of his power hidden. Leaning back on the wall he crossed his tattooed arms over his scarred chest. The largest one started from the bottom of his neck. And ended just above the opposite hip.

Then Salazar perked up as the mortal was being dominated. " According to my information. The malcontents sent this force. To test The Lady Keepers defences. Though the attack time was not specified in my documents." Salazar said calmly his smoke waggling as he spoke holing it in his mouth.
 
Alex had still been in slumber, having not been woken this evening. He was still rather furious from previous events at Elysium… events which he still felt were unresolved. After donning a fine suit, as was most often the case, Alexander set out to give his Domain some much needed love and attention. He checked his phone as he made it to the door of his sleeping quarters at the bank, then summoned his Human servant. The man could not have come fast enough, being entirely thralled by Alex’s vampiric blood. “Edward, we need to get to Elysium. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!? Why isn’t anyone DOING THEIR JOB?” His voice boomed, echoed around him almost in a Marcus-esque fashion within the vaulted ceiling, then he gathered his composure. It wasn’t long before the driver was screeching through the streets of London, en route to the Cathedral grounds that was Elysium.

The driver stopped outside of the grounds, to which Alexander now saw in disarray. “Gather all of the ghouls, and have them expedite their way here. This needs to be cleaned off. Have the Tremere Primogen issue command for illusory magic. The public cannot see this. They cannot hear this. They cannot believe this to be real. Masquerade is the top priority. Now go. I will call for you when I need you.” With that, he approached the cathedral. As he entered, he saw a Human that still yet drew breath. Expending a bit of his own blood essence, he made direct eye contact and the Human who was reaching for his weapon stopped moving. Overcome with immense fear, the Human began cowering. He was reaching a near catatonic state by the time Alex’s hand graced his cheek. With the passing of his fingers over the man’s cheek, Alex gripped the mortal’s chin, then thrust him down, flattening the entirety of his skull.

“Marcus… Lady Keeper… would one of you mind explaining to me just why in the hell this Cathedral is in this state? Do you not realize that THIS is Elysium? That THIS is neutral ground. That THIS is on the very verge of breaking the Masquerade that we so desperately try to maintain.” Alex had not noticed the third Vampire, focusing more on the two that he now eyed with fury and confusion. There was no power to his glance, only a shift in his demeanor. Typically, he was calm, cool, collected. The very act of killing the Human in the way that he did was the polar opposite of his natural personality. He was obviously not in a very good mood, having read the earlier message of a ‘Code Blue’.
 
Seeing the Prince in such an altered state, Kathryn laid a delicate hand on his arm, squeezing softly.

"My Prince, I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but unfortunately it is not so." She started, her usual contralto low and soothing. "Mr. Grim here," she pointed at her guest, "came to request a meeting with you regarding new information he found about the Anarchs. We were in the process of discussing it when a large group of humans attacked the Heart of Elysium." Her expression soured. "I immediately contacted you and the esteemed Sheriff, as protocol dictates, but in the skirmish, some of my most precious possessions were destroyed. I'm ashamed to admit my reaction to that was not the most rational." She lowered her head in repentance. "We had all just finished subduing the attackers when you arrived, and Mr. Grim was telling us that I am among the Anarchs' next targets."
 
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