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Post by Eto on Jul 3, 2016 19:43:54 GMT
Eto walked the streets of Nagasaki, his cloak pulled tight over his shoulders, hiding the virtual arsenal of weapons he carried on him at all times in the city. Urakami Cathedral seemed to rise up from it's hollowed ground with what to the Assamite felt was far too haunting and menacing a presence than any church had ever had. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was walking into a trap. It was the madman after all, and still, even with his flawless memory, he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the giant from somewhere, and that more than anything not only bothered him, but set his curiosity off more than anything had in a very very long time.
Pushing past the monolithic hardwood doors, he'd walk up toward the alter, lighting one of the candles as is only right when entering a church. There were eyes on him, he could practically feel it. A stranger, dressed in garb from more than a century past, lighting candles in the church itself was a rather unusual sight. Somehow he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the room, to the church itself than ever met the eyes. Walking back toward the pews, the tireless mercenary sat down amidst the gathered church goers and waited.
Why would a madman want a church of all places to make his home? They were dangerous at the best of times, filled with zealots, willing to sacrifice themselves to a god they had never seen nor heard, at the words of men who claimed that they had, with no proof. Worse still, these were the first locations picked out in times of war for the wholesale slaughter of whatever denomination they followed. All he could do was shake his head. Still the mortals and immortals alike all seemed to float to these places, these damned churches and for what? That was a question he'd pondered for some time. It had been far too long since any of it made any sense. When would any of them learn that they couldn't escape their reality by hiding behind an idea that had no substance? Could they not just rely on their own skills? Eto shook his head watching and waiting, seeing if this place truly brought something to it's regulars.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Jul 3, 2016 19:49:49 GMT
As soon as he lit the candle, the darkness within the main chapel seemed to intensify, the moonlight not able to penetrate the swirling shadows. Curious eyes peered at him, the bodies within the pews seeming to wiggle and wane, the illusion shattering as a curios madman watched. What was this stranger doing in his home, a place few could brave? The air of madness was so thick, even the Kindred found it difficult to breathe without inhaling some of the lunacy known so intimately by the Malkavian Clan.
A priest left his cell, decorated in his religious garb, and entered the chapel through the rows of the chancel. He placed gloved fingers on the back of one pew, his human heart racing within his chest, nervousness clinging to him like a second skin. He stared at the red haired Kindred, able to recognize him as what he was only by the intoxicating smell of immortality. Like an addict, he began to sweat and crave, trying not to approach him too quickly.
"Welcome, lost child," he said, voice shaking as he stared at him, pupils dilated. He ran his tongue nervously along his lips in a vain attempt to chase away the dryness of withdrawal. "Have you come to speak with God?"
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Post by Eto on Jul 3, 2016 20:28:11 GMT
The sudden shift in the room was not lost on the mercenary, nor was the strange darkness that seemed to envelope the entire building. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the strange priest approached him. Was it the priest? No, it couldn't be the strange mortal that approached him. He didn't move like a vampire, didn't sound like one when he asked the mercenary about speaking to God. "I don't know whether or not your God exists father, so I cannot say." He responded, his ruby eyes turning toward the robed figure, his glasses sliding down his nose, those shining eyes obviously revealed to the strange religious man.
Eto's hands drifted down toward his hips, his fingers touching the grips of his scimitars in what the priest might see as a defensive stance, while the mercenary himself merely did so for a measure of comfort in the haunting cathedral. Why was the priest speaking to him of all creatures? What would possess him to seek out the one creature in the building who would happily end his life? Another shiver ran through the mercenary, something here was wrong, too wrong. A low growl seemed to resonate from his chest, not at all directed. Eto was uncomfortable, and though he didn't like it. He needed to know, needed to find out what it was that was missing from his almost flawless memory.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Jul 3, 2016 20:41:56 GMT
"Of course God exists," the priest said, straining to offer him something akin to a smile. It looked stretched thin on his face, the sweating more profuse than it had been moments before. He looked like a sow in the sun, his eyes darting nervously back and forth as he tried desperately to look at anything other than the monster before him. His addiction was a reminder that he was enslaved to the cursed beings whispered about at night, the monsters even his God feared. "And He has not forsaken you, despite what you might think."
Giving a shake of his head, he slowly approached, his steps loud in the quiet Cathedral. He knew that his Master remained entombed in the basement; he could feel his presence, heavy and thick, beckoning to him. It was a dangerous game this priest played. He took a deep breath as he struggled to steady himself, trying not to show this stranger any weakness. He feared being taken advantage of, like his Master had.
"God loves all of His children, even those cursed by His own hand." Like many of the Elders, Finn believed the legends of Caine and the curse, having met many of the Antidullivians himself. It only made sense that his ghouls would follow the same twisted beliefs. He liked order, after all, and if they thought they could free themselves, then chaos might interrupt his rituals. And that wouldn't be good for anybody.
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Post by Eto on Jul 3, 2016 21:24:13 GMT
Those ruby eyes narrowed on the priest with his sermon about being damned, being cursed by god, and more of this religious non-sense. Immediately Eto was in motion standing before the priest, scimitar drawn up to the man's throat. "Do not speak to me of being damned holy man." The tone the mercenary used left no room for argument. "I was never cursed by your god, never by your biblical reference of Caine. None of these creatures have ever existed in any but some addled bloody minds of old men seeking power. Keep me out of your bloody delusions." Fury washed over him, fury he held in such a tight hold was bleeding out of him, threatening the damn that held all that anger and rage back.
Eto wanted this man's life, wanted to spill his blood over his corrupt alter. "Will your bloody god save you from my blade holy man? Will he turn your skin to iron, keep my blade from tearing open your veins?" He growled, tempting the old man. "Go ahead, pray to your god, I'll give you that. Let you die as your god demands! A BLOODY MARTYR!" He roared at the holy man, the charlatan. His fangs extended obviously furious. Eto hated the discomfort of the Cathedral, and his normal response was and always would be rage, fury and violence. "PRAY HOLY MAN!" He roared at him again. God he needed to die, he needed to silence the holy man and his lies forever.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Jul 4, 2016 4:35:16 GMT
The priest seemed unbothered by the obvious threat, his eyes widening only in something akin to lust. So close, he could smell that power giving vitae rushing through his veins and it made him nearly weak with hunger. For so long, his master had denied him the strength that came with the monstrous act of feeding, keeping him desperate, and thus... keeping him loyal. He understood the twisted logic and often, that made him question his own sanity. If he understood the ramblings of a madman, was he not, in and of himself, mad?
"My God has blessed me with a Master," he said without hesitation, "and I know He, an extension of God himself, will protect me." There was no doubt in his lecture, a strange sort of smile appearing across his face as fingers made of shadow slowly slipped between the blade and the throat of the ghoul. If the Assamite tried to kill him, he would find inhuman resistance, keeping him from killing the priest.
"Now, now," a low Baritone murmured, amusement obvious in the disembodied voice. There was no attempt to attack, but the darkness in the unholy Cathedral darkened. "It is rude to come into one's home and threaten their pets."
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Post by Eto on Sept 6, 2016 15:50:05 GMT
Eto bared his fangs and growled at the disembodied voice. "Some test Finn?" Eto snarled, almost spitting the words as his scimitars seemed to almost magically return to their sheaths. The mercenary never did have a subtle bone in his body, at least not when it came to his own personal discomfort. "And you're pet is rather presumptuous and insulting." He growled, ruby eyes scanning the room for the source of the voice. He no longer cared for the priest, as the reason he was in the religious building itself seemed to be somewhere in the vicinity.
"I've come to make good on my agreement." He spoke to thin air as he moved away from the holy man. His ruby eyes alight with fury and barely controlled violence. "Where in the nine hells do I know you from, and why is it that I can't remember where and why I know you?" He growled those glowing eyes still searching for the madman himself. "Show yourself!" He growled at last, most certainly tired of the bloody charade that he seemed to be forced to take part in.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Sept 15, 2016 2:51:07 GMT
The string of questions only managed to make the giant lunatic laugh; the kind of coughing, manic laughter known to the Clan of madness. The shadows themselves seemed to shake like the belly of a jolly old man, the light once more dimming within the tall walls of the holy church. Finn made no outward appearance, his frame still completely hidden... or perhaps not there at all. The Lauden brothers were both well known for their ability to travel through different realms and worlds, controlling dimensions with ease. It was not far removed to think that Finn's tangible form resided somewhere else entirely.
"Which agreement do you come chasing after, Mister.... Vadia?" His voice purred, almost as if he were right behind the Assamite, a teasing illusion he did not expect the perceptive redhead to fall for. The trick was not there to see how gullible this man was, after all. That was a boring question that offered him very little entertainment or amusement; he would not waste effort on such a task.
However, the trick existed nonetheless. It did not fit well into the unnatural intelligence of Findero Lauden to waste such a movement, though its purpose was far from apparent, confuddled by the fact that it repeated. From just to one side, as if he were standing only a few feet away, just outside of direct line of sight, the low voice rumbled once more. 'What has you so... worked up? You come into my domain as a guest, now, Eto.... Please, do make yourself a little more... comfortable."
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Post by Eto on Sept 23, 2016 9:36:09 GMT
The mercenary took a few slow deep breaths as he closed his eyes, focusing himself. The priest had infuriated him. Talk of God's and religion often had that effect on the ruthless fiery haired vampire. "My mind for my loyalty, and to converse with you. I was told you were the one that would search my mind by the criteria given to your prince, and you'd follow all of the rules given to do so. I wanted to get that out of the way and see if you'd be willing to discuss where from and why I know you." He finished stepping towards the dias once more.
He knew Finn wasn't near him. Knew it simply because it was instinct. Where he was however remained a mystery, most creatures he'd dealt with could project their voices, an excellent tactic when dealing with the normal easily distracted rabble. Eto didn't like it, but it was Finn's home, therefore Finn's game by Finn's rules. "Now show yourself madman. In whatever form you like." Eto offered, those glowing ruby eyes scanning the room, the area, darkness aside for the location of his host.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Sept 23, 2016 19:42:11 GMT
A soft, amused chuckle echoed off the walls from some disembodied source, like a whisper just within the range of the Kindred's sensitive hearing, teasing poor Eto mercilessly as he openly requested the physical presence of the madman. Finn was rarely fond of giving in to the whims of others, enjoying the meaningless rebellion that so often put people on edge. The discomfort often made them foolish, brash, and that was entertaining.
The world, after all, was merely a stage, and the people actors against their will. Finn enjoyed making them dance out whatever number he had managed to choreograph of his ever-developing whim. Even if they didn't want to partake, the eggplant haired lunatic had his ways... his persuasions.
"Ah, yes," the deep, rumbling baritone murmured, like a cat's content purr. "I had almost forgotten... The Prince and her lovely deal, isn't that right? For some reason, she wishes to assess the validity of the provided information." Once more, there was that sound of mirth and amusement, a roaring chuckle that came from nowhere and everywhere, all at once.
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