NationStates Jolt Archive

Las Vegas had had the moniker of 'Sin City' for some time before vampiric influence had begun to filter in. Amidst the range of greed-fueled murders & high-stakes robberies, people had never thought to report the strange pucture wounds they found on their necks after a night of hard drinking & leaving with a stranger.

Gothically-themed raver clubs had sprung up in the newer parts of town, and mysterious blood-banks had opened their doors... Two signs of vampiric occupation to the trained eye. Things had been going surprisingly well for the presiding 'Prince' and his court of vampiric peers & ghoul servants.

Without warning or any hint of trouble, communitcation between the main vampiric council in New York & the up-and-coming coven in Las Vegas ceased completely. Fearing the worst, agents where dispatched to look into things... They, too, vanished without a trace.

The suspicion & powerstruggles within the central council that had raged for so many decades eventually doomed the investigation, as it had many others, and Las Vegas was forgotten by the established vampiric hierarchy...

It hadn't been forgotten by those few who had kept a low profile in the city itself, watching as friends, and masters in some cases, suddenly dropped off the radar...

OOC: I'll let those who posted in the AV Spin-Off planning thread add their posts before going any further.

OOC: Tag!

Jackson Davis was one of those who'd lost both a friend & a so-called 'master' during the rash of mysterious murders...

They'd come in the night, when he was asleep. Grenades he'd used back in the Special Forces for destroying electrical equipment crashed through the windows of the home he shared with the female vampire who'd made him what he was: A ghoul. A human with vampiric blood in his veins.

The grenades exploded, showering the bedroom in a sheet of flame. Reflex and instict had taken over long before hand. Jackson had been up and out of bed, rolling into the hallway screaming for her to get out of the house. Berretta 92 in hand, he charged up the hallway to her room, kicking in the door to find his beloved mistress headless on the floor. Three rounds later the assassin joined her, slumped at the bottom of a crimson smear against the wall. A round caught him in the back, doing little more than getting his attention. Another three-round triple-tap dealt with the second man. Jackson grabbed one of the incindiary grenades from the man's web-gear & tossed it into his mistress' room. The fires would eliminate any evidence that she hadn't been human, as vampiric flesh burned very easily.

Boiling with anger & bleeding from the gunshot wound in his back, he jumped on his Suzuki Hayabusa that had been parked in the driveway & sped off into the night clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts...

That had been a week ago, and he'd been on the run ever since. He was now in a bar on the rougher end of town. He'd been avoiding the raver clubs where others like his late mistress usually came to unwind & feed, as they where likely targets for the bastards that had attacked them in the night. For now, he'd have to bide his time, hoping someone would find him. He was already feeling the pull of the vampiric blood within him, the craving for more of it to stay in his enhanced state...

James sprinted across the rooftop as his target jumped straight across the gap between this building and another. The lycan climbed up the flashing lights of a casino sign and turned to look at James with a taunting look across his face.

"Shit!" cursed James as he picked up speed. He reached the edge of the rooftop and jumped over the gap and landed on the lower buiding with a roll. He jumped to his feet with a pair of Berrettas in his hands. He glanced up at the lights, already guessing that the lycan had moved else where.

"Let's not play hide and seek, monsiuer Micah," said James, addressing the French lycan by his name. "You've done some pretty bad things this time, enough to get me ten grand..." James listened intently to the sounds around him, using his experienced ears to try and pick out the sounds that could link to the lycan.

The sound of a small drop liquid hitting the rooftop was hear behind him. James turned and fired his pistols. The lycan staggered backwards, his body shaking as the silver bullets pierced his chest. The wolf-like creature collapsed to the ground. Its appearance changed to that of a rather scrawny looking human.

James knelt beside the corpse's head and pulled out the picture he was given of the man and from the face to the picture. "Yep, your Micah alright. Sorry Frenchy, but you made a mistake by sticking around...."

James pulled out a prepared piece of tape and used it to get a fingerprint from the dead lycan. He stood and tucked his Berrettas away then walked towards the fire escape.

He sighed as he made his way down the metal staircase. It wasn't that he hated the lycans, vampires, hell, he was about out of wack himself with a newly discovered psychic ability, but when he ever found a bounty poster for a rather mean creature of the dark, he would take it; but if the bounty was for a vampire who had done nothing wrong but been a vampire that only feasted on the dirtbags of the city, he really just left it alone...But ghouls, no, he hated ghouls, despised them, those who sold their souls for a power, nah, not his type...

((See, he's a morally right bounty hunter....sort of... :D ))

Jackson mentally ticked off the days he had left before he was normal again... The Army Special Forces, or the 'Green Berets' as they where better known, had forged him into something more than normal. The added ability to take a round or two & keep going, thanks to the vamp blood, enhanced him further...

The only real downside was that the blood was like heroin, an addiction after the third dose that he'd found it nearly impossible to shake. Jackson had never been much of a reefer-head in highschool, but he'd tried it out. Cocaine was something he'd never touched, much less anything harder. The hunger for her blood was similar to the hunger she had for his, his mistress had said after his third dose. He'd been her right hand, her constant companion, and her protector.

At first he'd thought the attack was ordered by higher-ups on the vampiric ladder because of the relationship Jackson had shared with his mistress & ghoul-sire... Hungry for revenge, he'd sought out the council members he knew of, and found them all dead. Something else was amiss, but without more vamp blood to keep him above the top of his game, there was only so much he could do...

Jazz was angry, and when Jazz was angry the Mundane world never knew it, but the Hidden World trembled....She strode down the steps of her Gulfstream V snapping orders left and right. She'd been away too long, dealing with problems in the Big easy, and look what had happened while she was away...utter chaos!

"Jeremy, get me the information quickly. One hysterical call on the cel may not mean much but Helene has always been reliable before"

The tall patrician ex Brit, her ghoul since WWII, nodded his head and with swift strides headed for the bronze Range Rover, one of three cars that awaited the small group.

"Kai, hit all the places where the ghouls gather. Pass the word, that if they want to continue ...living...to be at the penthouse before dawn. Tell them...tell them that if they had anything to do with this they'll wish they'd died."

He knows that information will bring them continued life, for at least a little while. I can be compassionate, but I am seldom merciful. And if the nearly hysterical call I had gotten was correct, there would be no mercy. He had once been samurai and was my chief protector. However if the report was correct, I would need more and perhaps among the masterless ghouls a few good men could be found.

The midnight blue Mercedez SLR McLaren bleeped softly as Kai triggered the entry sensor and slid inside after favoring Jazz with a look that said she had better be careful. The tiniest of nods had him smiling grimly as he drove away

Marche, her companion since her time as Louis Quatorze spy mistress, settled Jazz in the luxury of the back seat then started up the classic Rolls Royce Silver Cloud Esther, her maid was already in the front passenger seat, checking in to make sure that her penthouse in the Luxor was ready

Few knew it but she owned the top ten floors of that pyramid shaped hotel, her private room being directly beneath the 'brightest beam of light in the world'. It suited her sense of drama

Jazz had been perfectly happy being the power behind the throne of the Prince. Being Prince would have just been too much time and trouble...but now ..'No I damn well will not take the throne, but I will decide who sits on it!' Her anger welled again. Some one or something had not just decimated, but totally anilhated all the vampires in the city that had held any real power. And that was no mean feat. It took planning, resources, information, and a set of titanium balls humans generally didn't have.

Jazz intended to find then and teach them the very fatal error of their ways

Marche opend the Rolls's door for Jazz, then bustled around to hold open the door to the blood bank. The moment the front desk attendant recognized who had entered he paled and buzzed for the manager instantly. The manager was a florid woman, heavy set, and imposing in a severe business suite. However her manner was fawning as she all but bowed to Jazz.

"How may I be of service?"

"This is the central office for the entire system here in Vegas?" Despite the questioning lilt in Jazz's voice, it was not a question and both knew it. The manager barely had a chance to nod before Jazz continued.

"Close your doors this instant and I wish every other blood bank in the system shut down within the hour. Any one approaching you for a sale or barter must be told to contact me for approval. I will have security here, and at every station in the system, with in thirty minutes to enforce that...and the enforcement, if needed, shall be lethal."

It would be sooner than that, as she had contacted her forces during the drive to the primary location. The man power necessary would leave her less secure at her personal holdings than Kai would be happy with, but that did not matter at this point. Jeremy had already been able to report that the basic facts were correct.

Some one(s) had managed to slaughter every vampire of any power in Las Vegas, and Jazz was certain that she would have been targeted if she had been present...or was better known of. Anonymity did have certain benefits.

"Stay your shifts, keep the schedule as if nothing has changed, save that pickups and deliveries are of course suspended. If it's asked, just say it is a management decission. Contact my people if any thing unusual arrises"

With that she was back out the door and Marche opening the Rolls's door in less than five minutes. They would be in her secure, private parking garage level beneath the Luxor in less than twenty minutes, even given the congested nature of traffic along the world famous Vegas Strip.

Kai strode out of the Raver club, his Japanese features carefully blank. He despised such places, and he sincerely doubted that any ghouls found at such clubs would be usefull to his mistress. His next destination was a few doors down. One of the pathetic ghouls there had mentioned seeing Jackson Davis at the leather bar.

Jackson Davis was one of the few local ghouls Kai had bothered to get to know on any other basis other than the contents of a dossier. The ex-spec op warrior had earned his respect on the gun range. IF he was there then his vampiric mistress had fallen along with so many others. He'd gladly intorduce Jackson to Jazz, he'd make an excellent recruit

He entered the bar, and his observant eyes quickly picked up the other ghoul sitting alone in a back corner. With the gliding movements of one well versed in the martial arts he made his way over to where Jackson sat

"Jackson- san, I am sorry to hear of your loss. You will want vengance, neh? Come with me, Jazz has need of your skills"

Jackson barely turned to look at the man addressing him, the dim light of the seedy bar glimmering faintly off of the matte-black finish of the 9mm barely visible under the unzipped Shift-brand riding jacket he'd bought the day before...

"I'm not a musician. I think you've got the wrong guy..."

Davis found it odd that this asian guy knew his name, but the loss thing was something anyone could have picked up on from the look on his face...

"If you'll excuse me, I've got some drinking to do..."

It had become a habit of his since becoming a ghoul to not trust anyone any farther than he could throw them, even with the strength boost offered by his new abilities. He kept a hand near the semi-automatic that was wedged in the waistband of his jeans, unsure of whether or not this bastard was one of the genocidal morons that had wasted his mistress...

OOC:
Mind if I join?
Sort of add something new to the vampire thing, eh?

OOC:
Mind if I join?
Sort of add something new to the vampire thing, eh?

OOC: There's a sign-up thread you should post in first. Enter my name into the 'search' menu & scroll around until you find it (AV Spin-off Brainstorming thread). Then add a character description & I'll evaluate it shortly afterwards.

Kai's voice went hard. He could see Jackson's grief clearly, and pistol...Jackson should recognize him from meetings, casual and in passing though the meetings were, at various ranges, and the better arms dealers.

"Get out of the damn bottle, look at me. You know who I am, and I'm not looking for a musician."

Kai paused for a moment

"If you want to drink yourself to death for lack of a drink...."

He turned to go, for if Davis was that far gone he was no use to any one. he had other places to go scouring the city for any other ghouls left alive after the viscous attacks

Elsw where Jeremy listened carefully to the frightened voice of an all but fledgeling vampiress. She had nearly attacked him before she recognised him and how huddled in his arms, her recital of what she had wittnessed barely understandable betwen sobs and hiccups.[/i]

Eventually she had calmed and gladly agreed to accompany him to Jazz's headquarters. Most of the younger vampires knew only of Jazz and her fearsome reputation, but any one as powerful as she would make a welcome protector in times like these. She was even happier to find her two best friends ensconsed in the luxurious rear seat of the bronze Range Rover.

Marche and Ester set about making certain everything was in readiness for the expected callers, while Jazz's private security made sure that the Luxor was even more secure than usual...afterr their previous chief found himself unexpectedly with out a job, and a life, for not reporting the attacks to Jazz in a timely manner.

"You know full well that I should have been called about that. Now we have lost invaluable time...and you have just lost all time"

Her comment before she fed thoroughly. His body would be transported to the secrete sub basement and drained of any remaining blood and the corpse disposed of. The local were's would appreciate the donation...after the various teltale of identity were removed - soles of the feet, palms and fingertips of the hands, eyes, teeth, hair, and assorted scars and tattoos...Jazz paid well to make sure her staff were through and professional.

James sat in his hotel room, sitting on his bed with the television providing the only light as he counted his money. Twenty grand in cash, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of all the dough. Mostly gained from the kills he had made recently, a lycan and a vampire, all in Vegas. Things seemed to be heating up, more and more of the....unnatural beings becoming more and more noticed in the City.

He glanced at the nightstand as he cell phone vibrated with a new call. He picked up and glanced at the number. Uknown Name, Unknown Number. He thought a moment. Could be a new job...He laughed, he was becoming more and more of a hitman than a bounty hunter. He flipped open the phone.

"This is James," he said.

"Yes, that much I know," answered a cold, almost distant and whispery voice. "Along with other things...."

James nodded, typical customer. "You called for a reason?" James knelt over the nightstand and picked up his Berretta, popping in another clip. He cocked it and aimed at the light before slipping it into a holster at his side across from his other pistol.

"Yes, I undertand you provide the...services we are in need of," said the voice.

"I can do certain jobs, but who's 'we'?"asked James.

"Meet me at the Lucky Night Casino and Bar in at least thirty minutes, I have a proposition that would attract you interest."

James closed his phone as the other end clicked off...

The quiet of the basement room was hard and cold, much the like the silver-edged kukri knife against her throat. The hand in her hair was clawed & scaly, pulling harshly on her raven locks...

"Your kind have always been a preferred target of my lighter brethren... This should be nothing new..."

The young man across from her growled & attempted to dive towards the captor & captive as he shrugged off the two black-garbed hunters at either side of him, but four silver-jacketed hollow-point forty-five caliber subsonic rounds tore into his chest & sent him face-first to the floor. The girl started to scream, but was cut short by a slicing pain in her neck...

"Now, now... We can't have you waking the dead... You Brujah always where too impulsive for your own good..."

The sick joke brought a few chuckles from the gathered hunters, and a sadistic grin from the one holding the surpressed Glock in the corner, a thin tendril of smoke rising from the silencer's end...

"You don't know why you're here, or why he just shot your boyfriend, or why I've got a large knife against your throat, but if you think hard enough, you'll understand. In fact, I'll just go ahead & tell you: You're a fucking vampire, a filthy satanic lapdog with a hunger for human blood..."

The pistol-wielding hunter moved forward & shot the corpse in the back of the head a few more times, more out of malice than any assurance that the vampire male was deceased, or as dead as the dead can be. The girl silently began to sob...

"He's not going to shoot you, you're going to send a message to the others of you kind in this city. We want them gone, as soon as inhumanly possible. The Quiet Butcher is in town, and he's set up shop..."

The blade moved from her throat, then came whistling back in a quick blow that removed her head from her shoulders. One of the hunters snapped a quick polaroid of her face, then another of the bloody scene in the small basement room, catching both of the vampire corpses in the shot. It would be taken to a vamp-owned raver club & left as a calling card for future acts of brutality...

"Clean up the brass & let's get going... All this talking has made me thirsty..."

Another, clearly a second to the knife-wielder, spoke up...

"Didn't the boss say we're meeting a new guy at the Lucky Night?"

The group's leader nodded, running the bloody blade across his tongue, feeling the slight rush of power that came with the vampiric vitae...

"Indeed. Why don't we drop by for a drink?"

There was a chorus of laughter as they exited the basement, chucking an incindiary grenade in behind them & slamming the door...

'Lack of a drink?'

Jackson knew this guy, if only faintly... He'd been at the vamp-sponsored shooting ranges & a few of the black-market back-room arms deals he'd had to use to stay current with his hardware, since the US Army didn't exactly have a mail-order catalog... Davis left a few bucks in his booth & followed the man out...

"All right, man... I don't work for those Nosferatu bastards, but that's my only condition..."

Kai used the remote to click the doors of the midnight blue Mercedez SLR McLaren unlocked and to turn the motor over. Waiting until they were both in the car, he lifted the sunglasses that hid his eyes, and gave Jackson a withering glare

"Hachimans tail! First peice of advice -You'd better not insult Jazz like that to her face. Second - Watch your language, she's a lady...and I don't appreciate you speaking about her like that"

The cold look in his eyes said that Jackson's life was definitely not all that valuable to him

James sat at the bar of the Lucky Night Casino and Bar, sipping his scotch. He glanced around the bar for who would want to meet him at such a public place. He could feel something unnatural in the air around him, a certain gift he had since he found out about his own....ability. James finished his drink.

"Hey, barkeep, need a refill," he said roughly. He put another five on the table as the bar tender refilled his glass. He took a sip and scanned the room. So many people were entering and exiting at once it was hard to pick out faces...A bit too hard.

"If this is a trap, they picked one hell of a spot...This better be a good deal..." muttered James over his glass. He held a hand in his jacket casually, though holding his Berretta...

A small group entered, clad mainly in fatigue pants & hooded sweatshirts as dark as the night they emerged from, one had the hood of his garment pulled up over his head & wore gloves to hide his hands. He walked in an uncomfortable-looking fashion, as if one of his legs where stiff.

They made their way to the bar in a rather rude manner, knocking into those who wouldn't get out of their way & glaring down those who took offense. The hooded one with the oddly thick leg that he kept stiff ordered the drinks in a stony voice, then paid the barkeep with a pair of twenty dollar bills & a request to keep the change.

One of the hunters spotted James (Wrong RP!) sipping his drink at the bar, and motioned for three of the others to contact him. Three ambled over, taking pulls from a variety of beers as they moved...

"You that hunter guy?"

The second-in-charge asked, his voice raised to be heard over the background roar of the casino... The noise also had the side benefit of nullifying shotgun microphones & other listening devices...

Kai used the remote to click the doors of the midnight blue Mercedez SLR McLaren unlocked and to turn the motor over. Waiting until they were both in the car, he lifted the sunglasses that hid his eyes, and gave Jackson a withering glare

"Hachimans tail! First peice of advice -You'd better not insult Jazz like that to her face. Second - Watch your language, she's a lady...and I don't appreciate you speaking about her like that"

The cold look in his eyes said that Jackson's life was definitely not all that valuable to him

Jackson knew that look a little too well... He'd seen it before he went into Mogadishu that fateful day, then ran back out. He'd been part of CAG back then, known as Delta Force, before reverting back to Green Beret status as the group changed names. He was used to his life meaning nothing, Hell, it meant nothing now, even to him...

"So she's a Nosferatu... At least she's a 'she'..."

He looked out the back window as they drove off...

"And what the fuck am I going to do about my bike? That thing cost me close to fifteen hundred bucks, not to mention the mods I put on it..."

Kai shook his head "Jazz is no sewer rat, no mishapen. Here..."

He tossed Jackson a cel phone

"Speed dial 14 and tell them where your bike is. It will be trailered to a secure location, kept safe and sound till you pick it up."

He looked closely at Jackson

"Look, I know you're hurting, but would your lady want to see you like this? She had to see something special in you to take the trouble to make you one of us. You weren't a casual thing to her....Well you won't be a casual thing to Jazz either. She takes care of her people....and she can give you the vengance you crave"

He was cautiously tense, half expecting to have Jackson attack him

The rain had stopped, and the neon casino signs and streetlights were reflected in the slightly acidic water. Drunken singing echoed from the entrance of a nightclub. It was nearly kicking-out time, so the revellers were partying even harder. An occasional open topped car cruised past, hugging the pavement, the young men and women viewing the world through protective lenses of alchohol. In the darker areas, prostitutes plyed their trade, hiding from the eyes of the police while still trying to attract the gaze of the public. They walked a knife-edge, selling themselves for a wrap of dubious heroin. The city operated under a veneer of seediness, but at the same time it was a legend, a great temple to the nation that spawned it. The truth was darker. Much darker.

A dark grey Honda motorbike moved almost unnoticed through the almost tangible atmosphere of corruption. The engine was running slowly, almost idling, and the combination of that and the mufflers made it run almost silently. The puddles lapped around dusty wheels, cleansing them of a day of hard riding. Bulging panniers hung off the sides. The rider looked around, his visor hiding his face from inspection. His movements carried a purposeful air, almost as if he was looking for something. And indeed he was.

Apollo wasn't a gambler, and drink he could find anywhere. The only reason that he had rode into Las Vegas was his quest.

When Satan was cast down from Heaven, he landed on Las Vegas.

He smiled at the thought, although it did not amuse him. It was probably all too true.

Most people came to Las Vegas seeking a quick thrill on the roll of a dice, losing fortunes in the blink of an eye, but Apollo was there on business. It was a dangerous game, seeking out vampires. Their combination of territorial instinct and volatile nature made them dangerous, and he spent much of his time avoiding them.

But the world was more dangerous now. Vampire hunters had crawled out of the woodwork, bringing fear and death with them. Although most were easily dispatched, a rare few were a true danger to him, and their numbers increased by the hour. And so he was driven back to the tender mercies of those who had killed his mentor. They were his kin, and safety could be found with them. The wolf knew this, as did the pihrana, and they were capable of taking on far larger creatures than they could otherwise. Together, the vampires would be unstoppable, yet they were divisive, and his fears were mounting as he moved deeper into the maggot-ridden heart of the city.

As he thought of his vampiric nature, he suddenly realised his gnawing thirst. He had pushed it to the back of his mind on the journey, knowing that he had no means of quenching it. Normally he could live mosquito-like, draining blood from a vicitim so that they would never notice, and neither would his hunters. A trail of bodies would lead a skilled hunter to him. But this time it was overpowering. He needed to kill.

He pulled the bike over to the pavement, in a macabre imitation of a late-night kerb-crawler. He looked up and down, yet the street was deserted. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his prey.

A small man, walking fast, stooped. His hands twitch nervously in front of him, and his eyes flick from side to side. A flicker of madness in those darting eyes as well as the dull look of addiction. A compulsive gambler most likely, or an alchoholic, although I can't smell the liquor on him. Probably the former. I could take him easily. He'd be no loss.

He dismounted, removing his helmet and shaking his tangled hair out. Moving silently, he positioned himslef behind the man, matching him step for step. His breathing was shallow, hardly noticeable over the noise of cars and the racket from the buildings. Then he sprang forward, clamping his hand over the victim's mouth to stop him from screaming. The man thrashed wildly, yet could not break the iron grip on his face. Kicking and struggling helplessly, he was dragged into a nearby alley.

Apollo threw him to the ground roughly, then leapt after him. He seized the man's neck, then bit down on it, his fangs finding the pulsing jugular and making a delicate incision. He drank deeply as the man thrashed, tasting his blood as if it were fine wine. Then he gave in to the thirst. Dragging the man to his desperate mouth, he sucked down the salty fluid as if it was his last chance of survival. His wild fangs left deep gouges in the man's throat as he gulped madly. There was a gurgling noise as the windpipe was torn, and he slumped down, dead.

Apollo thrust the corpse away, revitalised. And then, with the force of a hammer blow, the pain came. He dropped to the floor heavily, his eyes bulging. He gasped for breath, but none came. His lungs were screaming from the lack of oxgen. He clawed at the air wildly, thrashing from side to side, his mouth open in a wordless, silent scream. He felt his skin crawl, and then his jaw began to spasm. The jawbones scraped together, sending firey agony shooting around his body.

And then it was over. This was his curse, along with his vampirism. He didn't know why it happened, but he seemed to be allergic to some people's blood, around one in twenty. He assumed that it must have something to do with blood type. Rising to his feet, he vomited, a gout of blood coming with it, although he wasn't sure who's it was. Utterly spent, he dragged his bike into the dark hiding place he had found, and then fell asleep. His search would continue the next night.

Kai shook his head "Jazz is no sewer rat, no mishapen. Here..."

He tossed Jackson a cel phone

"Speed dial 14 and tell them where your bike is. It will be trailered to a secure location, kept safe and sound till you pick it up."

He looked closely at Jackson

"Look, I know you're hurting, but would your lady want to see you like this? She had to see something special in you to take the trouble to make you one of us. You weren't a casual thing to her....Well you won't be a casual thing to Jazz either. She takes care of her people....and she can give you the vengance you crave"

He was cautiously tense, half expecting to have Jackson attack him

Davis did as his new aquaintance instructed, then handed the cellphone back. The scowl on his face spoke louder than the words that came out of his mouth...

"I'm starting to wonder where you're getting your intel. Are you hiring because two of your boys caught some lead in a black-bag op?"

Jackson still didn't trust this guy, but this 'Jazz' person had been somewhat well-known to his mistress, so that was a plus...

"No Jackson, we're hiring to go find the guys that lost a pair in a black bag op. Jazz is going to make sure whom ever is behind all of this is going to lose their heads over this. She's furious and the world is going to tremble and beg for mercy when she gets through with things"

There was no arrogance, no boast in Kai's voice, just a simple, powerful statement of facts. He had total faith that once Jazz set things in motion they would come about just the way the were planned. The devil was indeed in the details, and Jazz was the Devil.

"What the ...Did you see that?"

Kai pulled the Mercedez over and got out quickly, not waiting for Jackson. He was certain that he'd just seen a vampire he didn't recognise make a full kill. That was absolutely forbidden. He had the cel phone out and speed dialing 1 without even thinking about it.

"Jazz, I think I'm going to need back up. A unintroduced just made a full kill"

Her voice came back sharp and cold, over the phone; soft in his mind

"I'll be there immediately."

"

Jackson was on Kai's heels, exiting through the same door the other man had left from. The Beretta's finish gave no twinkle this time to hint at its presence, aside from the ka-chink of Davis chambering a round...

"We gonna snag him or bag him?"

The 9mm was loaded with something Jackson called 'Johnny Tremaines', a round commonly used by vampire hunters. The resin-cast bullets where filled with silver nitrate & either shattered or disolved on contact with water-based liquids like blood. Either way, they'd burn through the tissues of the vampiric target. The spare magazines where filled with standard solid-silver 'Paul Reveres'. Not as effective against vamp targets, but they killed mortal ones a bit easier than the JT's did...

"Or we can just give him a warning..."

Jackson added, almost in a joking sense with a smirk on his handsome features as he brought the M92 to a low ready position in the event he had to use it...

"I think we need to snag him Jackson. Jazz said she'd be here quick, but kami! Did he move fast"

Kai went to one knee by the drained body. Yes in the time it had taken him to pull over and get back to the alley way the strange vampire had disappeared down the other end of the short alley

"Now we're going to have to dispose of the body. Jazz will want to explain to him the error of his ways"

"Yes I will" Jazz's voice was cold as she landed silently behind them. Her tailored suite was unruffled by her flight to Kai's location. With silent footfalls she stepped over to look down at the corpse.

"Kai, call the cleaning crew....but introduce me to your well armed friend first"

A small group entered, clad mainly in fatigue pants & hooded sweatshirts as dark as the night they emerged from, one had the hood of his garment pulled up over his head & wore gloves to hide his hands. He walked in an uncomfortable-looking fashion, as if one of his legs where stiff.

They made their way to the bar in a rather rude manner, knocking into those who wouldn't get out of their way & glaring down those who took offense. The hooded one with the oddly thick leg that he kept stiff ordered the drinks in a stony voice, then paid the barkeep with a pair of twenty dollar bills & a request to keep the change.

One of the hunters spotted James (Wrong RP!) sipping his drink at the bar, and motioned for three of the others to contact him. Three ambled over, taking pulls from a variety of beers as they moved...

"You that hunter guy?"

The second-in-charge asked, his voice raised to be heard over the background roar of the casino... The noise also had the side benefit of nullifying shotgun microphones & other listening devices...

((Ayeesh, sorry for the wait in reply, had some work to do...What do you mean in that post "Wrong RP" WA?))

James glanced up from his drink.Ah shit, though James, these guys look like other hunters...Hope they weren't after Micah too, I'm not in the mood for trouble...

"You know, I might be," answered James. "Any of you wouldn't have happened to call a guy around twenty-thirty minutes ago on his cell?"

"I think we need to snag him Jackson. Jazz said she'd be here quick, but kami! Did he move fast"

Kai went to one knee by the drained body. Yes in the time it had taken him to pull over and get back to the alley way the strange vampire had disappeared down the other end of the short alley

"Now we're going to have to dispose of the body. Jazz will want to explain to him the error of his ways"

"Yes I will" Jazz's voice was cold as she landed silently behind them. Her tailored suite was unruffled by her flight to Kai's location. With silent footfalls she stepped over to look down at the corpse.

"Kai, call the cleaning crew....but introduce me to your well armed friend first"

Jackson dropped his left hand from the handgun, extending it to the woman who'd appeared behind them...

"Jackson Davis... Pleased to meetcha..."

This new employer was better looking than expected, and by the looks of things, wealthy as well...

Jazz smiled, not a fang in sight. She was too old and too experienced for that sort of slip or ego. She liked confident men. Taking the pro-offered heand she gave it a shake that was firm, but not agressive.

"I'm Jazz, and thank you for joining us."

Yes, it was a guess, but if Kai had brought him with him, then he was as good as a part of the family. His clothes didn't look like they'd had much wear, but they also didn't look like he'd taken any time in choosing them either. The gun however was well maintained and he held it like he knew it well. He looked vaguely familiar, and after a few seconds thought I believed I knew who his mistress had been...It was definitely 'had been'. The need for vampiric blood was flickering through his aura, and I knew that his old mistress would not have let him go hungry. Before dawn he would be mine.

But for the moment

"Kai, Mr. Davis, we need to find the one who did this. My nose tells me..."

I moved toward the other end of the dark ( to a human ) alley, searching for the easily discerned ( to me ) odoer of a large quantity of blood. Yes for me varying amounts of blood had their own subtle odors.

"Interesting. He vomited the blood back up. The blood alcohol level is rather high but not nearly enough to make it uninjestible to most vampires. I wonder if he as the Plague?"

I refered to one of the rare diseases that could befall a vampire. We needed to find him and fast

"Let us find his trail, he might not have moved too far from here."

((Ayeesh, sorry for the wait in reply, had some work to do...What do you mean in that post "Wrong RP" WA?))

James glanced up from his drink.Ah shit, though James, these guys look like other hunters...Hope they weren't after Micah too, I'm not in the mood for trouble...

"You know, I might be," answered James. "Any of you wouldn't have happened to call a guy around twenty-thirty minutes ago on his cell?"

The lieutenant nodded...

"That'd be our employer... We where told to meet someone with your description here..."

The man leaned in closer, the smell of Coors Light on his breath...

"You hunt 'exotic' stuff, right? The kind of vermin that walk on two legs?"

Under the sweatshirt's hem glimmered something metallic, the top of a handgun magazine. The cartridges where silver, stranger still was the casing material, which was match-grade aluminum instead of the usual brass. The bulge on his right hip indicated he might be carrying something illegal...

OOC: You referred to your character as Aidyn, from the Untested Courage roleplay. Hence my little insert.

The tiny dinner held few patrons at night, it normally did. Vegas wasn't to far of a drive away, and why should one help themselves to greasy slop food when the MGM's $9.99 all you can eat wasn't to far out. Not only was there mass produced food, but big breasted girls walking around all but topless, and the sound of money. Vegas, it was the American dream. Win big, never have to work again, or loose big, and taking your remaing cash to buy a bullet and rent a gun. It was the type of town that made everyone feel big. The perfect place for a Kindred push. However, the push always had to start on the outside. This time, it started somwhere around Barstow...

Davos Santari sat on an uncomfortable stool at the front bar of the dinner. Neon lights flickerd an eary red glow on his face as he sipped his coffee. In a hlaf hour, he'd have to go out back and force himself to vomit, other wise the brew would sit in his stomach, not go anywhere, and generally become uncomfortable. His dress was a little much for a place like this. Among the dinners, truckers, working girls on break, and bikers, he wore a black Amrani suit with a crimson red shirt, no tie. A pair of thin framed Oakley Half Jackets, black with ruby red lenses, sat in his breast pocket.

The images of New York continued to flash in his head. The shooting, the explosions, the killing. The look on Toldern's face as the Silver Nitrate frangible .454 round from the gun that Davos jokingly called "Chevelle" ripped into the prince's chest. The fading glow of Fiona's eyes as she slid into torpor, offering up her own vampiric blood to Davos. The frightend look of the random hunter as Davos ripped the cruixific from his hand. The headless corpse of Krageton, the Elder of New York.

His thoughts were interupted when the cute waitress bent forward, revealing a slight glimpse of her decent sized chest to Davos. He looked down, taking a slight breath, and noticed teh scent quickly. She was kindred, Gangrel. She pulled back, and smiled at Davos, that smile that women, both alive and dead, could give that said "I know that you know." He nodded back. He didn't notice any visable tattoos. It didn't mean anything, but in New York, almost every Kindred had some sort of identifying mark.

He watched her walk, they way her ass moved in the tight jeans, her hip's sway. He uncounscioulsy licked his lips, smiling, and went back to the coffee. This was again interupted. A loud bang just outside, Davos instinctively sliding his hand up under his coat, wrapping it around the grip of his Kimber. He had lost, well, sold, all his weapons, the small arsenal that armed not only him, but the other three Archons and younger assasins and shooters in the Invictus. He remebered the look on a buisness man's face as he deposited to duffle bag's worth of handguns on a table in a pawn shop owned by one of his own ghouls. The look when he said, "And teh 249 is in the car." Now all he had were the Kimbers, and a few magazines of his own hand load JHP rounds. He could get more ammo in Vegas, but out here, somwhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, no.

He looked over his shoulders to see them. Bikers. He only saw one flash of stainless plate, and instantly knew they were all rather well armed. It was the tattoo on the lead one that gave it away. Brujah. The worst kind of Gangrel. He sighed, and hoped they didn't know about him or the girl.

They were loud, rambucious, as most Brujah were. And unfortunately, they wouldn't keep to themselves. The booth they choose just happened to belong to the cute Gangrel waitress, and he could tell by the look in their eyes what they wanted from her. As they continued to harass her, he stood, dropped a five on the counter, and walked over.

"Let me go," she curssed, trying to pull her arm away from one that had grabbed her. The other patrons wanted nothing to do with this, so they jsut ignored it. Davos approached quietly, hands at his side. She looked at him, her fangs flashing momentarly, till she realized he would be there to help.

He looked down at the lead, and spoke quietly. "I believe the young lady asked you to release her arm, I suggest you do it." The lead Brujah looked up at him, and frowned.

"Listen pretty bitch, I don't think you understand what you might be getting yourself into here. This little girl's just playing along with us, thats all. Now, why dont you go sit down, if you want to wake up with your face in the same place."

Davos grimaced. They always wanted to play hardball. He nodded, and turned his back, walking over to the table next to them. He grabbed the knife out of the hands of an older man eating a steak, and turned around again. With a quick stab, he stuck it into the side of the head of the one grabbing the girl. He dropped dead on the table instantly. The lead stood, pulling out a S&W revolver, but Davos quickly disarmed him, and fired a shot square into the forhead of another one of the bikers, keeping his eyes on the lead. He placed it against his forhead, and spoke again. "Let her go."

The other Brujah were all but out the door, however the leader remained. He snarled, his fangs extending, and lunged forward at Davos. Davos sidestepped, dropped back, and tossed the revolver on the floor. He pulled out one of the Kimbers, and as the Brujah jumped back at him, he levled and squeezed off two rounds, one hitting him square center mass, the other right through the forhead. Even the undead wouldn't be able to walk of a .45JHP ripping into its skull.

Davos looked at the cute female Gangrel, and smiled. "I'll be around again, good...coffee." He looked at the patrons of the dinner, all of whom ignored the shooting. "Good to know no one saw anything," he said, dropping $100 bill on the table, and walking out.

He slid into the driver's seat of his choosen ride, a black 1998 Toyota Supra Turbo. It was bone stock, but Davos was sure he'd be able to find someone in Vegas to hook it up. His first job was to find the prince of the city, and let him, or her, know he was in town. He parked the car in the garrage of the Luxor, slid a fresh magazine into the used Kimber, and started to walk towards a raver club. He was positive he'd start finding info there.

The lieutenant nodded...

"That'd be our employer... We where told to meet someone with your description here..."

The man leaned in closer, the smell of Coors Light on his breath...

"You hunt 'exotic' stuff, right? The kind of vermin that walk on two legs?"

Under the sweatshirt's hem glimmered something metallic, the top of a handgun magazine. The cartridges where silver, stranger still was the casing material, which was match-grade aluminum instead of the usual brass. The bulge on his right hip indicated he might be carrying something illegal...

OOC: You referred to your character as Aidyn, from the Untested Courage roleplay. Hence my little insert.
((Oh, sorry 'bout that one))

James finished his drink and motioned to the bartender for another. He lay down another five for his scotch refill and looked at the man speaking to him. He nodded before taking a quick sip of his drink.

"Yeah, you could say that..." answered James. "So long as the hunted got a decent price on their heads. What kind of creature are we talking here? Or more importantly, how much are they worth?"

As the vampire in a black Amrani suit with a crimson red shirt, no tie and a pair of thin framed Oakley Half Jackets, black with ruby red lenses, in his breast pocket gets out of the black 1998 Toyota Supra Turbo, in the garage of the Luxor, he is watched, observed discretely. When he leaves the garage, he is followed for a block then approached, by a tall, fairhaired man in suit that speaks of custom British tailoring, as does his accent, even after all the years.

His approach is careful to be open but not conspicuous, courteous but not subserviant

"Excuse me sir, are you perhaps looking to check in? I don't believe I recognise you, and I am one who knows the residents"

*******************************************

Jazz let Kai lead the search, subtley testing Jackson by giving him the rear, trusting him with their backs. The trail was not that hard to discern. The vampire was obviously not well and had gone but a short distance before 'going to ground'

"There he is, and down for the count already. When you call the clean up crew warn them we may have a positive test on our hands. Jackson, don't touch him until we've got you back up to snuff" Jazz warned as she pulled a pair of latex exam gloves out of a pocket and rolled them on. She rifled his pockets and found the keys to the Honda bike nearby.

"Jackson, can you ride this?" Jazz tossed him the keys and nodded to the dark grey cycle

"I'll take our friend here with me and you can follow Kai once the clean up crew arrives"

Jazz hefted the comatose vampire over her shoulder and was gone in a rush of wind

((Oh, sorry 'bout that one))

James finished his drink and motioned to the bartender for another. He lay down another five for his scotch refill and looked at the man speaking to him. He nodded before taking a quick sip of his drink.

"Yeah, you could say that..." answered James. "So long as the hunted got a decent price on their heads. What kind of creature are we talking here? Or more importantly, how much are they worth?"

The man stepped in closer, obviously not wanting anyone to listen in...

"Suck-faces, vamps, kindred, whatever your name for them. Fifty grand per set of fangs. Interested?"

If he'd gotten the wrong guy, they'd have to off him in the middle of the casino, which would be messy... Maybe the strange figure a rank above him would have to do it, knives had always been his forte...

As the vampire in a black Amrani suit with a crimson red shirt, no tie and a pair of thin framed Oakley Half Jackets, black with ruby red lenses, in his breast pocket gets out of the black 1998 Toyota Supra Turbo, in the garage of the Luxor, he is watched, observed discretely. When he leaves the garage, he is followed for a block then approached, by a tall, fairhaired man in suit that speaks of custom British tailoring, as does his accent, even after all the years.

His approach is careful to be open but not conspicuous, courteous but not subserviant

"Excuse me sir, are you perhaps looking to check in? I don't believe I recognise you, and I am one who knows the residents"

*******************************************

Jazz let Kai lead the search, subtley testing Jackson by giving him the rear, trusting him with their backs. The trail was not that hard to discern. The vampire was obviously not well and had gone but a short distance before 'going to ground'

"There he is, and down for the count already. When you call the clean up crew warn them we may have a positive test on our hands. Jackson, don't touch him until we've got you back up to snuff" Jazz warned as she pulled a pair of latex exam gloves out of a pocket and rolled them on. She rifled his pockets and found the keys to the Honda bike nearby.

"Jackson, can you ride this?" Jazz tossed him the keys and nodded to the dark grey cycle

"I'll take our friend here with me and you can follow Kai once the clean up crew arrives"

Jazz hefted the comatose vampire over her shoulder and was gone in a rush of wind

The former SF nodded...

"Yes ma'am..."

The Berretta went back into the standard holster on his right side before he climbed onto the motorcycle...

"Yo, where are we headed?"

"Let me tell the clean up crew the possible problem, then down to the private basement of the Luxor. I'll have a security pass made up for you come morning." Kai answered as he headed back out to where the corpse lay hidden in the alleys darkness

The wait was only a few minutes, and Kai passed on the information to the men in the small camper shelled pickup that pulled up behind his Mercedez. All threee were oriental, small and mostly silent. They set about with practised efficiency. With a motion for Jackson to follow him Kai headed for the Luxor

Davos turned hearing the voice, carefull to keep the suit from flaring. The last thing he needed, even in Vegas, was to flash around his guns, or anything else for that matter. He looked the man over, noting his features, and thought of what to say. "You could say that. I'm looking to check in, but I don't have a room." He let his hand fall to the money clip in his pocket. He fingered it for a few seconds, then spoke again. "There wouldn't happen to be a few open rooms in the hotel, would there?"

In the distance he herad the buzz of a crotch rocket. High pitched than the VTwin on the Aprilia, and concentrated. Probably a Honda or Suzuki. He awaited the man's response. He could tell that there was something about him, and Davos prefered to ere on teh side of caution.

OOC: Tanara, you wouldn't happen to be the same Tanara from thefiringline.com or glocktalk.com would you?

OOC: There's another Tanara out there besides me? and interested in guns? Fascinateing but no, not me.

*******************************************

Jeremy brought out a slim, elegant card holder and withdrew a titanium business card, extending it to the newcomer. The deep engraveing was classic art nouveau, and the raised embossment said one word Jazz

"Present this to the concierge and you will be shown to the proper suites. I have to advise you, there has been some trouble the last few days. I won't speak of it here, but the Lady can and will."

Davos looked at the card. He could tell just from looking and feeling it that it was "unique". He smiled, and nodded politely, thanking the man. "I'll be sure to do that, thank you," he replied. His own accent wasn't quite British, but had the aire of education to it. He began walking towards the lobby of the hotel, card in his pocket.

He approached the desk, and handed the clerk the silver card, not saying a word. Right now, he was on code red. The sights, sounds, everything, off Las Vegas put most vampires on the defensive. It was bright, loud, energetic, perfect place for a vampire to hide, where his or her actions wouldn't seem out of the ordinary. However, it also offered plenty of visual distractions, plenty of noise that could pull your attentions away from where they belonged. He scanned the lobby, then watched the clerk, awaiting his reaction.

The clerk reacted with gratifying alacrity that spoke of much, if understated influence. He was ushered into the manager's private office, and greeted with a warmth and courtesy usually reserved for visiting 'whales' ( those extreme high rollers who drop a minimum of several millions each visit ) The titanium card was accepted and exchanged for a matte black card with a small gold rectangle filling one corner.

"If you will just thumbprint it on the gold, that will activate it to you personally and allow you up to the penthouse. And if any member of the Luxor's staff can be of service, please don't heistate to ask."

Davos nodded, and pressed down on the gold surface. He thanked the manager, and said he was fine. He was. He really didn't need anything. He had some clothes, and his guns, and a car. What little he did need, he could find elsewhere, and preferably it could be done "receiptless". He didn't need work orders floating around, especailly any work that he needed to get done. He stepped out of the office, and headed up to the penthouse.

He checked around the room, it was a little over the line of his new prefered tactic of blending, but in this case, he could definately live with it. He removed his over the shoulder twin holsters, and placed it under the matress of the main bed between the bed and the frame. He had a sneaky suspicion that they might be gone, or at least looked at, by the time he got back, ut he also had an idea that the Luxor was also owned by someone who may be, at the least, freindly, to kindred.

Right now, Davos only had one task. He needed to find out about this Jazz. Apearently, whoever he or she was had some sway in a town like this, and in a town like this, some sway meant alot of sway. He had two options at the moment, look on his own, or use the simple method of asking at the desk. While half of him didn't resist the idea of looking on his own to frequent one of the many dance clubs to possibly find some food, or maybe another form of companionship, he also wasn't in the mood to play games. Unarmed, he headed back down to the lobby, and approached teh concierges' desk.

He removed his sunglasses, he had a tendancy to wear them at all times, even inside, and spoke without any sence of rushed urgency. "Excuse me, but I need to ask a breif question. I was given a card earlier, with the word Jazz on it, but I gave it to the manager, got a decent room out of it. However, I was wondering who this Jazz is, or maybe where I could find them?"

"Let me tell the clean up crew the possible problem, then down to the private basement of the Luxor. I'll have a security pass made up for you come morning." Kai answered as he headed back out to where the corpse lay hidden in the alleys darkness

The wait was only a few minutes, and Kai passed on the information to the men in the small camper shelled pickup that pulled up behind his Mercedez. All threee were oriental, small and mostly silent. They set about with practised efficiency. With a motion for Jackson to follow him Kai headed for the Luxor

Jackson followed at a distance... This thing sure as Hell wasn't his Hayabusa, but it would work until he got his old bike back...

The young lady behind the desk didn't even bat an eye at his question. She motioned a bellhop over, an older man with faded blue eyes and an expression that said he'd seen it all, if not participated.

"Mr. Hayduke will escort you to the private elevator. Your card will take you on up"

"This way please sir." The blue eyes evidenced no curiosity at all. A very useful trait at the Luxor

A private elevator, so carefully blended into the decor that even an observant person would most likely have missed it, unless they knew to look for it, slid open when Davos was with in some four feet of it. The bellhop nodded and excused himself quietly.

There were no floor buttons, merely a card reader. The doors closed smoothly as the card glowed a dull red for a moment, then darkened into its normal matter black. The elevator also had no floor counter, and rose with unnerving swiftness. The doors sprang open once the destination had been reached as silently as they closed

"Good evening sir. Jazz extends her apologies, she is occupied at the moment, but asks me to pass on to you her welcome . Would you care for something to drink?" Marche, in full major domo array of formal claw hammer tails, dove grey vest and fine linen shirt, bowed slightly to the latest arrival. A very faint buzz of conversation could beheard coming from some where in the distance.

The walls here are especially insulated, and the floor iscovered deeply in expensive, tasteful carpeting. Whoever lives here has a passion for art deco, and art nouveau. To the experienced eye the quality of the decor and furnishings are undeniable.

*****************************************8

Jazz watched as a physician who had no problem working for some one as generous as she, drew a test tube of blood from the unconscuious vampier she had brought to her sanctum.

"Put him in one of the silver bound caskets. I don't want him up and moving about untill the tests have come back, and I decide what to do with him"

********************************************

The security pass on Kai's Mercedez opened the gates to the concealed sub basement in the Luxor's parking garage. Jacksons bike had already been delivered and had been placed next to a rare Hesketh Vampire and several other fine motorcycles.

Davos thought for a moment. He could press his luck, and assume Marche was wise to the whole deal, but instead decided to leave things as is, not wanting to reveal to much to soon. He looked around briefly, then back at the aide. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I'll just wait a bit, I'm not really in any hurry."

"Then, please make yourself at home" Marche replied with a sweep of his hand. "You will that other guests have congregated mostly in the living room, but I do believe that some have made themselves comfortable in the card room." He paused as Jazz let him know that she would be arriving downstairs shortly, then continued

"Might I have your name so I may inform Jazz of your arrival?"

Behind them the elevator car closed and hurtled downward, summoned to the private basement by Kai's card.

Davos looked at the card room, then back at Marche. "Davos. Davos Santari. I don't have an appointment, but I just thought it would be best to, introduce myself," he said.

Apollo lay there, in he casket, in a state of transcendance. He was above conciousness, above all sensation, above time itself. And then, aware of his transcendant state, he realised that it had in fact ended. His eyes were still shut as he savoured the pain still coursing through him. His mind was foggy, thoughts tangling in their mad dash across his brain. His throat was dry and parched- what little fluid he had drunk had been vomited back up in the alley. What a waste. His first blood in days, and he had lost it to a caprticious twist of fate.

His eyes opened, expecting to see the alleyway in all its squalid glory, crates and bins scattered haphazardly across the hard floor. The body of the gambler would be there as well, his pooled blood drying and evaporating, his body still lying there in its cheap, torn suit and surprised expression.

It was still dark, yet strangely silent. The faint gloom that passed for night under the neon lights was replaced with a pitch blackness. The sounds of the city had also vanished. It was as dark and silent as the grave...
Finally a thought managed to disentangle itself and in a flash of revelation he realised that that could indeed be where he was. He reached upward and found what could be a lid....

And then snatched his hands away with a scream. They felt as if they were on fire, agony flaring across the palms, then running through his wrists and up his arms in twin rivers. His chest tightened and he struggled to breathe, pulling in a lungfull of musty coffin air. He screamed again, clutching his hands to his chest. This was worse than the sickness from the gambler's blood, far worse. In that instant he wished for death. But the pain subsided, and he made a mental note not to touch the lid again. Silver was incredibly painful to vampires. There was probably something scientific underpinning it, but Apollo didn't know what it was. So, instead of trying to knock the coffin lid off, he called out. Once, then twice, and a third time. He wasn't sure if anyone could hear him, but if they could, maybe they would let him go.

Not so far away as to go unheard by her incredibly accute vampiric hearing, Jazz heard a scream, and then another. No vampire with the Plague would have reacted like that to sliver, the rare but fatal dissease would have left it's victim unable to feel the burns made by silver. She lept from her bath and was there in seconds, reaching out telekenetically to remove the chains and lachments of pure silver. She stood well clear, prudent as she was not always, but with recent events...

**Be Calm, I thought you had the plague, and would not risk me and mine to such. Be calm you will be released** She called mentally to the one within. ** I am Jazz. Now tell me who you are and what is your business in Las Vegas?**

It was a myth that one couldn't lie mind to mind, but it would take some one far more powerful to lie to Jazz and she not know it.

**********************************************

"Given the nature of recent events, I doubt any one has an appointment Mr.Santari. I will advise Jazz and she will be down shortly, I am sure."

March left the newcomer and headed through the discrete door that led to the stairs up to the private rooms. Jazz would need to know that there was another new come vampire in the city.

Apollo's panic subsided as he heard the voice in his head. Jazz... Apollo had heard that name before, although he could not remember where. Still, it wouldn't hurt to acknowledge her telepathic message. If he co-operated, it could get him released more quickly.

*My name is Apollo. I came to this city to seek out my kind. It appears that I have found them.*

The bitter laugh was not included in the telepathic message, but she would probably pick up on it.

Jazz moved the heavy lid aside with ease, and reached out to see if Apollo would accept her help up. She winced when she saw the burns on his hands and forearms. Those she had assigned his care to had laid him in the casque unclothed after bathing his insensate form. Well it mattered little, as she was unclad from her bath. And if she had anything he hadn't seen she'd be interested to find out.

"As I said Apollo, We feared you had the Plague...you vomited up your last meal, and collapsed so quickly after."

Davos nodded polietly, and started walking towards the card room. He slid in quietly through the door, finding himself in the back of the room. Nice place he thought to himslef quietly.

Four young, as vampires go, vampiresses looked up from a desilutory game of bridge. One, well dressed and impeccably groomed - but fear lurked openly in her eyes- laid down her cards and studied the new comer. As the others looked up, fear -though hidden to one degree or another- was visable in all of them. None was more than maybe seventy years old, though their appearance age ranged from twenty to forty.

"I don't think we've seen you before. New to the city?"

The question was casual on in tone, not the intensity of mistrust behind it

[ooc: pure nps, play them as you will]

Davos walked over slowly to the table. While the voice conveyed nothing, his examinaiton of their eyes, their body language told him the truth. He could tell that not only were they warry of him, it bordered on fear. At he turned, and offered a smile. Not a disarming grin, but the cool smirk of a cold hearted, in more ways than one, killer. Being dead for 4oo years had its perks, and one of them was the ability to scare other undead.

He approached the table slowly, with a bit a saunter in his walk, not quite a strut, but not your normal walk. He bowed slightly to the vampiress that had questioned him, and smiled a more disarming smile. "Davos Santari, from New York." He didn't have a New York accent, and many people, living and dead, would have thought he was from England or Paris. "I arrived not too long ago, looking for work, you could say."

TAG

OOC: Just wanna tell ya'll I may not be posting again till saturday, gonna be sans computer for a few days...

He allowed Jazz to help him out of the coffin. It was a relief to be out of that silvered prison. She was naked, and he realised with a start that he was as well. He managed to choke down any reaction, remaining completely impassive in the face of the somewhat awkward situation.

"I'm sorry, did you say plague? What is that? I apologise for my ignorance, but I have been out of the loop for quite some time now."

"Oh it has some fancy scientific name, I just call it the Plague, it certainly acts like the Black Plague of old did...get it and die. You vomited, and that's one of the symptoms, inability to keep 'dinner' down, along with not an immunity to silver, but an absence of sensation, a numbness that takes over the body."

Marche tapped lightly on the door, and at Jazz's mental permission entered with fresh clothing over his arm. He hung the clothing, very close in size to what Apollo would wear and finely tailored, then departed discretely.

"Apollo I owe you blood for the harm done to you while in my care. I would discharge my debt" Jazz spoke formally, placing her hand over where his heart once beat

The man stepped in closer, obviously not wanting anyone to listen in...

"Suck-faces, vamps, kindred, whatever your name for them. Fifty grand per set of fangs. Interested?"

If he'd gotten the wrong guy, they'd have to off him in the middle of the casino, which would be messy... Maybe the strange figure a rank above him would have to do it, knives had always been his forte...

((Sorry for the long wait in reply, WA, my AP exam came up, had to do some actual studying this year...))

James sipped his scotch and stared through the semi-clear liquid towards the bottom of the glass for a moment. I should have expected vampires, it's all any of the big boys want dead these days...Thought James as he considered the proposal. And fifty grand is a lot, per set of fangs....The hunter grinned to himself. I think someone of my kind can handle this...

"You have caught my interest, stranger..." answered James with a dark smile. "Is there anyone in particular, though, it makes the hunt a bit easier on my part to track specifics rather than search the crowds..."

((Sorry for the long wait in reply, WA, my AP exam came up, had to do some actual studying this year...))

James sipped his scotch and stared through the semi-clear liquid towards the bottom of the glass for a moment. I should have expected vampires, it's all any of the big boys want dead these days...Thought James as he considered the proposal. And fifty grand is a lot, per set of fangs....The hunter grinned to himself. I think someone of my kind can handle this...

"You have caught my interest, stranger..." answered James with a dark smile. "Is there anyone in particular, though, it makes the hunt a bit easier on my part to track specifics rather than search the crowds..."

The odd-looking one at the bar slid something back up under his sweatshirt, while the man in front of James nodded slowly...

"You'll be operating under a contract with our organization, which gives you access to weapons, specialized equipment & ammunition, and back-up should you require it. Join us at our end of the bar when you're done here, and we'll transport you to a more secure location to get your signature & issue some basic equipment if you think you'll need it..."

His piece said, the lieutenant turned to rejoin his team at the opposite end of the bar...

The young lady behind the desk didn't even bat an eye at his question. She motioned a bellhop over, an older man with faded blue eyes and an expression that said he'd seen it all, if not participated.

"Mr. Hayduke will escort you to the private elevator. Your card will take you on up"

"This way please sir." The blue eyes evidenced no curiosity at all. A very useful trait at the Luxor

A private elevator, so carefully blended into the decor that even an observant person would most likely have missed it, unless they knew to look for it, slid open when Davos was with in some four feet of it. The bellhop nodded and excused himself quietly.

There were no floor buttons, merely a card reader. The doors closed smoothly as the card glowed a dull red for a moment, then darkened into its normal matter black. The elevator also had no floor counter, and rose with unnerving swiftness. The doors sprang open once the destination had been reached as silently as they closed

"Good evening sir. Jazz extends her apologies, she is occupied at the moment, but asks me to pass on to you her welcome . Would you care for something to drink?" Marche, in full major domo array of formal claw hammer tails, dove grey vest and fine linen shirt, bowed slightly to the latest arrival. A very faint buzz of conversation could beheard coming from some where in the distance.

The walls here are especially insulated, and the floor iscovered deeply in expensive, tasteful carpeting. Whoever lives here has a passion for art deco, and art nouveau. To the experienced eye the quality of the decor and furnishings are undeniable.

*****************************************8

Jazz watched as a physician who had no problem working for some one as generous as she, drew a test tube of blood from the unconscuious vampier she had brought to her sanctum.

"Put him in one of the silver bound caskets. I don't want him up and moving about untill the tests have come back, and I decide what to do with him"

********************************************

The security pass on Kai's Mercedez opened the gates to the concealed sub basement in the Luxor's parking garage. Jacksons bike had already been delivered and had been placed next to a rare Hesketh Vampire and several other fine motorcycles.

The mercenary glided to a smooth stop beside his heavily modified Suzuki Hayabusa 1300. The bike had a gold-colored frame & handlebar assembly, set off by the jet-black paintjob. Golden flames seared backwards across the sides, behind a black Hayabusa logo. The helmet attatched to the rear seat was the same color, complete with matching flames & gold face-shield.
Acid-yellow neon runners, gold-hued tire-bulbs, turbo-charged engine, nitrous oxide tank, and thundering CD player set into a stretched frame rounded out the extensive work he'd had done on the bike.

A small smile crept onto his face as he inspected his pride-and-joy for any dings or knicks. He found none, which broadened his smile somewhat. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he used them to open the rear storage compartment. Within was a second handgun, a smaller Berretta Cougar, and a pair of magazines. He'd lost the extensively modified SOPMOD M4A1 in the house fire he'd started, so he'd need a new mid-size assault weapon, and possibly a smaller sub-machinegun for high-visibility ops...

Kai grinned as Jackson inspected the custome bike with a thoroughness one generally reserved for a lover

"Our people take good care of things entrusted to them. Jazz prefers it that way, and what Jazz wants she tends to get."

He moved over to the elevator and placed his fingers on a print reader that slid out of a concealed pannel. The door slid open as the private car arrived.

"Lets get you into the system, and down to the main armory, then up to see Jazz. Unless you feel you have enough fire power for the moment"

The odd-looking one at the bar slid something back up under his sweatshirt, while the man in front of James nodded slowly...

"You'll be operating under a contract with our organization, which gives you access to weapons, specialized equipment & ammunition, and back-up should you require it. Join us at our end of the bar when you're done here, and we'll transport you to a more secure location to get your signature & issue some basic equipment if you think you'll need it..."

His piece said, the lieutenant turned to rejoin his team at the opposite end of the bar...

James nodded and finished his glass of scotch. He left a tip on the bar under the glass and stepped from the stool and glanced around at the strange group of hunters.

Seems like the big boys...James thought as he walked towards the end of the bar as casually as anyone.

((Sorry it's so short, I don't have much time. School's gettin' a bit crazy with SOLs and my band needs me to write up some new lyrics...I'll be able to reply by thursday hopefully...Sorry dude))

Davos sat next to the questioning vampires, much to their dismay, and offred another smirk. "So, tell me, if you can, about the person who runs this place. Its nicer than what I'm used to, and I'm used to some nice things."

That got some wide eyed looks, and soft voiced murmurs among them selves
"Jazz didn't send for him."
"Sounds like not"
"Oh my you want to be the one to tell him, or shall I?"
"Oh you do it, I'm just so stressed, I couldn't eat earlier. I think I'm going to go find a glass"
"Whimp"
"Scared silly" The youngest in appearance nodded to the newcomer and she got up with and drifted away, rubbing her hands together nearly continuously

The one who'd spoken to him first gave him a tight smile

"This is Jazz's place. Thankfully she was in the 'Big Easy' when the trouble happened...though maybe if she'd been here none of this would have happened."

Davos nodded. He kept hearing the name Jazz. He watched as one stood and walked off, leaving him with the other. "Big Easy? Eh, to much activity there, even for me. Can't tell the difference btween the real thing and the fakers." At this point he was positive that he was in kindred, if not freindly, company. "So, what exactly happened, that it was good she was away for?"

That he hadn't heard the catastrophic news was perfect bait for the vampiress.

"The prince, his consort," She ticked them off on her perfectly manicured fingers "All five elders, and ten of the oldest among us. Thats why it's good that Jazz was gone. They certainly would have tried for her."

The other two cut in, falling over themselves to add more information and speculation

"But if they had they'd be so much dead by now."

"Jazz's peeple would have dealt with them"

"I'm sure they are working on finding them right this moment."

"It's good you came here, with no Prince, Jazz will take care of you"

"Oh I will?" Came a wry voice from behind, as Jazz entered the room "Really Marissa, don't make promises in the name of another."

Marissa made a rather squeeking sound and got up from the card table hurriedly, as did the other two. With many small excuses they left the room hurriedly. Jazz watched them go with a cool smile on her lips, then turned to the newcomer, one eyebrow raised.

"You smell of weapons, of much familiarity with weapons...and yes" The eyebrow twitched "We did look. I do so hope that your oddly timed arrival has not a single thing to do with our recent losses" The smile was that of a confident predator, on it's home ground. It said that honesty would definitely be the best policy as well

The blood that she'd fed Apollo, to heal his silver inflicted wounds weakend her not at all. And very few knew all the defenses that lay about various portions of her home ground. She and he might be alone in the card room, but they were not unobserved. The camera and audio system was microminiatureized, well concelaed and state of the art. Jazz did nothing half way.

((OOC: Here I go! :D))


Location: A Few miles west of the Nevada California Stateline...

The older Ford WonderVan plowed down the Freeway, it's destination: Las Vagas. The WonderVan was in surpursingly good condiction for its age, the soft sky blue paint job pretty recent, covering up any rust that may have stained the Van before.

The interior was completely unlike the outside. While extenerally, the Van did look stock out of the box, the interior was entirely cusomtized. The regular, stock seatings had been removed completely, being replaced with a single micro-'hide-a-bed' couch at the rear. The flooring was plush brown carpet, comfortable to lay on, yet easy to keep clean. A small refrigator had been built into a side panel, and was stocked with cold bottled drinking water and a variety of Medications for Sae.

The driver of the van, a young and very human female, of either Japanese or Korean descent, was dressed in light colors and clothing which didn't seek to attract attention to herself, a beige loose fitting t-shirt and a pair of faded demin jeans a size or two too big, held up with a belt. She had a healthy tan, and her dimples suggested she smiled often. This girl was Yae Kiyru, and in the back of the van sat the rather pale skinned Sae Kiyru, twin sister to the driver.

The driver glances into the rearview mirror, speaking softly "Hey Sae. How you doing back there?"

"Okay." The anemic girl replied, staring out the side window.

"Alright. If you start to feel dizzy or light-headed, just say so and I'll pull over for a bit, okay?"

"Awright."

"It's not that much farther now. You're going to love Las Vagas!"

"Sis... You didn't have to bring me along. You know I'll only slow you down from having fun..." Sae said, staring at her hands in her lap.

"Non-sense! I wouldn't have it any other way. Cheer up. You're going to have so much fun. And, it'll do you some good to get outta our house."

"I guess... And Yae... Thanks for taking me with you."

Smiling to herself, Yae whistled as they drove over the stateline, Las Vagas rapidly approaching...


((OOC: Basically, I guess I play these two as people who have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yae is a Psychic, but Sae is anemic. Even though I think it's totally wrong, Sae will probably end up being a plot device... >_>))

Davos looked at the vampiress, and noted that with out a doubt, she was a power player. He bowed, more than just a casual bow but a bow befitting a prince, and rose.

"I assume your Jazz. My name is Davos Santari, I'm a Daeva from New York. Thinks got a little warm, and I decided to find somplace new to hang for a bit, and Vegas fit the bill. And I'm afraid, or maybe glad to say, I don't know much at all about your recent problems."

Jazz accepted the bow as her due. And tasted the truth of his words, but also knew that there was more.

"You assume correctly, but it is a bad trait to aquire. And I somehow doubt that 'warm' is suffecient to describe the incident completely. I'd prefer to know the whole of the story before things go any further."

Davos nodded. He understood how she would want the whole truth, and nothing but, however it may put him in a precarious situation. Elders dont like it when other elders wind up dead. He remained standing, waiting for her to allow him to sit, he wasn't in the mood, or position to piss off another prince or elder. He found it odd that here, in Vegas, at jsut around 400, he was almost an elder, but it New York, you didn't even come close till you started hitting 900s. "Well, if you insisit, I will tell you."

OOC: Shitty excuse for a post, but Im about to go to bed, and I'll have a nice, well thought out, decent post for you tommorow. Also, check your tgrams in about five minutes.

OOC: Will do

*******************************************

"Come with me Davos, there are more comfortable places to tell the whole story."

Jazz led the way to small but well stocked library, set just for two, as the single pair of leather covered lounge chairs indicated. She took one, pulled the lever, letting the built in leg rest come up, as she waved toward the other. Silently Marche entered with a tray bearing a pair of champaigne stems, filled with the ruby red liquid of life. One the tray had been set on the table between the two, he exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Davos, I am no fan of New York, or the clans , or even danger of danger Paris - never have been, never will be. They call me rogue, irresponsible, dangerous. I belong to no clan, I was made before they were existed. I need no clan and bow only to those I wish. The one thing I ask is speak the truth and deal with the chips as they fall."

((OOC: Tanara, get that TG I sent you?))


"Viva... Las Vegas!" Yae announced happily as her WonderVan rolled into the city limits. Stopping at a red light, Yae fishes in her door's side compartment, dragging out an envelope. Inside was the information for the Casino resort they were staying at: the Luxor.
Inside this was a letter of introduction, along with two silvery metal like cards, with a single word on them, 'Jazz.' Again, Yae fingered the titanium card, flipping it over in her hand several times. "Hmmm... It must be some sort of credit card... No, no magnetic stripe... Maybe we exchange it for credit cards at the hotel? What do you think, Sae?"

"Maybe. I wonder how much they gave us?"

"That contest I won said a thousand dollar credit line. So, I'm pretty sure two thousand. One grand for me, and one grand for you." She beamed a smile into the rearview mirror. Sae weakly returns the smile.

Cruising down the street, Yae quickly finds the Luxor resort, and pulls into the Valet parking service area. Very much accustomized to BMWs and Mercedaz Benzes(I know I misspelled that. >_>), the valets at first seemed dumbstruck by the very vanilla family van pulling up to them. Hopping out the driver side door, Yae briefly searches for a valet, and gingerly tosses him the keys to her van. "Take good care of her!" She chirps, going to the side door and opening it for Sae, lending her a hand as her paler twin exits the van. "Here we are, the grand Luxor hotel and resort!"

Retriving a bag of emergancy medications from the built-in fridge, Yae lets the valet park their van, as she and Sae venture into the reception area hand in hand.

The recepictionist boredly glances over the lightly packed two, giving them both a look of 'I KNOW neither of you can afford this hotel, but since it's my job, I'll nicely tell you to screw off,' but... All that changed as soon as Yae presented her with the voucher and the two Titanium business cards.

((OOC2: And now, I'll shamelessly copy/paste Tanara's post concerning the Titanium cards here... Edited, to reflect my characters, of course. Hope you don't mind, Tanara... >_>;; ))

The clerk reacted with gratifying alacrity that spoke of much, if understated influence. Both girls were ushered into the manager's private office, and greeted with a warmth and courtesy usually reserved for visiting 'whales' ( those extreme high rollers who drop a minimum of several millions each visit ) The titanium cards were accepted and exchanged for a pair of matte black cards with a small gold rectangle filling one corner.

"If you will just thumbprint it on the gold, that will activate it to you personally and allow you up to the penthouse. And if any member of the Luxor's staff can be of service, please don't heistate to ask." The manager said, as Yae and Sae did as instructed, pressing their thumbs over the triangle.

"Umh... Actually... My sister doesn't feel too well. Can a bellhop or someone bring our bags up to our room?" Yae posed the question. The manager seemed only too happy to comply, calling over a bellhop to take Yae and Sae's two duffel bags for them. "Thanks. We'll follow him up to our suite."

Davos sat, reclining into the chair, but not flipping out the leg rest. He took a long sip from the flute, he hadn't eaten in a few days, and placed the flute on the table next to him. He closed his eyes, pressing his fingertips together, as if trying to focus on something and then try to present to her the image.

He sighed, not loudly as to sound upset, but quietly, collecting his thoughts. His words were quiet, but audible without need to strain, and carried an aire of seriousness.

"I was sired in the early 1600s, by a Daeva vampiress who I was, in actuallity, out to get. I wasn't a priest, but a trained assasin working for the Inquisition, it kept their hands free of the blood. She embraced me out of reasons unbeknownst to me, as she was soon slayed before I could find out. I moved around, offering my expierience and skills out to other covens and clans, working as a hit man, assasin, spy, whatever. I built up on my skills. Four hundred years gives you a lot of time to train."

"In 1889, I found a coven in Budhapest (I know I spelled that wrong) that needed some killers. They offered everything I needed, a home, elysium, money, and food. In 1905, they moved the entire coven to New York."

He paused, hinting that this is where the trouble started. He closed his eyes again, taking another long draw from the flute, the coppery tasting liquid flowing over his fangs, down his throat, and filling his system with the life blood he needed to live.

"The real problems started in fifty eight, or fifty nine, I really dont remeber. Hearing you state your lack of desire or care over clan and coven echoes my own beliefes. I never really cared that I was a Daeva, or if ay one else was what they were. However, a La Sombra Mekhet quickly rose to power, and took the title of Prince of New York. He was a good five hundred years older than I, and had a true hate of the Daeva for reasons beyond my grasp. It didn't help that another vampiress, Rain, a Mekhet, and I were romantically involved. She too was one of the coven Archons."

"We were the best. Lycan problems, another coven trying to move in on us, hunters getting too close to us, anything, and we took care of it. We were loud, but quiet at the same time. Half the gang wars in New York started becuase of Rain and I."

"However, one too many times I pissed off the Prince, Kollin Retorus. He didn't like me, and I didn't like him. I'm not sure who started the argument, but after one heated debate, he threatend to have me removed from the clan. The argument descended into a fist fight, and the only way to really defeat an elder is to put a .454 Casul High content silver round into his face. I ran after that. Rain said she would come with me, but before I could go back to get her, the Princes' little bitch of a whore ghoul killed her in her sleep. I made sure she received a proper buriall, for a vampire, and to this day keep a small vial of her blood as a remberance."

"After that, I became my own one man Seven. I moved tactically, slowly but surely killing the entire presence of kindred, and ghouls, in New York. Took me thirteen years, but it was worth the wait. After that, I fled to LA, and stayed with Rain's sire for a few years before hopping around in the deserts in and around Barstow, hanging with kindred and ghoul street racers. I pissed off the local Brujahs, killed a few, and decided to flee. I ended up here just this night, and now I sit with you."

Davos paused, taking another sip of the cool red liquid, letting the story settle with Jazz. He looked around briefly, then let his eyes settle back on Jazz. "I do hope I'm not intruding on your terrain."

Jazz had listened intently to Davos's tale. She'd hear others much like it before, but each was as different as the one who told it. Humans thought that Vampires were evil, 'And most of us are far worse than merely evil, the stuff of a humans nightmares...but not all of us are, I refuse to believe that' she thought before speaking

"I am sorry for the loss of your lady, and as long as you remember her she is not truly gone. Your actions and revenge...I have no problems with what you have done. All I ask is that here, in Las Vegas, if you feel you need to start such a war, speak with me first, let me see if blood shed among our kind be averted."

She sighed and took a sip from her flute.

"As to our current concerns...Marissa was not quite correct. She either doesn't know or neglected to mention that numerous of your younger kin were murdered as well. We have been so careful here all these years. Very strict rules about feeding and sireing. To keep us hidden, unnoticed and therefore safe."

"I still don't know all the details. My people should have a completele as possible report available upon my awakening."

She looked into the rich depths of the blood, and looked back up with a slightly haunted expression

"Davos, the hunters knew insider information, too much correct information for it to be casual spill over. We have a traitor and that is not a happy throught...and while I do not believe in God or the Devil..some kind power has sent you. I taste the truth of your words, and no you are not intruding, but are a most welcome arrival."

"False pride is not something I try and indulge in. My people are good, professional and highly trained. An outsider however will see things that familiarity may make us miss."

Her mind reached out to his, a courteous request for admitance.

**********************************************

Mr, Hayduke, the senior bellhop escorted Yae and Sae up to the spacious suite, and set each ones bags down in the appropriate room. He displayed the special features of Sae's room

"If miss will note the windows are not such at all, but flat screen tv's displaying a real time shot of what the view would be from this room. The walls have custom sound suppression and the room has it's own fire supression system, a combined Halon and water dispersal sprinkler system."

He looked at Yae "Just remember that if the door seals don't try and break through. Halon is not breathable, and is heavier than air. Now, if you will note"

He moved back into the short, plushly carpedted hall way-There appeared to be only four suites on this floor- the private elevator up is here, and your card will allow you up to the lounge. Dawn will be at ..." [i]He pulled local sunrise time from memory and gave it crisply

"Please make yourself at home, and enjoy all the House has to offer."

"Nifty." Yae comments as the bellhop points out the flatscreen TVs which made up their windows.

Yae nods to the bellhop as Sae makes her way to the large, very comfortable looking bed and lays on it.

"If the doors seal, don't try to break through, got it..." She glanced at the door, and assumed the bellhop was joking. There was no way she could break through that. But, she didn't mind it. It wasn't like he was saying she was fat, or anything.

He then gave her the exact time of dawn, and Yae responds with a, "Got it. You've been very helpful. Hmmm... I think we got it from here. Bye bye!" She flashes him a very bright smile and saw him to their door, closing it behind him. "Phew! Look at this place! Wow! This gots more stuff then our house does!"

Sae manages to give a weak nod, before crawling under the comfortor, snuggling up with a pillow. "I'm going to sleep now." She announced, then puncuated with a yawn.

"Okay. I think I'll take a gander around the lobby while I'm here. Be back in an hour or so! Sweet dreams!" With that, Yae left their suite, steeping into the hallway.

She glanced to where Hayduke had shown her where the private elevator was, and went to it, pressing the call button. Without a sound, the doors slid open, and Yae steps in. She flips the black card in her hands, glancing around for the card swiper, spying it but no floor buttons. She shrugs, and makes as if to swipe her card, but...

... The doors close, her card briefly flashes red, which causes Yae to drop it. But, not before the car began to risem very swiftly. Yae hurriedly stoops and snatches up her card, panic momentary taking her, but this subsides as the car reaches the its desinated floor. That was... Fun. Wow. It rocks to be rich! She thought as the doors opened, allowing her access to the private VIP lounge of Luxor...

Her mind reached out to his, a courteous request for admitance.

Davos could feel her push, and he took a long sip from the flute. He placed it down, crossing his hands in his lap, and nodded in response, allowing her to continue to reach.

Then she was in his mind, a scalding presence, a fine honed rage that promised an eternity of punishment for those that had roused it

*I am not like most Davos. My 'terrain', my 'territory' is not land, or wealth. It is people, people I have vowed - if to no one but myself- to protect, to be a good and proper noble to. I hold their fealty, as they hold mine...and now they have been slain or suffered because I did not protect them."

Jazz came from a time when the pledge of a knight, a noble, meant something and it was a part of her that she would never lose. Those that had done this had roused a sleeping dragon that would make the Son of the Dragon - Vlad Tepes - Vlad Dracula -pale by comparison.

"Join me Davos, and you will be rewarded. Las Vegas needs a prince"

Prince. It was a title that was reserved, and revered. Those who had achieved such a title were often loved, and feared, if for nothing else than power. It was a position that many a Ventrue had fought fang and nail for, that many had gone beyond killing for. It was a position Davos never thought he would hold. Yet, despite the power of a Prince, he knew that it was Jazz who would have the real say, that Jazz would be the true leader of Los Vegas. He may be the prince, but she the Queen. He smiled, stood, and bowed deeply.

"Jazz, it would be my pleasure, and even more my deepest honor, to join you. Ask of me, and you shall recieve," he said, comming up from the bow. He would swear feality to her, and has his hand brushed against the small vial of Rain's blood in his pocket, he swore to himself, if no one else, he would not fail her.

She followed the line of his thinking, and swiftly corrected it *No Davos, equals, partners. I know my strengths and weaknesses. I prefer to share power with some one who can mitigate my flaws and bolster my good points. I want no puppet, no toy* Her mind voice was adamant * I get too many of those. 'Yes men - or women' are fatal to a ruler, and I know you know that well. And I expect the same from you in return - I'll tell you when you are making mistakes and you do the same for me. May not be pleasant but it is the best way, and far to rare among our kind.*

Her mind voice continued, oddly hesitant *Would you share blood?*

Davos understood now, and nodded again, but then paused. To share blood was a tabboo of the highest in many clans, and even outside of many clans, it was generally looked down upon. He had only shared blood with one other vampire before, Rain, when she had been near fattaly wounded. Still, he was compelled, something, not Jazz, but something, told him this was the right thing to do. He nodded again, and removed his jacket. He waited for Jazz to signal whether she wanted to drink from the wrist or neck.

*Oh I have stayed away from that life far too long- and glad of it I am reminded again of how much I dislike it.* her mental voice was soft as she caught what made him pause

* it used to be the highest honor, a mark of trust and friendship- and a treat* She added with blunt honesty, revealing the reason for her hesitancy. * between lovers*

A creature of the senses she might be, sensual and unapologetic about it, still she didn't take a lover at first meeting.

With an elegant lift and turn of the wrist she offered Davos her right wrist

Davos nodded, and decided it was best. He stepped forward, and took her wrist in his hand, bringing it up to his mouth. He looked at her again, then back down at the wrist. (OOC: I assume youjust want him to bite the wrist. If not, I can change it).

Davos held it up to his lips, opened his mouth, and bit down. He felt the skin part as his fangs broke the skin, and felt the power flow through his system as the life blood of Jazz entered his mouth, and mixed with his own blood. It sent shivers down his spine, shockwaves thorugh his entire body. He dank just enough to get the feel then stopped, licking the wounds shut. He stood back up to his full height, and shook of the euphoric feeling of drinking another Vampire's blood. He reached down to his own wrist, not saying a thing, and rolled back his sleave. He extended it to Jazz, still quiet, and held it out for her to drink.

Wow. It rocks to be rich! She thought as the doors opened, allowing her access to the private VIP lounge of Luxor...

"Excuse me miss, are you alright?" Marche was taking fresh goblets to the assembled vampires in the gathering room, but stopped when the private elevator opened and a young lady he did not recognise stumbled out half crouching. In full major domo array of formal claw hammer tails, dove grey vest and fine linen shirt, he made an elegant figure. Marche frowned slightly. The young lady was of no prepossessing appearance, and if he was not mistaken - and he seldom was about such things- no vampire.

"Are you seeking your master or mistress?" He enquired of Yae, though he did not know her name as yet. It was very bad form for a ghoul just to be wandering around. Especially at thimes like these they were required to stay in one of the specially assigned lounges.

*********************************************

Jazz took his offered wrist and raised it to her lips, takeing an appreciative sniff.

"I like the cologne you wear. It suites you"

With a precise strike her fangs slid into his wrist, painless save for a slight split second of pressure. The tiniest sip and she rolled him around in her mouth. Savoring his essence, the depths of what made him him, the foundations of his personality, his power. A slight pleasurable frisson traveled up her spine, waking every nerve. Then he was absorbed in her, his power matched in her.

The punctures vanished as she turned the contact into a momentary kiss. Her eyes were dark as she looked back up at him. She had known he was telling the truth, his blood confirmed it, as it confirmed many other things about him. She had chosen well, and more, she realized, she liked him.

She dropped gracefully into a deep curtsey, bowing her head to the new Prince of Las Vegas

"Your Highness"

Yae blinks quickly, brushing off her street clothes. She suddenly felt very, very underdressed, looking at the major domo outfited man. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

Then, he asks her if she was looking for her master or mistress. "Umh... No... Last I checked, my boss wasn't part of the inviation." Umh... Hello, I'm Korean, not a negro... Whatever. She glanced beyond him stepping out of the elevator, at the others, and the goblets in his hand. "Ooh. Is that red wine? I would like a glass, too." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Hmmm... I guess I'll hang out in the Card Room."

Davos nodded. He extended his hand out to Jazz, to help her stand. "I should be bowing to you. After all, I would not be here if not for you. Please stand."

He liked Jazz, even after their short time of meeting. He felt he could trust her, and in the underworld of vampires, trust was a trait ill misplaced. He smiled at her, not the usual smirk, but a more freindly smile, one of trust, and understanding. They were bound by more than an alligence or friendship. No, now they were bound by blood.

"Now, I believe we have a slight slayer problem we need to solve. What say you?"

Apollo, now fully clothed, wandered into the main body of the casino. It was strange to think that this was the same buiding he had been imprisoned in, and almost as strange to think that this was the sort of place that vampires would take control of. Was this a statement of intent, like the street gangs suddenly mutating into well-dressed, eminently respectable but still horrifically brutal gangsters? Were the vampires going upmarket? He had always thought that he would find them in smoky, noisy gothic-themed nightclubs, hidden in perpetual gloom and the pervasive stench of cheap tobacco and cheap alchohol. But no, here he was, among his kin, in an extravagant-looking Las Vegas casino.

Among the crowd he appeared to be another well-dressed gambler, ready and willing to gamble away the GNP of a medium-sized African country in a single night. However, every step was perfectly choreographed, every stately movement of his head a concious attempt at reconnaissance. His hightened senses were at full alert, picking up every last detail. He could not only see the money changing hands, he could hear it. He could even smell the crisp banknotes as they were laid on the table to be raked in by the house. Most of the gamblers here were non-vampires, unwittingly funding the same night-dwelling terrors that would occasionally emerge to take them. And Apollo walked on. These foolish gamblers did not interest him. Deeming the room he was in entirely without attraction, he walked into the Card Room.

OOC: Oh just how sadistic is Marche. (evil grin )

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Marche blinked at the casual attitude of the young woman. The younger vampires certainly letting their ghouls getfresh with them if they were letting the servants call them boss, he considered sourly. His smile and slight nod of the head was perfectly proper, and not a milimeter more as he lowered the tray so she could make her selectionfrom among the several goblets there on. (A proper butler never carries a glass in his hands, but always on a tray.)

"The gold rim is A positive, the silver rim is AB negative, and the plain rim is O positive with gin. Bombay Sapphire I believe." He murmured

**********************************************************

"I say that we bring the four horsemen against the currs, but first, shallwe set our fox in the henhouse, and at the same time allow me the priviledge of introducing you to those who have survived the first assault" Her eyes as she rose in a graceful flow of heavy silk flashed

[i]She knew, as she was sure he did as well, that what had been started had not yet ended. The unknown and frighteningly knowledgeable hunters were out there waiting. And the power plays anong their own kind were a danger as well. One could never forget vampire politics, though she had mamaged to keep that to a tidy minimum. She had killed her own kind before and had no qualms about doing it again. They were both survivors however, and she had ever intention of staying that way

As she led him to the gathering room, she quietly offered him the second suite on her personal floor. It suited her vanity to die each dawn on the top most floor, directly below the planets largest pillar of light. There were just two suites on that floor and every precaution for her security had been taken, as well as every amenity. However she had alternate residences, carefully concealed, held under names not associated with her in any way, and she let Davos know that they were available to him if he so chose.

Tomorrow would be soon enough though for the transfer of mundane power to the new prince. Given the considerable scope of assets and people under the control of the Prince of Las Vegas, it would take some time to sort every nuance out

For the rest of the night, fot it was barely midnight, she would introduce him to his new subjects, and let him take their measure. They were young and now, very nearly terrified, but on the whole they were better than your average vampire.

Yae quickly glances over the selection, pursing her lips together as she quickly and ginerly snatches up a gold rimmed goblet. "Hmmm. Thanks. If I need anything more, I'll call, okay?"

She wanders past him, into the rest of the private lounge, exploring. Every once in a while, she'll lift the goblet to her mouth, but never driks it, always seeing something new that causes her to lower it again, and watch for a few minute.

In particular, she seems vastly interested in the card room, watching the vampires in what appears to be a high roller game of poker. Hmm. Even if I combined mine and Sae's voucher, I doubt I can afford the bid in.

Taking a seat on a comfy chair, she raises the goblet to her lips once again, her bottom lip touching the outer rim of the goblet, but before she can tilt the cup to let the red liquid flow into her mouth, someone folds out of the game she was watching, which of course causes her to lower the goblet. "Oooh. Look at the size of the ante. I wonder how much money that is..."

OOC: Sorry I havent posted yet, need to get some decent length time to post a good one.

A rather un-assuming looking man clad in black fatigues & a hooded sweatshirt of the same hue casually strode up to the front desk of Jazz's legitimate casino, a large envelope in his right hand. The slight bulge at his hip looked suspiciously like a handgun, hammerless with the modern squared-off design that had become popular with the turn of the century.

The envelope slid across the lavish marble, smoothly settling down directly in front of the clerk...

"Make sure she gets this..."

In bold, red letters, 'ATTN JAZZ' was scribbled across the front in a rather messy fashion. Within where the photographs of the previous night's basement executions of two captured vampires they'd caught trying to establish themselves in the city. The old-fashioned polaroids of a headless female & a bullet-ridden male laying facedown in pools of inky black where nothing short of grusome, only one consumed with malice would commit such a hanis act.

His task completed, the man turned to leave...

Jackson sipped on a glass of Jose Cuervo 1800 as he watched the proceedings in the lower portion, the 'public' area, of his new mistress' casino. The black-clad man caught his eye, as did the suspiciously shaped knot on his hip...

'That uniform looks familiar...'

Flashbacks of his last night with his original mistress played through his mind, accented with equipment specifications & dimensions of the fuckers who'd attacked him...

'Glock 23, forty-five ACP caliber... That bastard's one of those hunter pencil-dicks who killed Virginia...'

Furious, and slightly buzzed from his third round of tequila, the mercenary flew from the bar-stool, charging towards the man's back. His opening attack was with a flying kick aimed at the lower back...

The black-garbed hunter caught the blow squarely in the lower spine, sending him sliding forward across the marble floor. Before he'd quit moving, he'd rolled over & tugged the Glock free from its hip holster...

Jackson's enhanced reflexes kicked into action, pulling the Berretta & snapping off a quick pair of shots into the man...

Jackson's enhanced reflexes kicked into action, pulling the Berretta & snapping off a quick pair of shots into the man...

The shots struck home, the first striking the trigger guard of the pistol & mangling the trigger & a few fingers. The second caught the hunter square in the gut, causing a painful but not instantly fatal wound...

Elsewhere in the hotel, security cameras relayed the sight of weapons drawn and shots fired to vigilant eyes. Internal alarms sounded in those private spaces - but never in public, you didn't panic the public that was rule number one - as doors sealed and polite, cool faced security officers flooded the public area moving to position themselves between the 'incident' and the patrons.


Patrons were courteously, but rapidly ushered to more remote areas by plain clothes security, and all were handed high dollar vouchers for future redemtpion. Fears were soothed, worries calmed, and softly authoritan voices gave precreated explainations that satisfied their listeners - becasue they wanted to be soothed, calmed and reassured that their expensive experience was not going to be disrupted.

Kai strode out of the security office, a trio of special security in a flying wedge on his heels. He had been caught up dealing with the new security chief. And now he was glad that he had parked the new recruit out on the main floor. Jackson was earning his place already. He didn't know what had triggered Jackson, but the man was too disciplined, too savvy to just open up on someone carrying concealed.

On the upper floor of the Luxor, Davos went about meeting and greeting his new "subjects" so to speak. He made a mental promise to himself not to play the same games that his previous prince had, and was cordial to each. He also made a mental tag of everyone, noting who would be good as gunmen, spies, general PR, and who was just in it for fun.

OOC: Tanara, its your call if you want some security type to come up and tell Davos and Jazz whats up. I would think yes, but maybe you want it to go another way.

OOC: It wouldn't be any other way - I'm just trying to give action thats happening in seconds a chance to resolve itself before we get to far in the future upstairs.

********************************************
"Oooh. Look at the size of the ante. I wonder how much money that is..."

"More than yo can 'ford child." A plump but strong hand the color of dark coffee reached out and firmly takes the flute from Yae's hand, setting it gently on the round topped, ivory inlaid side table "AN' yo drink that yo will most greatly regret it."

The accent, and tone had been chosen deliberately, and certainly did not match the crisply tailored suit. It invoked older days far to the east and south of the sere western vista outside, and if you looked at that cherubic countenance you could see her origins. Ester had been a slave in the days of the antebellem south, that had never bothered her and she could make nearly anyone respond respectfully to the completely dictatorial nanny she had once been. One to be obeyed and feared, even if it were never mentioned, for the earning of her scorn by being less than a lady or gentleman was simply Not Done.

Esther took Yae by the left upper arm and 'assissted' her from her seat. "Come with me young lady." And there was a certain doubiousness to the word lady

Yae heaves an exasperated sigh as the hand lays itself on her shoulder, "I have every right to be here... Oh, hey... My drink... Oh, fine fine..." She is dragged away by the older black woman, not putting up any struggles despites her mild protests, obviously not wanting to create any sort of potentionally embareassing scene, waking to keep pace. Darn rich people, and their rich people only clubs... Ah well. She purses her lips, I wonder where she's taking me?

Esther escorted the young inadvertant gate crasher to a small but well stocked library, apparently set for two, and guided Her into one of the pair of leather upholstered chairs.

"Now what are you doing up here? Marche says that you claim that your ...boss...is not here. How did you know where to come then? Was your master or mistress killed in the assault?"

The stern voice and look on her moon face brooked no reluctance to answer on Yae's part.

((OOC: I'm listening to '99 Red Ballons' in German... I love MP3s. :D))

Yae blinked several times after Ester finished, her face going from exasperated submission to outright confusion. "Huh? What do you mean b- AHH!"

Abrutply, she doubles over, grabbing her head with both hand. Her breathing goes heavy, as if in pain, and her hands start to give off 'frost,' as if she were holding Dry ice.

Then, just as suddenly as she started, she stops, her head still down. "Heh heh heh... So, THAT's what going on here?" She says. Yet, there is something different about her. Her voice is still the same, but has an underlaying hint of etherealism to it, as if someone, or something else, was speaking through her. "Two dead vampires... An envelope marked to Jazz at the front desk... Ahh... yes, hunters. Of course." She spoke, more to herself then to Ester. "Five or six. Males all. Hmmm... Make that six or seven. They are joined by... Another. Not of the clan, but helping none the less. 50 grand per set of fangs... That explains alot..."

Finally, she raises her head to look at Ester, her hands lowering from the sides of her face to rest in her lap. Her eyes had changed from her usual brown to a deep pale blue, as if they were frosted over with ice. "Hmphm. Jazz and the new Prince should be informed that there are a group of hunters within the city, with the intention of claiming her head, sans body." Yae wavers, and goes limp from the waist up, leaning over forward, her hands returning to normal.

"Ugggh..." Groaning, her voice and eyes back to normal, Yae rises up again to sit upright. Her nose is bleeding. She raises one hand to manage the side of her head, obviously suffering from a mildly annoying headache... (*HINT*)

Esther snatched a fine linnen napkin from a tray set with two partially drunk glasses, and handed it to Yae.

"Well, well, well" She murmurs hald to herself as she picks up a discretely concealed handset and waits for Marche to answer the intercomm

"Marche, I think I need to see you in the library right away, and contact security to see if an envelope has been left for the Lady at the front desk"


She turned back to Yae, with a frown "Child you have gotten yourself into a world of trouble. Good thing the Lady is going to take you under her wing. A lot of the fearful are going to be wanting to give you the Cassandra treatment."

A private ambulance was scrambled with a few discrete words over a phone line. The physician who had left less than an hour ago hopped aboard and was back out in Las Vegas traffic in just minutes. There had been shots fired and at least one body down. He didn't wonder what had happened, he was paid too well for that.

"Jackson, don't" Kai called to forestall follow up rounds. They needed the man alive, to find out what he knew. One of the night clerks approached with the letter that the man had just dropped off. Kai pocketed it with a nod and an absent minded thank you

Marche hung up the phone after recieving the information that the envelope was in Kai's possession. He quickly sought out Jazz and discretely passed along the information concerning the envelope. He also advised her that Esther was with a young female stranger and needed to see him. He would let her know of the import of that as soon as he himself knew.

"Thank you Marche. I'll let Davos know." Jas knew that Kai would bring the envelope and the delivery man to the secure zone next to the main armory, down in the private sub basement level

Once Marche had left to join Esther, Jazz moved back over to Davos, a polite knock knock at the edges of his mind. This was certainly information that needed very private transmission

((OOC: A bit later than I'd hoped....Er, I'll continue on after the little meeting, right WA? Any problem with the post I can make the changes, now to upset the order of things...))

James sighed as he strolled down the sidewalk, staring around at the passing people constantly. A picture of his first assigned target was on his mind as he scanned the faces of the crowds of people living the Vegas night life. He was armed with a pair of Berretta M96FS, concealed under his black jacket. He bumped shoulders with a man and muttered a polite excuse me, then stopped abruptly. He turned and stared at the man, who continued down the sidewalk.

James turned on his heel and followed the man. Seems to be a tad drunk, he thought as he watched his target, who seemed to have had a bit much to drink. James followed the man to a hotel, one of the cheaper ones tourists would stay at. He watched the man enter and elevator and groggily push a button. The doors closed. James walked past the front desk of the hotel to the nearest flight of stairs and ran up the stairs as fast as he could to the next floor. He reached the next floor and rushed into the hallway towards the elevator and pushed a button. A second later the doors opened. James casually entered the elevator and stood besides the drunken vampire.

"Buenos noches," the man said drunkenly. James nodded politely as the doors closed. As the elevator rose between floors, he pushed the STOP button and ripped out a pistol.

"Antonio Gonzalez, you seem to have left your lil drinking party a bit too early," he said as his target suddenly sobered up when he realized what was happening. James squeezed the trigger of his Berretta, sending a bullet into the chest. He fired another shot into the chest, then stepped back. He quickly tucked away his pistol and pulled out a knife. He knelt and, after taking the two fangs as proof of his kill, he hit a button on the elevator wall and the doors opened. James came face to face with another man.

"Quick, this man's been shot, see to him, I'll get a doctor!" James said quickly. He rushed down the hall, leaving the man confused for a moment. He walked passed the front desk of the hotel and back onto the sidewalk and blended into the crowds of people.

Target one down, he thought. God knows how many more to go. Mabye we should just let these guys do their thing in a max security prison, have their fill and do us all a favor at the same time...

Marche stepped into the library where Esther and the young trespassing female waited. Esther met him at the door and in a low voice told him what Yae had said.

"She doesn't act like a vodoun, I'd know if the loas were about. I think she is a precognative, and now she knows too much."

"Dinner or Dance?" Marche querried imperturbably

Esther scowled at him "Neither. I think Jazz will find this one useful."

Davos felt Jazz's presence, and turned to her. He had a feeling something wasn't quite going to plan, and nodded, allowing her to speak in private, out in the open.

*Davos, theres been a shooting downstairs. We've captured a 'delivery boy' - he left us an envelope, and Jackson is certain that he is one of the ones that slew his previous mistress, Victoria* She sent to him, more than a hint of grim satisfaction in her mental voice, as she explained who Jackson was and Victoria had been.

*He's still alive and they're taking him down to our secure area. Would you care to question him?*

Apollo heard the shots from where he was sitting, and immediately stood up, reaching for the pistol that he always kept loaded in his pocket. It wasn't there.

Shit! Jazz must have taken it with my other clothes.

He had been in situations like this before, and they were bad news. A crazy coming in off the street would have fired a whole clip, not just two bullets. This attacker had a purpose, and that purpose was most likely to kill as many vampires as he or she could. Hunters were normally just goth kids with hyperactive imaginations and no real training, but he had run into the other kind too many times to dismiss this threat. Among the wannabes was a solid core of trained and deadly professionals. They were well-armed, quick, stealthy, and while they did not possess the superior physical and mental attributes, they were adept at levelling the playing field until they were a match for his kind.

And they hunted in packs. While it was unlikely that there would be another hunter around, it was entirely possible. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready for action. He began to walk across the room, listeniong intently for any sound of a second hunter.

James sat a bar now, finishing his drink, a shot of brandy. He glanced around the bar, hoping to see another target and make this a quick night but the bar was filled with mortals. These blood lovers blend too damn well...

The hunter rested a five at the bar and stood from his chair. He took a final glance around the bar and left through the doors and stepped lightly on the sidewalk. Man I needed that drink... He thought as he leaned against the wall near the doors and pulled out a list of local vampires. His eyes stopped on the name and description of a vampire that stayed to the alleys and fed on the low lifes of the city.

"Damn, the ones I don't mind existing..." he muttered. Ah well, a job's a job. James started down the street to the nearest alley to begin his search....

((OOC: Sorry I was gone so long. Something came up and I couldn't get online for the entire time... but, I'm back now. :D))


Yae blotted the blood on her face, quietly sitting there. She was confused, scared, but mostly confused. Everything had went black, it was like she was sleeping yet aware of it. What bothered her the most was that she could tell she was talking, yet couldn't hear what she said, or what was said to her.

Then, when she 'awoke,' the woman who had brought her here had given her a napkin, and was saying something about a 'Cassandra Treatment.' Now, she spoke to another man, Yae couldn't hear what was being said, but she didn't feel like it could be anything good... Maybe they're a Mafia? They have to be Mafia! And... I'm trespassing? Oh no! Sae! Please Sae, be okay... I'll... I'll be there, as soon as I can... She looked at her hands, focusing on the air around them, the very surface of her palms...

She imanaged them freezing over, turning into ice, then that ice expanded itself from her hand, and over an imaginary body... While externally, nothing was visible, it seemed she was just staring rather intently at her hands, she was mentally quite ready to turn the first person who threatened her into a block of ice... "... I wan-" She started to speak, then something sparked in her mind, halting her mid-word. What if they don't know Sae is here yet? I can't endanger her like this... "Erm... I would like something to drink, please..." She recovered quickly, offering a weak smile to her kind hostess...

Esther looked closely at the young woman, noteing how pale she was, and that her hands shook. The nosebleed was of concern as well, though it seemed to have stopped

"Here dear, let's get you some ice water and asprin. Have you had dinner yet?"

She nodded to Marche who left briefly and returned with the promised water and tylenol instead of asprin

"Asprin is a blood thinner" He explained as he offered Yae the glass and two capsules of the pain reliever

Yae politely shook her head no to the question of dinner. "The last thing I had to eat was a McDonald's BigMac back in Needles, California."

Marche returned with the promised glass of water, and a couple of pills for her. She accepts both, but only drinks the water. It's also noticable that once her hands touched the glass cup, it began to chill, almost to the point that the ice was a bit redundent. She took a sip of the water. "I don't take any sort of medecine. Never had need for them..."