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  #1  
Unread 12th of December, 2009, 06:22
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Joe Carter

[Starter - what does Joe do when he wakes?]
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Unread 13th of December, 2009, 16:34
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Joe wakes from deadly fever dreams startled. His ear ring echoes of explosions and dead soldiers. He's up on his feet before he realizes he's in no cage. The bitter blackened wounds pulse and throb.

Joe wakes up angry. Joe always wakes up angry.

He pulls his dirty, tattered jack around him as the evening's first round of shakes run their course.

I'm closer baby. Just a little bit farther now.

Joe wrenches the door open with a little more force than needed, but this is a Brujah house and they're probably used to stuff being broken. He instinctively hides his battle scars in a house of predators and gruffly asks for Stacks.

"You got Nosferatu contacts or do I need to go find Morgan and ask why the hell he and the Tremere up and vanished while we were storming the fort?"
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Unread 15th of December, 2009, 08:47
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The kine give Joe a wide berth as he blunders down the hallway looking for Stacks. He finds the other man sitting on a leopard-print sofa with a cell phone in one hand, the ample chest of a breather doll in the other. He lifts that hand to hold up an index finger in Joe's direction, finishing up the call. "Aaiiite."

He stands, shoving the woman off his lap onto the floor. She smiles as if she likes that treatment, rolling to her feet with an athletic grace. Joe's thirsty again; his body burns with the need to stitch together his rent flesh. Stacks steps forward to clasp hands with Joe, as if they were arm-wrestling the in the air, if he follows the gesture.

"Lookin' good, my wiggah. Yeah, we got a meet, real soon. Safe passage. They freakin, bruh." Stacks smiles, laughs, presumably at the discomfiture of the Nos. "Whateva it is, they can't handle. Friend in need, and allat."

He lets go of Joe's hand. "Fuck them suits, fuck allavem. Ain' one of them worth a damn when it counts. Don't care 'bout no faggot beatnik. We gonna lick up the lowdown, locate this thing, then drop the hammer. Aaiitte?"

Last edited by Wired*Nun; 15th of December, 2009 at 12:34.
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Unread 15th of December, 2009, 10:13
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There's a camaradie between blooded men.

"Aaitte," Joe grunts. "We going strapped?" The Gangrel wrings his hands angrily, "Finally ran up against something these couldn't take down. Looks like we need to be packing auto to jack this motha in the teeth."

I like it this way. No suits. No Tremere. Just me bringing the pain.

Joe's eyes settle on the doll. He licks his lips and shakes it away, "When do we bounce?"
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Unread 15th of December, 2009, 13:04
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"Not yet. This is a recon, an a confab. Once we talk to the uglies, locate this thing, then we go in heavy." His eyes darken. "We all go in. Doc was good people, for a breather. Your...your little girl, too."

Stacks reaches for the woman, hooded eyes never leaving Joe's. He grabs her arm, shoves her at Carter. "Go on, man, do your thing. This is Lisa. She fix you right up."

Lisa turns the shove into an embrace, molding herself to Joe's body. Her smile is genuine, like her lust. The craving seizes him as she lifts the inside of her elbow to his mouth. The veins throb under the thin skin, and it's all he can see.
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Unread 15th of December, 2009, 14:19
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Joe plunges his fangs through her tender skin and drinks deeply. Lisa's heart beat becomes deafening. Joe gnashes against his hunger and draws back. He licks the wound and is wracked by guilt as he sees his daughter's face on Lisa's body.

He steps back in self loathing before seizing his composure. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thanks," he grunts.

Another night's rest.

Joe looks at Stacks, "We go in. It doesn't come out. I gotcha."
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Unread 19th of December, 2009, 04:45
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"Any time, baby," Lisa breathes. She sways over to Stacks, who stands a couple of steps away with his back turned, and whispers something in his ear. He grunts at her, then shoves her away gently and slaps her backside lightly.

He turns around at Joe's words.

"Yeah. Let's make the meet."

A half hour later they pull into a Metro DC water substation, by the simple expedient of knocking the lock off the gate with a hammer. Stacks pulls the Escalade between the low blockhouse buildings where it's not easily seen, after closing the gate and hanging the lock and chain so it looks undisturbed.

"My guy spoda be 'roun here somewhere..."

A dim figure detatches itself from a doorway where they noticed nothing a moment before, moving silently over to the two men standing by their vehicle. Its face is in darkness, and the clothes are worn and shabby things of former quality, not noticably dirty. The hood of the old black cashmere coat is up, and the voice that emanates from it is low, male, breathy.

"What up, my nig?"

Stacks grunts. "Don' mock me, Amos," he says good-naturedly. "I'm ghetto, I ain't stupid."

The figure chuckles, then the two men clasp hands.

"This is Joe," Stacks goes on, hooking a thumb Carter's direction. "Friend of his was one of the...victims of that mess."

Stacks goes on to describe the events of yesterday as he experienced them. "...and then it went into the storm drain. One of those big ones kids fall down inta."

Amos turns away, pacing for a moment, muttering. "Lost three retainers last night. Eaten, down to the shoes. The thing doesn't like shoes." A dry chuckle again. "They shot at it. Shot it, probably, found the shell casings. It went deep down, under the water. It's hard to go in the water, you know? Can't track it, too dangerous to follow it...have to just keep vigilant, be ready."

Stacks look at Joe, as if to see if he has anything to say.

Last edited by Wired*Nun; 5th of January, 2010 at 01:42.
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Unread 5th of January, 2010, 04:22
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Joe grunts not really feeling sorry for the Nosferatu's sewer rats. He shoves his hands into his pockets, "Be ready? Bullets don't stop it. Claws don't cut it. I 'spect fire won't do much."

"Problem is that we don't know what the hell it is or how to kill the damn thing short of ripping it's fucking head off. And that didn't work too good the last time."

"Lupines go full metal jacket. Don't run neither. They don't work this way. Damned if I know what does. My money says that a lick's behind it all. But makes no sense going after the Doc. Unless he was a better liar than I give him credit for, he was about as clueless as the rest of us."

Carter growls with frustration. He forces his anger into a tight little ball in his gut. Think like a hunter. It's not an animal. But then Joe, no one's better at hunting men. "I hate this conspiracy bullshit."

He shakes his head, "So, we can't track it. Only choice is to get out ahead of it. Figure who the next target is and be there with some krypto-nite to shove down its fucking throat. Cut its strings and turn it against its handler."

Last edited by Wired*Nun; 6th of January, 2010 at 02:14.
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  #9  
Unread 6th of January, 2010, 02:28
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"Yeah...or sucker it out somehow," Stacks grunts.

The Nos responds, musingly. "But why did it go after the good Doctor? He was a willworker by all accounts, and a philanthropist of sorts. Did he have enemies? Does this thing eat breathers with supernatural qualities? Are we kindred not on its list of appetites? What could we use as bait?"

"Another mumbo-jumbo?"

The Nos' voice smiles, even while his face remains hidden. "Yesss...."
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  #10  
Unread 7th of January, 2010, 09:58
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Joe clenches his jaw. Using breathers wasn't his style. Fury ebbs and just disgust for the 'wrongness' of the whole thing settles in its place. "Apparently the Doc's...mumbo-jumbo...wasn't up to snuff," he grunts. "Where we going to find another magic man?"

It ate your ghouls, but it murdered my daughter. It's being controlled, and I don't know if just killing it and not its master's enough to quench my hunger.
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Unread 8th of January, 2010, 07:04
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"Huh," grunts Stacks. "Amos kin find out anything, if his Elders want him to."

"Yessss...almost anything not deliberately hidden. The willworkers are amazingly careless...but we would have to find one that few would miss or mourn...that may take some time."

Stacks looks sidelong at Carter before returning his attention to Amos. "That whole s'nario gonna be tricky...you's always too damn tricky for yer own good." He slams one fist into another in frustration. "Tell you what, when you got somethin', you call me. We'll go organize the muscle."

"All right...oh, by the way, the suits might have a witness of some kind. I hear. Some old breather woman. But you didn't hear it from me."

Amos fades into the darkness, leaving less than a memory.

"Hunnnhh...witness...I need to talk to my boss...get some leverage to have a talk with this...witness..."
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Unread 8th of January, 2010, 13:01
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Joe shakes his head angrily as he stalks back to the car. He slams the door, "Useless. Not any better than dealing with the Tremere. Two faced bastards. All of 'em."

"Shawna wouldn't like it. Not like this. I'm going to let them piss on her memory with their manipulative bullshit."

A bit of the old soldier's pride runs roughshod over the junkie animal, "Look, I know I owe you. I'll get you back if I'm not dead. I won't stir up any more shit on your turf, but if this is how it's going down, I want no part of it. I'll go back to doing things my way."

"If you need to talk to someone, drop me off at the next subway term. I'll just find one of the suits and make it awfully painful for them if they don't tell me who this kine is."
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Unread 9th of January, 2010, 04:06
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Stacks frowns. "Bruh, you ain't out in the burbs no more. This is DC. It's all p'litical. You want to twist arms, go talk to Morgan [Art Morgan, the Gangrel Primogen in DC] and get some top cover. Like I'm doin'. Or just stick with me, you'll get yer chance."

He starts the Escalade, rolls it out to the gate. "But it's your call, man. Open the gate, yo?" He drives through the gate when Carter opens it, picking him up after he closes it.

The drive in silence for a few minutes before he pulls up near a Metro. "Ain' no subway, neither. This ain't New Yawk. Metro is the closest thing...but you're better off with taxis." He pulls out a roll of bills, holds it out to Joe. "Here's some scratch. Naw, don' worry about it. Money's easy. Somebody got your back, that's hard."

"Up to you."

Last edited by Wired*Nun; 13th of January, 2010 at 02:43.
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Unread 9th of January, 2010, 09:42
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Joe takes a deep breath into his shriveled lungs. He props one arm on the door and runs his eyes as his gut throbs. He leans back on the head rest, "Nah man. I'm cool. Drive."

He rides in silence for a couple blocks, "Sorry. You've been straight up, and I've been shitting on your hospitality. One vampire cess pit blends into the next after awhile. Haven't had to deal with decent folks--including blood--for a grip. I thought I could keep my shit together long enough to get this over 'n done with on my own. But I can't."

"The rat's plan to use some poor schmuck like the doc don't settle with me. Only people that aren't missed in any outfit are the grunts at the bottom. Or those who don't get down on their knees for those in power." Like you. Like me.

Joe stares out the window watching the colored lights go by wondering, hoping that it'd all be over soon.
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Unread 20th of January, 2010, 06:25
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Stacks stares at Joe curiously. "Pers'nally, I don' care if some cheap trick gets offed; what did they ever do for us? But I hear ya; can't let the Beast take over." He suddenly changes tone, like a stage actor, to something faux-British. "That way lies madness!" He laughs, but his gaze is haunted even as he turns it to look forward. He puts the SUV in gear and drives. "And all's queer but me and thee..."

A Shakespearian-trained Brujah...there's more to this guy than meets the eye.

"I got a idea...a favor from you. You hearda Art Morgan, right? I think we should ask him to talk to the doggies...maybe they know something about this lizard...can you arrange that? Some bat-signal or something?"
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Unread 22nd of January, 2010, 05:48
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"S'not even that man. It's just when you start figuring that folks are disposable, you aren't much different than the licks in charge. I prefer to only dispose of those that crossed me...or get in my way."

"Yeah, sure. I can find Art. His van can always be found where the best drugs are. Since he vanished last night after pawning the beatnik off on us, he might be amendable."
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Unread 22nd of January, 2010, 07:38
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" 'Cause that thing was breathin', an' maybe the doggies know about it, bein' all natural an' all. Hell, I read horror books, 'long time ago...if werewolves are real, why not a were-alligator? Or sumpin. Though this one was smart enough to run off when it started getting gangbanged. No rage there...coldblooded, yo."

He rounds a corner, and the streets start looking more familiar, getting into the edge of Georgetown. "So where he at, you think?" he asks rhetorically.

They pull up to a group of loiterers, at the same time Stacks cranks up some rap in the Escalade. He slides on his sunglasses, and rolls down his window. "Yo yo yo, what up my nigs? Simmy, c'mere." He waves to a bored-looking breather with a 'fro-comb stuck in his hair and his pants around his knees.

They converse in nearly impenetrable street dialect for a moment, then he rolls the window back up and drives away. "The magic bus is a couple streets over, he say." Three turns later they find themselves in an alley similar to the one he last saw Art's VW microbus in; not the same, but it might as well be. At least three ways out, plus a fire escape above the vehicle and a loose manhole cover nearby. Art was never a fool, even if he played one on TV.

Stacks parks the SUV close to the wall, blocking his own exit door. "Go talk to him, man, I wait for ya here, aiite?" He shuts off the vehicle lights, leaving the alley in semidarkness.

There is movement near the microbus; someone peeking out from behind it. The side door is open, indicating business is being done.
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Unread 22nd of January, 2010, 15:34
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"All right," Joe grunts as his boots his the pavement. The grizzled vet, never a fool, puts his back to building wall a goodly distance away and waits for the elder hippy to finish his deal in privacy. Even among savages, manners still count. Especially among savages.

As Joe tends to do when he's not preoccupied, he drifts off into memories of the past that persist in intruding on the present. Wracked by withdrawl, he sets his mind on the hole in his gut to ward off the wailing ghosts of the long dead.

At least the pain's something keep me here.

Joe perks up his senses ready to make for one of those exits should shit go south. Only after Morgan's ready for him does his stroll up.
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Unread 23rd of January, 2010, 06:51
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Art waves Joe over as a couple of dim figures slouch away toward the far alley mouth. He slides his butt into the open side door and onto the seat, waving Joe toward the opposite bench. He looks tired; exhausted, even. He stinks, too, which is saying something for Joe to notice over his own ragged ass.

"Man, I figgured you'd show up soon. Spent all day chasing that thing, ain't slept. You look fresh," he says with a half smile. "The bruh can come over, if he wanna, it's cool."
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Unread 23rd of January, 2010, 10:07
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Can't tell if it's better than the patchouli.

"Fresh. Yeah. Like a private's boxers fresh in the suck," Joe motions back to the Brujah. "Dude lemme have a bite to take the edge off. Provided I can find a couple meals, I should be okay in a few days."

"Wanted to know if you'd parley with the Lupines."
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Unread 26th of January, 2010, 05:44
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Art smiles, suddenly feral, focused. "Yeah, that's what somebody always wants. That's okay...gives me an edge. They never know how far the garou will go for me...and that's how I like it. You askin' for yourself, your buddies...or did somebody ask you to ask?"

Stacks steps up at that moment, saying, "I asked. Nobody else."

Art give him a lazy wave. "Hey, Tobias. Been a while. Okay, for you gents, I'll look into it."

Stacks goes on, "Yeah, I was wonderin' if this thing could be some kinda were-lizard. If there is such a thing. Maybe the doggies know."

Art looks thoughful. "Maybe...though I got another angle. Might not matter either way. I just got word from a friend of a friend. You guys want to back a play of mine?"

The request is so unexpected that Stacks drops his jaw. Although Art is well known for his unofficial "archons" that he commissions to accomplish certain tasks, he is almost legendary for working alone on everything.

"You ever want to see the inside of the Chantry?"

Stranger and stranger...
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  #22  
Unread 2nd of February, 2010, 11:12
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Although he's accustomed to Morgan's antics Carter's jaw drops, "The Chantry?" He tries to recover from his surprise. "You know I got your back, man, but...damn. That's...just...damn."

"Screw it. If it gets me closer to Shawna's killer, I'd even walk right into the middle of Lupine happy hunting ground."
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Unread 3rd of February, 2010, 07:08
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"Good. I don't think they'll cause me too much pain, but they'll squawk, and the more backup I got, the better. And our bloodmage brethren are too secretive as it is; I think there are others that will give me cover, after the fact. We just have to be the bold risk-takers we are." He gives a tight, fake cheshire smile, squinting his eyes, catlike.

Stacks takes a step back. "Unh. Aaite." Joe can tell he's playing off a sudden uneasiness. "Lemme..." he pulls out his cell phone.

"No." Art puts out a hand. "This is just us. There will be witnesses, we're going in the front door; no need to get anyone else involved until the last minute. Let's go...we'll take mine." He gestures toward the microbus.

Stacks looks back at his Escalade. "Oh, man...someone gonna strip my wheels in this neighborhood."

"Gimme the keys," says Art. Stacks hands them over. Art tosses the keys down the alleyway away from the Escalade. They are lost in the darkness, but they don't fall to the ground. They just...disappear.

"It'll be taken care of."

Stacks looks at him as if he's gone mad, then shakes his head in bafflement, taking a deep breath for a theatrical sigh. "Aaaiiite."

Joe has an inkling of what just happened; he'd seen Garou appear out of thin air before, and disappear into it as well. He knew they had some kind of alternate dimension they could access, that they called the Umbra. Maybe Art could do it too...or maybe there were unseen friends watching.

They pile in to the VW. Its engine clatters to life, sounding like an anemic lawnmower, but it propels them down the street well enough, and out into the traffic. Art is an oddly timid driver, or maybe he just doesn't want cop trouble. He sticks to speed limits, only changes lanes when he has to, and doesn't run any yellows.

Joe sees Stacks looking back a couple times. He catches Joe looking at him, shakes his head. "Thought I saw..." he trails off. Snorts with muffled laughter.

Last edited by Wired*Nun; 4th of February, 2010 at 02:26.
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  #24  
Unread 3rd of February, 2010, 15:49
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"Don't worry. Best way to get through it is to play out the trip. Not fight it." Joe gets comfortable in stripped down bucket seat. "'Sides we're with Morgan. Only kindred I'd even consider storming the fort with."

He shakes his head nursing his side, "He's not kidding when he says we got back up, so let's revel in the one time we'll ever get to roll up and put the wizards in their place. Cause they have long memories, and life'll get more interesting from here on out."
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Unread 4th of February, 2010, 02:37
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"Yeah..." Stacks mumbles, looking out the window at the damp streets and bundled breathers. "I'd feel better if I'da gotten my own backup...hope peeps is watchin' the front door. Don' like these hand-wavers..." he trails off.

I guess everyone's got something to be afraid of, if it comes right down to it.

"He's not kidding when he says we got back up, so let's revel in the one time we'll ever get to roll up and put the wizards in their place. Cause they have long memories, and life'll get more interesting from here on out."
Morgan flashes Joe that tight smile again as he rounds a corner, then reaches into a beat-up plastic cooler and pulls out a two-liter soda bottle. The wrapping has been stripped off and the streetlights reveal its deep crimson tint. He hands it to Joe.

It's warm...just a tad under body temperature.

"Drink up, dude," Morgan says, putting the doper personna back on for a moment. "It'll fix you right up. But keep it together, it's really good shit."

He pulls another bottle out, screws the top off and starts drinking in measured swallows as he drives.

Stacks stares at him for a moment as he does it, then shruggs and goes back to looking at the passing streets.
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