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Coben sighed.
His hand opened, and the knife rolled out of it, the solid metal making a soft sound on the ground.
Was this... neonate... trying to sway a Lord?
Sacramento had been a nightmare.
Time and again, he'd tried to seize his Destiny.
He was tired of failing. Dillon Connery would not join the list of those that had thwarted him.
"Ash. Me. NOW."
Dillon rolls Resolve + Composure + Blood Potency to Resist.
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Dillon realizes his blunder too late. He let himself become distracted. Frustrated. Rushed. While he is watching for telltale signs of intent from the nearly ruined Kindred, he makes the mistake of looking into an untrusted Ventrue's eyes.
It is a juvenile mistake, and the anger that had been boiling beneath the surface of his psyche finally flares. Dillon tries to use the rage to his advantage, bolstering his mental defenses with a wall of seething will, but it just isn't enough. Coben simply tipped the wall over on him.
Grabbing his knife from the ground in an alien wave of desire for the Final Death of another, Dillon slams the bowie home. He uses the gleam of moonlight on skull as a target.
Assuming this is a "killing blow", since Coben isn't likely to resist...
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"I believe that-" Sidor started, when he heard the noises echoing down the bluetooth. Was Connery being attacked by Coben? It didn't sound like he was in any pain. "Vat es happinink?" The three words came out much more heavily accented than usual, although his voice didn't reveal anything other. He was concerned for his congregation member.
And the Nosferatu was starting, he realised on some, vague, detached level, to get annoyed.
Perhaps he should start classes for Kindred. 'How a unit works'. 'Espionage 101'. 'The Masquerade and You: How To Not Get Us All Slaughtered By Armies with Flamethrowers'.
It had never occurred to him that things like that might not be natural for another Vampire. It had never occurred to him that perhaps other people's minds didn't work that way.
These moments of epiphany were also starting to get on his last nerve.
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There's a look of satisfaction as Dillon reaches for the knife, and Neil turns his eyes up to the stars in the sky.
"Leave out..."
Whatever he was going to say, Dillon interrupts. The knife skips off of hard bone and into an eye socket.
In the darkness, the body seems to blur and shrink as it decomposes into ash. Within moments, Dillon is staring at a nice, dirty suit and handcuffs.
OOC
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Flinging what ash he can off of his knife, Dillon sheathes the blade and collects Coben's effects as quickly as possible, bundling everything into the suit jacket. He wasn't about to play games with another creature tonight who so adamantly refused to be helpful. A pitiful Damned desiring a fast-track to his own judgement can be obliged. The cops had been frustrating, but at least they had the excuse of ignorantly doing their job.
He would probably regret lashing out in anger, later, but for now, their best bet is to seal up the breaches get out of here. Backup for Sacramento's finest would be due within minutes.
"Nevermind." Dillon mutters gruffly into the headset. He packs the bundle under an arm, and takes stock in his surroundings. "I'm coming to you. Location, sir?"
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OOC
Sidor's expression, hidden beneath the shadows, did not move. It didn't even twitch.
"We are three streets north of the apartments. You will notice us, I am sure. Then, you will explain what just happened," the Nosferatu Bishop instructed. If Connery had been attacked, he was treating it extremely likely. Communication was important. How else was he supposed to theorise the logistics of a situation, if he did not have all the facts?
I am going to assume that he is bringing Coben and did not just let him escape. It would be unfair, to assume.
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