Secrets of Below

[Alice Hart]

Amethyst sunglasses perched upon a too-perfict nose, while a folding cane rested loosely betwixt bone-pale fingers. A haunt leaned against a lamppost, her colorless pallor and ghostly locks, a glowing beacon in the slice of yellow lamplight.

The scant kine that wandered through these barren streets knew better then to come close, that primal sense that kept humanity alive throughout the ages would keep them far, far away from the starving haunt waiting, for her cousin to arrive at the corner she'd specified so she could give a tour of the Necropolis to the Domain's newest Haunt.

She'd made Robert promise stay Below, but she doesn't know if he kept his word. The Cloak was a wonderful...and troublesome thing.

Waiting in a world of perpetual darkness the Morlock hums, her hollow voice is carried by the warm and gentle breath of Zephyrus...

...and dose nothing to entice the kine to draw closer.

[Alice Hart]

While the Sanctified thug couldn't feel Alice's superior Beast, she could feel his, and if she hadn't already been waiting on his presence she might have tried to slice open his throat for the indignity of sharing a space with such a pitiable monster.

She was waiting for him, and so she let the Wraith thrash, and trusted in the Chains that bound it.

"Not to long Mister Longstreet." She straightens herself out of her lean, and nods to the man. "This way please." The Doll begins to walk. They were still blocks out, and she knew without a guide the Shadows that she'd bound to the Aboveground entrance would keep it hidden from a bumbling searcher.

Alice leads, and expects the Name-Thief to follow.

The cane meets the ground in front of her, Alice allows the illusion of it's need guide her, even though she, and the Haunt beside her knew it to be a lie.

The Doll moves from the comer they'd met at, and farther and farther away from the worn, but up kept houses. Towards a decapitated slice of neglect. A Neighborhood of forgotten houses, the sight and stench of it all more evidence that nothing, and no one ventures close.

Lead by the blind in a silence that seemed all to common for the Doll, only for both to be broken abruptly as they stop in front of an unremarkable house. Faded siding, crooked shingles the wood on the outside rotted through. "This is the Aboveground entrance. You will use it." Alice leads him onward up the rotten wooden steps, the nails rusted and sticking out. "There is a sewer exit that is only for the Clan. It is secret, and only for emergencies."

She opens the door, what is on the inside fails to match the outside.

The house is still worn, but it's cared for. The lines a simple, with a Victorian flair. Alice leads Longstreet through the rooms, past a dried and dark forever to be there blood stain. Though the animals that had once been piled up as a warning have been removed.

She leads him farther still, into a shadowy corner, carefully hidden from view by strange angles, at the end of this shadowed hall is a door. It is metal, heavy and pristine. "This is the entrance." Alice moves her hands towards a pocket, "and this, is your key." Alice hands him a simple key to fit the padlock that secured the door.

She waits for the thuggish aura'd haunt to test his key, and open the door. She wouldn't use her's because Longstreet needed to know that this wasn't a fake key, or a trick of some sort.

Once the door's been opened, Alice takes the lead once more. Down, and down and down. Metal grated steps, echo chillingly in the darkness. A landing appears abruptly, two paths are open, though Alice pauses, because this, this was where the tour would begin.

"Welcome to the Deep Kingdom."

[Robert Cross]

Cross might've followed her without notice. Easily. They both know this.

But, in a relationship like theirs, one between two Monsters possessed of unholy power, trust is key. To break that trust would be to invite any number of disasters. So, Cross honors her wishes and stays underground, in the Caldarium, silent and motionless.

And besides, the Burned Man knows that Alice can take care of herself.

At first, these are the thoughts he dwells on while he waits. That, and the delicacy of this meeting. The complicated and intersecting lines of Domain responsibility, family, faith, and love.

But, eventually, he forces his mind to go blank. He sharpens his senses so as to follow their progress once his Priscus and his newest family member begin their descent.

Let them come. He will not stir from his meditative state until Alice and Longstreet enter the Caldarium itself.

[Alice Hart]

"You know," Alice begins, a thread of faux-wryness could be found within her hollow voice, "I don't know if you're being sarcastic or not."

Alice snaps the folding cane closed and takes the sunglasses from their perch, here Below, she didn't need to hide. Stepping forward she tosses them onto a table that sat just off where the metal grated steps ceased.

"Once, our Kingdom was grand. Everything a Necropolis could be, ours was. The Underground, different then the Necropolis, was a Regency. The Caldarium, Elysia. We held Court. We were the strongest Clan in the Domain. Kenneth Gilroy, Garrick Malorn, myself, Robert Cross. Joseph Greenberg, Jack Karrigan." Stalking forward, looking much like a pacing predator, Alice leads them down the newly cleared path, and farthing into the catacombs. "One by one they all left. Some, with no warning or reason."

There was an implication within the Doll's words. One that the thuggish aura'd haunt could easily glean.

She knew why Robert left now, and Garrick left a note.

"Above, politics and Covenants are all ways to divide us. But you need to remember that we thrive Below. We are Nosferatu."

"This used to be where Gilroy's Dark Temple resided." Now it was simply a collapsed ruin. It's a story that is retold every time she stops, pressing a hand against stone and debris. The Bleak Annles, the Garbage Pit, the many sepulchers - with only one remaining.

"Recently Robert Cross returned. This..isn't something that is widely known. But he is as he once was, my Whip." Then to press in that their very different faith meant nothing to her, she'd keep hers, and he, his, and they didn't need to make war on it. "He is also a recent convert to the Lancea et Sanctum. Actually that is the reason he left in the first place. Bishop Gilroy was gone, and there was no one else who could see to his...initiation."

Then in warning, "Expect him to be punished. He needs to see the Prince and the Reeve. When he left...he left a position of power within the Domain, and he gave no warning."

Their very short tour loops around to where they began, though Longstreet could easily tell that the path the Doll had lead him on was the most direct, and the most easiest to overlook. The catacombs twisted and turned, winding this way and that. Leading to dead ends and kill boxes.

This time as they stop at the landing, Alice leads him along the other path.

"This is the way to the Caldarium. There are flames lit." Alice says in warning. "Gilroy instructed they stay lit to remind all who came that we are damned. Or something like that. I keep them lit now...to remember." continuing down the hall Alice finally makes her way to the pinnacle of dark serenity.

Concrete benches sit along the wall while dim lighting sets the necessary mood. Beyond appearances though there is a peace to location that goes beyond its appearance. The pure water of a pool glistens serenely, reflecting the golden lights set into the wall. Here, their Curses grate less. Here, the cooling blues are reflected upon the walls, even as the red-orange of flames flicker, creating dancing shadows.

Alice knows this, in memory, even if in that breife time the Necropolis was more that the Caldarium was once perfict, a beauty beyond compare. Now it only remind so in memory.

There was still much to be done to make this kingdom grand again.

[Robert Cross]

Cross sits, statue still, for an indeterminate amount of time, listening to their voices as Alice leads Longstreet through what remains of the Necropolis.

Even with his hearing enhanced to an impossible level, it is hard to make out what is being said. The benighted passages and echoing tunnels of the Underground go a long way toward garbling the sense of their conversation. After a while, their talk becomes another one of the Necropolis sounds. Like the rats that occasionally skitter and squeal in the further dark.

Finally, they enter Caldarium.

For a beat, Cross does not seem to notice them. Then, he rises from one of the stone benches, swallowing a growl when he feels Longstreet's exposed Beast. He moves forward, toward them, through washes of blue and orange light, letting the soothing atmosphere of the space work to calm his Monster.

As much as he would like to come close, take up a position at Alice's side, Cross forces himself to stop with a little distance between himself and the newly arrived Kindred. "Priscus Hart, Bishop Longstreet. Good evening." His greeting, the titles he uses, are carefully chosen: here, Alice is leader of the Family first and foremost. And Longstreet, while new to the Domain, is still his spiritual superior.

"How do you find the Necropolis?" Is he asking Alice what she thinks of his work on the Catacombs, or is he asking Longstreet his opinion of the former Deep Kingdom? It is unclear.

[Alice Hart]

Alice hoped Longstreet understood her veiled words.

Once, Above and Below they were one Clan, and every soul in the Domain knew that. Then, suddenly the numbers that made others fear then...vanished. Above, among the throngs of other monsters they couldn't appear to be united. Below was the only place where the Masques could fall. Below was the only place they were safe.

"Robert, good evening." From how he'd risen from his place and walked over, Alice knew she hadn't been followed under the Cloak. Though, with how long - and short the tour had been, Alice wondered if Robert had followed her, then disappeared into the Caldarium as soon as she and Longstreet had disappeared down the opposite tunnel. "I haven't seen the tunnels so clear and passable since you left."

A happy smile, but upon the Doll's ceramic features, it's too-wide-and-all-too-fake.

"I'm glad to hear it." a smooth, strings pulled nod. "It was all Gilroy. It was his vision. I'm-we're just trying to kept to it." the hollow voice falls silent for a moment, "I'm sure if I look hard enough I could find Gliroy's binders. They had all his plans, what he wanted our Kingdom to be. I'm assuming you would like to carve out the rubble and fix up Gilroy's Dark Temple," it might seem strange for Alice an Acolyte to offer the Sanctified this, but to Alice the place had been, and would always be a place for a faith not her own. Besides, she needed the Winds, the stars and the primal world around her.

[Robert Cross]

A beat and then the Burned Man takes Longstreet's hand. He's not in the habit of doing this, but the other Haunt is a new member of their Family. And a religious superior.

So. Shake-Shake, Cross. Make nice. "The pleasure is all mine," the sentiment is not matched by the tone of his voice, which remains flat, formal. Cross is not a very emotive monster.

That said, Alice's compliment seems to draw a slight uptick at the corners of his scarred lips. Could that be a smile?

Whatever it is, it quickly vanishes. "Thank you, Priscus. It's the least I can do." And there's still so much to be done.

Longstreet effuses about the Necropolis and Cross listens. Big words. Maybe this new Haunt will stick around long enough to back them up.

And then Alice is speaking of Gilroy. His former Priscus, Regent, Seneschal, and Bishop. Cross fights the urge to frown. What might have been if the Fanged Worm had stayed? Cross cannot fault him, though. After all, the Burned Man had also disappeared in turn.

Even Cross is taken aback by Alice's offer to permit the reconstruction of the Temple. Dead, blue eyes dart to the Seneschal's face and then back to Longstreet.

"Well. If the Bishop would like to make the Dark Temple serviceable again. I would of course be happy to help." The prospect of re-dedicating Gilroy's place of worship to the Faith is thrilling to Cross, even if it doesn't show on his face.