Trying to take advantage of the opportunity, Thomas attempts to use his powers on the draugr.
"Freeze. Stop resisting"
failure
However, he does not seem to have much luck. The eye contact is just not stable enough.
Trying to take advantage of the opportunity, Thomas attempts to use his powers on the draugr.
"Freeze. Stop resisting"
However, he does not seem to have much luck. The eye contact is just not stable enough.
The squirming, raging anger of the drauger was pissing Atticus off. What pissed him off even more was that he couldn't get a good purchase to immobilize the bastard.
Awkward bumbling, as everyone tried to do their Thing and couldn't get it done. The draugr, too, flailing against Atticus James's grip and away from Thomas Boyle, but it couldn't get it done.
Woland - Command typically is the Dominate that can be used in Combat.
Okay, let's try this again.
"I said Freeze" His voice calm, even, as he underlines the last word, the one concealing actual power.
Atticus gets a better grip this time, and with some added help from his snack earlier, he adjusts his grip and tries to reap the struggling draugr's legs out from under him to pin it to the ground.
Atticus gets the draugr into a mighty Full Nelson. Realistically, it is at the Kindred's collective mercy, its physical capabilities so, so not up for the challenge of breaking out of the Gangrel Dragon's hold. Still, it struggles, Thomas's attempts to control it failing again.
It is defenseless. It is without aid. But only so long as Atticus holds it there. He can do nothing else.
@Woland - will your character murder this draugr with a brutal, extended, protracted beatdown?
The world fades. Or compartmentalizes would probably be a better word. And right now, only three parts of it matter - Thomas, this thing Atticus is holding and the fire axe laying forgotten on the ground. Everything else is just fog and noise. Even the Beast, salivating in excitement just a second ago is told to kindly shut up.
This is the Man's moment. The triumph of an elevated consciousness over the worm before him.
The wooden handle and steel blade weigh heavily in the frail arms of the Ventrue, who has only just the right amount of skill to know which end of a weapon you are supposed to hold, but it is anger that does the trick - anger and shame that he's tried twice and couldn't subjugate the draugr like a Lord is supposed to do.
An eternity bathed in blood and bone and flesh and sinew passes. If his body still produced lactic acid, Thomas wouldn't be able to land half the shallow strikes he did and yet, when the world solidifies into one again, what lies before him is truly motionless - a bundle of gore that used to be a draugr. That used to be a vampire.
That used to be a human.
"I think... I think we are done here, Deputy" He says to Atticus, more to check if he can still speak than to state the obvious fact.
Violence. It didn't come naturally to Thomas Boyle. He was a frail individual, possessed of little physical might. The axe was heavy. Heavier than anything he'd ever lifted, in this minute, because as he formed the intention to kill this lost one and the Lord stood over the Beast, he taunted his own.
Each swing, each spatter, each thunk of metal on bone - it was grisly. It was gory. There was nothing about this that felt good, not to one such as he, who had not lost himself to the beast much at all. It was easy to speak of theoreticals and of the occult. This, this was far, far more horrid.
Because the draugr flailed in Atticus's incredible pin.
Because the Ventrue wasn't very accurate.
Because pieces came off, and it wasn't clean.
But in the end, the Beast fell. It wasn't falling to ash very quickly. Plainly, this was a younger Kindred, one who had lost himself to the Beast, one who had been captured by these mortals. The broken chain on his ankle told the story. And as the Ventrue's eyes followed the blood trail down into the service pit, Thomas saw what he had wrought with his Dominate.
Two more, stabbed to death in the pit.
The exsanguinated corpse of the man he had dominated.
The rest of the chain.
The Night Stalkers were no more, thanks to four Kindred willing to face danger, and to a homeless man who had been slain ingloriously - but each had lessons to learn. Each had violence to put in its place, save for the young nurse who had started it all.
And so ends the Night Stalkers plot! Great work.
Steven Ruach Woland - please roll 3 dice for Humanity loss (this is 2 + 1 for mitigating circumstances). If you fail, please roll your new Humanity to see if you acquire a Derangement. Woland, remember your Ventrue flaw.
I will let you folks off without the necessity of a body disposal scene if you give me one beautiful post in here each about the struggle with the Beast, and about dealing with several corpses and the scene of this conflict.
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Presence
New Identity Clayton Jordan Carter
Obfuscate 2 Mask of Tranquility
Occultation (Vampire)
Dirt Nap is silent, perhaps even sullen as he painstakingly conceals the body of the one he has ended. His thoughts consuming him.
"The beast won. Maybe he had no other option. Maybe if his mind had been unsullied, uninfluenced by the beast, maybe it is what he would have done anyway. He hated the beast most of all for that. Any act of aggression or retreat no matter how apparently necessary to his mind might just be the beast clouding his reasoning, because it wasn't just about passion, fury, and terror. The beast could be subtle in it's deceptions."
"He could never know for sure that his decisions were really objective. And now he'd ended someone. Someone who was trying to end him or worse at the time. Probably, almost certainly someone who had tortured and killed others, who was too far gone for any kind of redemption, but definitely was now denied that chance by Dirt Nap's actions. At the end, he had managed to control himself, thanks to the Coil. But it hadn't been enough. That last kick, had it really been an accident that it was too strong? Or had the beast managed to cloud his memory even now."
"The best way was not to justify it. Not to retrace the thoughts and perceptions that led to it. Best to mourn the loss of the one who was ended, the potential gone, and recommit to fighting the beast for the choices, choosing to do the least harm possible to achieve each goal or consider failing at achieving a goal rather than doing the harm at all. It was the only way to be sure that the beast had to fight for every inch, would inevitably win but as slowly as possible, the long war for the reflection of the soul, of the man who used to live in this body."
Dirt Nap renewed his vow, with all his will, that the beast would know it had been in a fight, before it won in the end.
Atticus felt the body go limp in his powerful grip and then he felt the body begin to turn to disintegrate in his hands. It wasn't immediate like in the movies, it was a slower process, but he felt it none the less. The atoms of the draugr falling apart in his hands. He wished he knew who it was, how old it was, something. What stories could it tell? It seemed like such a waste. Then again, it wasn't really a person anymore, it was just this. Atticus dropped the corpse like a sack of all that it is, waste. Atticus steps over the body as it falls apart. "I'm gonna need a shower." Atticus says as he looks down at his blood covered self. He picks up his ax and makes his way outside, whistling a mournful tune as he walks toward his vehicle, helping to finish loading the bodies.
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