"Mine was a literal monster. He was executed by the Ordo Dracul for crimes against the masquerade." Atticus thought back to those days. Sitting in the great CH, quietly, awaiting his fate to be decided. "I was one of those crimes."
Of God's Blood and Burial
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"Mine was a literal monster. He was executed by the Ordo Dracul for crimes against the masquerade." Atticus thought back to those days. Sitting in the great CH, quietly, awaiting his fate to be decided. "I was one of those crimes."
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Prosper gritted his teeth, "Shit man. That is... did they show mercy, then? You mentioned a mentor, was that the choice you were offered?" It wasn't really a choice, but an adoptive Sire dynamic wasn't the worst fate. Some walked the nights alone, clueless and dying quick or getting lucky. He couldn't really imagine it, frowning at the thought. "Clearly you have been successful, circumstances be damned."
"I'm still here arn't I." It wasn't a question, "Sorry." He didn't mean to sound like he was snapping at Garrett, but it was obviously a touchy subject. "The mentor was more... a judge. I was assigned to them until such time as I was either found worthy of my gift or found unworthy. Wasn't a good time. You ever read the Sword of Truth?"
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Prosper took a moment to shuffle Atticus' Kine experience apart from his Kindred. Military, drudge worker in a dangerous environment, then an executed Sire with a Mentor ready to remove his head if he didn't adapt quickly enough. Unless the Gangrel was bullshitting him, it sounded like the man had never had a stretch in his life where he could just sit. It explained the nervous demeanor when he first hovered on Prosper's periphery, now it seemed he had his first slice of stability threatened by Lina having ambition. Losing Blackbird would have been the first leg of the stool being kicked out from under him.
And now he was supposed to become Axesworn? The first line of defense when the fires started.
Well, shit.
"No, sorry, the name does not tug at anything," Prosper said quietly. Did he have anybody?
"When was the last time you had fun?" The question was out before he could stop himself, thinking rather than focusing on the present.
"I ain't even sure I know what fun is Garrett. I tried their way, the court way, the court life, and it doesn't suit. It' ain't a gangrel thing. Ya'll do fine. When I look at it, it just seems stupid and frivolous. People went to war over rome. Kindred went to war over cities and domains. Domains that are dust now. I'm betting Pompei had kindred in it, fighting over territory and clawing at each others necks... then the volcano made it all even more dumb." Atticus thought for a moment. He laughed and enjoyed his time working with his people. Helping them out, trying to help them get through their stuff, but that wasn't fun...
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"Well, at this point I would declare you far more aware of the taint of the Curse than most Kindred. You say probably do not know, but what did you and Blackbird do? What do you like? I know what the Kindred answer is. What is the shit that is not the malicious glee we all get when we ruin someone's day?" Garrett asked, blinking.
"That is what keeps you from descending, anyway," he chuckles darkly, glancing over his shoulder as he took another road to extend the trip a bit and giving himself a moment of looking away from the predator.
"We went out. We flirted unabashedly, We met up at places, messed with people, laughed, got takeout, ate the driver," Atticus gave a soft smile at the memory, "I think it was mix of embracing who we are, and at the same time, not forgetting who we were."
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The Gangrel shrugged, "Sounds like living. Have you been doing that at all, between your studies? Or have you just been lacking in the incentive to branch without someone kicking you out the door?"
Prosper didn't understand shyness or social anxiety, but he could pretend. "Grief is normal. Have you had enough time? From all those books you are reading, I am sure you are familiar with the fact that you are supposed to continue being active once the stamina is there and just taking time in private."
"Naw, I haven't. It's been just my studies. And trying to keep the place from burning down. When I did my certification, there was some stuff about helping people through grief and dealing with people's emotions in a healthy way. The way we live though, kinda screws with the whole healthy lifestyle thing. What about you, what you do for fun? Just run out pick up girls, go wine and dine, the literally dine?"
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The Gangrel snorted, "Maybe in the past? I sleep a lot. Changes with the times," he flicks his attention from Atticus to the road. "Shit man, you have an education? You did not mention that before," his tone isn't condescending, more genuinely curious and pleased with the new information.
The Nine of Cups hummed as he reviewed his current stint, "It is different with this crowd and this city. I get locked into a certain realm and age bracket with the Kine, and it seems early twenties is the new teenager," he made tch sound somewhere between annoyance and amusement. "A lot of alcohol, a lot of drugs. A lot of pick ups. A lot of technology floating around that I try and avoid, the funny thing is you get brownie points with the Kine for putting on airs that you are too self assured for relying on a media presence. Everything feels accelerated? I make it a thing to aim for novel experiences and interesting locations, since really that is all there is at this point. Finding little moments in the details, because everything is a cycle. The rich are boring because the signalling never changes, so I am usually mixing with Kine that come up with wild ideas with what to do with my bank account." He laughs at that. He found them a lot of fun.
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