From Dusk Til' Dawn

[Nil]

When the heart ceased its beating, pumping the rich blood in thick streaming gushes against his tongue, Anasztaz simply let the rag-doll body drop to his feet.

He had seen Sidor's expression twist as he raised his eyes, right when he felt that no fight was going to come out of the last remnant of what had been a fighting force that made the Kindred in Sacramento feel fear.

Although he couldn't read what had gone through the Theban Sorceror's mind, he knew those words had struck a nerve within him somehow. Likely now it wasn't the right time to address it, but it was something he'd bring up with his distant cousin down the line. Perhaps.

Anasztaz's Empathy (2 successes) vs Sidor's Subterfuge (1 success)

2011-05-14 11:31:03 Anasztaz rolls 6 to Wits + Empathy + Spec (vs Sidor) (10 Again) 3, 1, 8, 10, 2, 1, 7 2 successes
2011-05-14 11:37:19 Sidor Rurikovitch Grigoriev rolls 5 to Composure 4 + Subterfuge 1 (10 Again) 8, 5, 7, 3, 4 1 success

[Brenn Lawrence]

The gunshot that split the night and the silence that followed in its wake carried the tale of the Rev'rend's death to Brenn up on the ridge. The militants were finally dead, so the night's silence told, but Brenn didn't feel even a tinge of relief as she stared at the pile of corpses lying at the bottom of the slope. Ana had been right, the cab wouldn't be able to hold all the bodies and the RV's dessicated frame would be useless without several lengths of chain. Even in Death, the homeless were still threatening the Masquerade and their remains would leave an ashen trail towards the Kindred's hidden Domain for any perceptive, or crazy, enough to follow it.

Pulling out her new cell phone Brenn called Kaylee and told her to bring gas and matches, and also where the ghoul could find them. If the evidence couldn't be removed then it could still be made useless. Even if foul play was found, the discovery would mean little to the Kine if there was no motive found. Hopefully fire would be enough to ensure all of that.

[Martha Villiers]

Martha moved over to help with the box - and provide whatever aid and care she could.

The gunshot halted her. She watched the final moments of the Reverend in sickened silence. Head low and feeling far from victorious, she moves to help with her Kindred friends and allies.

[Max Heinz]

*Max turns to look at Thomas, a little bewildered at what the hell the man was going on about.* I've always preferred a fedora myself... *Is the only answer Max can think of; instead concentrating on getting the box back to land. Max blinks as he sees the Keeper, apparently coming to help carry the box on shore. Had she joined the assault while he wasn't looking? Or had she come along after? Either way, he drags the box out of the water with the help of the others. He turns to help with the Reverend when the sound of the gunshot rings out.

The crack of the gun doesn't surprise him, he was just thankful someone had remembered to bring a gun to the fight. The amount of hand to hand violence had worried him back at camp; that no one lost themselves to blood lust was a small miracle. He watches the body slump, the life drain from the man's eyes, the final words of the man that had caused so much death and destruction for both Kine and Kindred echoing softly across the grisly carnage of the highway.

Perhaps your god; thankfully there are many others... He thinks to himself.

The Reverend dealt with, Max returns his attention to the box. Fingers grab onto wood, the thin Mekhet working feverishly to try and pull the top off the make shift coffin. The battle might be over, but there was always clean up to do. They had to get the bodies secured, and hide any evidence this was anything other than another senseless attack in the city...

[Martha Villiers]

Martha hobbled heavily over to the Box and Max. Seeing his hands work at the coffin lid, Martha raises her own arms and hands in a gesture of Stop! Hoping to add visual emphasis to her very words: "Sir! Stop! Please, stop! What if...what if they have booby-trapped their coffin?"

[Max Heinz]

*Max doesn't look up at the Keeper, nor does he stop working as he hears the first nails let go their hold with a shrieking whine of protest.* Then I expect there will be an Earth-shattering "Kaboom!". You might want to stand back...

*In truth, Max highly doubted there were any booby traps. If there were, they should have been triggered by the spectacular crash; his tugging would be like a soft breeze compared to a hurricane. Though, Max does invest a small amount of precious blood into hardening his body from harm. He had been wrong before...*

What the hell are you doing here anyway? I though you liked putting people back together, not taking them apart... *His tone held an honest curiosity. He wasn't scolding the Keeper, her appearance had surprised him more than anything else tonight. And if humor couldn't defuse a bomb, it might defuse Martha's fears...*

[Martha Villiers]

Seeing that Max cannot be deterred and seeing he probably won't allow direct interference, Martha lays on the ground. From her prone posture, hands on her ears and looking way, just in case, she whimpers; "I do much rather prefer putting people together...or at least, caring for what is left of them, sir...I came to help any wounded and see what I might retrieve as objects for study...and, to lend a hand..." she flinches, expecting the unholy sound of high explosives.

[GB82]

Ajax

The large Gangrel, still a body over each shoulder, looks around at the mess.

"We got enough debris to weigh them down?" He asks looking at the all the crap lying around and then the River. Seriously it's an American River, who is going to notice a few more bodies. Hey at least it wasn't on fire.

Thomas O'Connor

The Deputy grabbed a hand hold and using his own strength and vigor gave the Reeve one hell of a hand. When Martha Villiers arrived, the soaking wet Thomas, having shot seven bums and then knifed another in a watery fight to the death, gets his first real shock of the night.

I'm having a flashback to France in '44, if Martha pulls out a Tri-Color and starts singing La Marseillaise I'll know I'm dreaming.

A polite "Hello" is all that he can manage as he activates his own resilience ... just in case, after all the last time he and Max had hung out they almost got blown up.