Hollow Note

[Alice Hart]

Another night, and a newly arrived Haunt meant that Alice was once again leaning against a lamppost, on the corner of hither and yon, blocks away from the Aboveground entrance to the diminished, but growing Deep Kingdom.

Yellow lamplight makes the Doll's pale pallor and ghostly locks gleam out as a beacon. Amethyst sunglasses were on their perch, and her prop-folding cane was held loosely in a bone pale hand.

She didn't know if Robert would be there when she came back, of if his plans were to leave and come back, and she didn't know if Longstreet would be around. She hadn't noticed his paltry Beast near the winding catacombs, or the serenity of the Caldarium, but that didn't mean the thuggish aura'd haunt hadn't passed through while Alice was busy with other things. So it might just be the Ladies of the Clan who would be Below this evening.

A mirror to the last time she'd waited here for a Cousin, the morlock hums, Zephyrus' breath runs through her hair, pulls her skirt and drags the notes out into the world...

....doing nothing to draw the kine closer.

[Cynthia Weiss]

It did not take long for Alice to start hearing the familiar sound of heavy, plodding footsteps. Took even less time for the faint, acrid scent of sulphur to start filling the air. Even with half of her obscured in the shadows beyond the lamplight and her beast hidden behind a mask, it was obvious Cynthia had finally arrived.

She was dressed down compared to her normal attire. Black jeans, heavy work boots, her leather jacket and a band shirt so old the logo had long since faded out to nothing but a few patchy specks of white. Even her hair was a simpler undercut compared to the more elaborate styles she sported. Cynthia knew it was unwise to wear her best when you did not know your way through a Necropolis.

"Guten abend Miss Hart." She greeting the Priscus, adjusting the strap of her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "Sorry if I'm late. Taxi drivers are a pain in the ass sometimes." She was perfectly aware of the reason why. Did little to change her opinion of them however.

[Robert Cross]

Cross emerges from the catacombs after a few hours of wandering. He often spends his early evenings like this, when nothing else demands his attention. Ruminating on the words of the Testament, giving Alice some space for her own thoughts, patrolling the depths of the former Deep Kingdom.

Tonight's passage is a one he returns to again and again:

Man is like unto the angels with his faculties and compassion. As we were once men, we have these qualities at hand in every undertaking. We can show the rich their poverty, we can show the powerful their weakness, we can show the healthy their decay, and we can show the pious their hypocrisy. To all men we can show the misery and depredation of the physical world, so that their souls may yearn more intensely for the kingdom that may be theirs, through the grace of God.

Not seeing Alice or Longstreet as he strides into the Caldarium, Cross settles, cross-legged, at the edge of one of the pools of water arranged throughout the space. He is dressed in only a pair of soiled black jeans. No shirt, not shoes, the patchwork of scars marking his flesh exposed to the coolness of the Underground. Reflexively, he heightens his hearing, a precaution against being surprised as he turns his mind inward.

Flat blue eyes focus on the candle flame where it flickers across the room. A sure sign that Alice has been here already tonight. His beast growls at the this glimpse into Hell, but the sight is familiar enough now that there is no danger of frenzy. There, he rests, meditating on the message of the Dark Prophet.

[Alice Hart]

Cynthia's Tranquility; a blessing, one less thing to cause the Wraith the thrash in this Hunger filled nights, but even without the Beast, Alice knew the Haunt from her gait and the acrid scent that would forever follow her.

"Miss Weiss, you're right on time. I know it takes cabbies a while to get their heads out of their asses, take us places, and even consider to head to this part of town." Says the Doll, blunter then she'd been at Court, though still as hollow, still as fake.

The Doll pushes herself off the lamppost, "German?" Alice asks, "I think that was German, I don't speak any...actually all I speak is English. Though Ale - the Reeve's going to teach me Italian."

Waiting a moment to let that causal mention of Ale and her lofty position to filter through Cynthia's brain, before she speaks again.

"Shall we?" Alice asks, and if the answer is a positive Alice will begin to lead her newest Cousin blocks away from the lamppost, into a neighborhood of forgotten houses. Stopping, seemingly at random at one of the once-homes, neglected to the extreme, or at least it was on the outside.

Faded, peeling siding, crooked and missing shingles. Wooden features, nearly rotted through...

Alice opens the door after climbing the rotten steps.

Inside is different.

Simple Victorian lines, still worn, but it's cared for. Though the animals that had once been piled up as a warning have been removed. Alice moves them through the house passed a dark stain, obviously a bloodstain, and one that isn't likely to leave. "This is our Aboveground Haven, it serves as the entrance of the Necropolis as well."

Further into the house, towards a purposefully shadowed corner, is a door. Heavy and metal. Pristine in a way that nothing in this house had been before. There is a heavy padlock on the door. "This is the Entrance." Alice reaches into her pocket, "And this is you key. There's a separate sewer entrance, but that's for Family and emergencies only." Cynthia was smart, she'd understand what 'emergencies' Alice meant.

Alice waits for Cynthia to take the key and use it. Like Longstreet her new Cousin needed to know that Alice wasn't handing her a fake key that wouldn't work.

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."

Because it worked so well with Longstreet, and Alice loved how it echoed in the darkness.

[Cynthia Weiss]

Even through her mannerisms still screamed poseur and liar to some deep seated part of her brain, Cynthia could tell this was probably closer to what Alice was beyond the masks and glamour of the city court. "Yeah. Something I picked up from dad." She said casually, the comment about the reeve not phasing her at all. Such things were common in other domains she had seen in the past. At least the ones that were still standing to this night at any rate.

There was something else that did bug her, but that was a question for later. She nodded to the doll. "Lead the way." She was not sure how the Haunt could know the way. Practise perhaps? She followed close behind the Doll, taking in the sights of the run down neighbourhood. The dilapidation was an all different flavour to that of San Francisco's mix of bright colours and homeless masses that littered the streets at night. Already ideas started to form in her mind about what she could put down on canvas.

She nodded as Alice spoke, adding a wordless noise of confirmation each time for the Dolls benefit. Realising the door were hers to unlock, she gave the key a test and continued onward. Cynthia's eyes strained to pierce through the darkness. Thankfully the stairs were evenly spaced and she quickly fell into a steady rhythm that echoed through the path as she traversed them. The thud of boots on steel was all that could be heard until they finally reached the end.

"Not bad. Not bad at all." She said with a nod as her eyes swept through the landing. The Nosferatu could not help but feel something was missing though. "Where to?"

[Robert Cross]

For a few minutes now, Cross has been listening to the sounds of Alice and their newest Family member making their way into the Underground. She'd mentioned Cynthia's arrival in the city, even that the woman would be visiting the Necropolis. He'd forgotten, however, that the visit was tonight.

Still, he knows that Alice enjoys these occasions. So he decides to let her conduct the tour, to stay where he is and wait for them to arrive in the Caldarium.

He's just sunken back into meditation on that passage from the Testament when Longstreet makes his appearance. Cross shows no signs of surprise. After all, he'd heard the Bishop moving about in the darkness as well.

"Good Evening, Brother," comes Cross's reply. He doesn't move to stand. For a few moments, he doesn't even turn his head. Dead blue eyes stay steady on the flame.

"I'm glad you're here," he says, finally taking his eyes off the candle to look at his fellow Believer, "I have a question concerning a matter of faith."

[Alice Hart]

"Ah." Alice says, then drops the topic. Parents were tricky topics for kindred, and Alice didn't want to bring up any unwanted memories.

"Not bad?" It used to be better. "I suppose it could be worse, of course. Like I said we have a sewer exit for emergencies, but nothing here is actually connected to the sewers, we're close of course. But now sewage for us." Which was something that Alice loved. She hated living in shit.

Alice takes off her sunglasses and tosses her folding cane onto a nearby table.

Alice takes the same route she used with Longstreet, intending to end the tour in the Caldarium. "Our Clan used to be grand, then we, our numbers diminished...now it looks like it is our time once more." Alice trails the winding catacombs and tricksy sudden stops and kill boxes, until a hand presses into stone. "This is where the Dark Temple was, and will be again. The others of our Clan are both of the Lancea et Sanctum,. I've given them this space." Further into the depths, "This, where the Bleak Annles were." more steps, "The Garbage Pit." indicating the once serviceable off shoots for sepulchers.

The pair would continue to walk until they retraced their steps and made it to the landing where the fork split.

"This tunnle leads to the Caldarium, there are flames lit. It was something the Priscus before me had ordered done, and I've kept it for the memories, and because the lighting, the glow from the pools, and the flames mix wonderfully."

Alice walks forward, the presence of Longstreet's mewling Beast has the Wraith thrashing harder and more troublesomely then before. The Hunger gnaws, and twists and turns and pulls. "Good evening," Alice says, calming as the the scent of charred hair and skin make it to her nose.

Alice steps aside allowing Cynthia her first glimpse of the bathhouse beyond.

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.

"This is Cynthia Weiss. Our newest Cousin."

[Cynthia Weiss]

"No sewage? Even better." That was news that already had Cynthia smiling. The goth girl followed close behind the doll as they went in deeper into the twisting warrens of the Deep Kingdom. She did her best to memorise the layout, the choke points, the dead ends. Everything. The haunt nodded as Alice continued giving her the story of the kingdom, its heights and its decline. "Might be able to help out a little here. Maybe do something somewhere... If allowed of course." The pool of ideas and possibilities in her mind seemed to grow.

Finally they reached the Caldarium. Cynthia's eyes went wide, she was almost mesmerised. The lighting, the candles and the stonework reminded her of nicer, quieter moments on the road. "Now this is great." She muttered. A nod was given to Cross. The scent of burnt flesh was irritating, but it was no different to the chemical cocktail that would follow her Final Night on earth. "Evening." She turned to the other Nosferatu and-

Then she felt it. Deep within a maw of ten thousand fangs gnashing and screaming in rage for the blood of this thing in front of her. It was a threat that needed to be shredded, ripped apart, destroyed. It needed to-
Cynthia winced, a low sharp breath escaped through her clenched teeth. The familiar sight of the internal battle between Human and Beast was clear on her face. Should have prepped myself better for this. Composure returned before Longstreet's unsettling gaze fell on the newest addition to the family. Her grip was firm as she grasped it. The faint stench of bleach was already starting to pollute the air. "Thank you." She followed them over to the benches, her bag falling from her shoulder and carefully placed on the floor.

"Not much really. Came here from San Fran for a change of scenery. Get a new perspective for my art." Cynthia explained to him. The politics of that domain curiously absent.