She sat there, staring at the man up to his neck in wax. Ben didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't blink. She knew he couldn't breathe, knew it all too well, in fact. Largely because she wasn't doing it, either. It had taken Angelica Knox some time to adjust to that reality. She didn't breathe, she didn't... anything. She just... was. And what she was was... hungry. She'd eaten at Ben's apartment, but afterward she still felt that hunger gnawing at her gut.
"What are you confused by?" Angelica nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard Nathaniel behind her.
"Mr. Gray!" Angelica still had a hand over her now-unbeating heart in surprise. "You... scared me..."
"I do apologize for that." The elder man looked at her with his strange, wolf-ish eyes. "But what confuses you? I cannot imagine that Benjamin is a thrilling conversationalist. Unless you've developed a great deal of Auspex very quickly."
"Aus-what?" Angelica asked.
"Don't worry about it." Nathaniel waved her off. "What confuses you?"
"Just... Benjamin." Angelica said. "I don't... I don't understand why he's done what he's done."
"I imagine, if he hadn't, you both would have perished in his apartment."
"No, not that. I mean... this." Angelica gestured, then sighed. "He told me about... where I came from. As much as he knew of it, anyway."
"Ah." Nathaniel said. "I didn't think that he would."
"You knew?"
"Oh, absolutely. I was the one that put you into the foster care system." Angelica looked at the man, surprised. "We're Kindred, not savages, my dear. Also, Benjamin wanted to be sure you had a normal life."
"That... didn't go as planned."
"Indeed it did not, but that's the truth of our world." Nathaniel said, almost seeming sympathetic. "You got a better introduction to it than most, though."
"How were you brought into it?" Angelica asked. Just for a split second, she thought he could see a sharp pain cross the old man's face. "... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"No, no. It's fine." Nathaniel said. "That's a story for another day. Although, I presume that Benjamin told you his own story?"
"Some of it, yes." Angelica said. "He was a terrible monster... and then... I happened."
"You happened." Nathaniel echoed. "Right."
"I guess... that's what I'm confused by." Angelica said. "Why me?"
"I wish I had an answer for you." The old Gangrel said, again with that air that almost seemed like sympathy. "And I don't imagine that Benjamin really had an answer either, did he?"
"He said that I made him see what he had become. What he didn't want to be." The elder leaned back against the wall of the lodge, his arms crossed.
"It's a curious thing." Nathaniel told her. "When the choices are presented to us, what we might do." The man's voice trailed off as he got a distant look in his eye.
"Ben told me about... the Beast." Angelica said. "The... the thing in our heads. What compels us to drink blood. Could it have been that?"
"I don't think it was." Nathaniel said. "Even an undead heart can still feel, dimmed and muted though that feeling may be. Perhaps it was nothing more than that... he felt the need to save you."
"I yelled at him." Angelica said. "Right before the attack. I thought my last words to him were going to be telling him he was a creep... for... for dating me. After all that."
"He didn't know." Nathaniel said.
"How do you know that?"
"Because I have had many nights to get to know Benjamin," The old man moved off of the wall. "He can be temperamental in his attitudes and his methods, but I have never really known him to be mercurial when he found a cause he believed in."
"A cause?"
"You have never dealt with the Sabbat, have you? No, I suppose you wouldn't have." Nathaniel said. "They are a vicious, zealous rabble. He was one of them, one of the fiercest fighters that they could have called upon. A time was, even here, people knew the Wolf of Vancouver as an unshakable pillar. Perhaps, in the end, all Benjamin needs is someone to show him a new path..."
"Primogen?" Another Gangrel had poked his head into the room.
"Yes?"
"Our... guest... is conscious. And ready to talk."
"Excellent. I shall be right there." Nathaniel said, then turned back to Angelica. "I must take my leave of you for now. Benjamin should awaken soon." Angelica nodded to him, then turned back to the pool of hardened wax and the man encased within it, still motionless.
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The dusty figure grabbed at Anton's throat as though it meant to tear into it, yet lacked the solidity to do so. The Baali laughed at it, at least until he found it did somehow have enough strength to fling him... specifically into a near wall.
Its hand crumbled away, only to seemingly reform from the refuse of its own body.
"Isaac, we need to get out of here!" Grace hissed.
"I'm... a little busy..." Isaac seemed to be intensely focused on something, and Grace noted the hand in his pocket.
"...the Orb? You have the Orb?" She hissed.
"Can... we talk... about this later?" Isaac asked through gritted teeth. "Look for a way out. Quickly." Anton had risen and was now clearly tapping into his own vitae as his hands elongated into claws, slashing at the crumbling dust form. "Stupid animal..."
Grace moved toward one of the doors, finding two Toreador (she presumed) standing guard.
"Move." Grace's own use of Dominate shown through as her eyes met theirs. The first sneered at her, but the second quickly began to move away.
"Where are you going? Get back here!" The first yelled at him, but soon found himself getting a special gift to the chest. Specifically, a wooden stake. Grace, however, found herself having missed the heart. "Oh, I see what you're doing..." The doorman ripped the stake out of his chest, dropping it to the carpeted floor. He lifted his handgun, leveling it at Grace's forehead. The diminutive redhead backed away slightly, raising her hands in surrender. It seemed, however, that her aggressor was only wanting to escalate. Grace heard the safety click, the thought occurring to her that she could move out of the way with the grace of a cat, but it never needed to happen.
Martin had come to his mistress' aid, taking the shot in the stomach before reaching out to tear the gun from the Toreador with one hand and balled the other into a fist to slam right into the doorman's face.
"Martin! How did you-?" Grace asked.
"Mistress, there is no time. We must find Mr. Carroway and leave. Quickly." Martin said. "Others are here."
"Others?" Grace asked.
"Look alive, people!" The shouting of someone from a distance got her attention, looking over to where another pair of doors had been suddenly torn open and the sudden discharge of... yes, that was indeed a submachine gun. Even Isaac had been distracted, the form of what had once been his nemesis once more crumbling to dust as he lost concentration upon it.
Anton looked over, his eyes widening with glee. "Oh, well hello, little friends!" Grace could see them having come in - Sybil, Hope, and Anthony, all armed with the aforementioned semi-automatic weapons.
"Party's over, dickbag!" Hope shouted at the man, firing another few shots wildly into the area. The crowd scattered, many trying to make a mad dash to get the hell out of the room through the now open doorways.
"You weren't invited... how rude!" Anton snapped at them, having dodged back into the stage.
"So is breaking rule six, asshole!" Sybil shouted, starting for the stage. "Anthony, take care of the Holy Grail over here."
"On it." The Tremere moved forward with her, keeping his weapon at the ready. When Anton poked his head out from behind cover, Anthony answered with a round of bullets.
"Aren't you supposed to be in a little lockup, Mister Wallace?" Anton called out.
"Got out on good behavior," Anthony said, keeping his gun trained on the same spot as he began to examine the chalice. "Which is more than I can say for you..." Hope was at Anthony's side, her own gun likewise aimed at the same spot.
"You know what this is?" Hope asked.
"Thaumaturgy." Anthony said.
"Bit more specific?"
"Nope."
"Figures." Anthony ignored her and got to work examining the chalice, muttering to himself every so often.
"Don't touch that!" Anton shouted, his answer coming in a hail of bullets that Hope delivered in his direction.
"Your moment on stage is over, Olivier! Piss off!" The Brujah shouted at him. Half a second later, though, Hope gasped out in surprise as an arm suddenly closed itself around her throat and she was pulled back hard, her back arching against... Anton, who had put her into a hold. She'd dropped the gun as well.
"Now... as I said... don't touch that... or I'll be adding her blood to it as well!" Anton snapped. Anthony looked at him, unblinking.
"Adding blood? Why?" Anthony asked. "You've gone through the trouble of crafting this. Set up this elaborate party. Why?"
"My goals are beyond your understanding, Blood Witch!" Anton spat. "Now get away from the chalice or I'll pour her off into it." Hope still struggled, but Anton's grip held firm. Anthony raised his hands, backing away from it. This was not because of the directive, but largely because he saw what it was that was coming up to stand behind Anton... and was now wrenching his arms away from Hope, who quickly turned around and kicked the Baali in his groin, causing him to fall back into it.
The thing standing behind him was a figure seemingly made out of dust, resembling a feminine shape. Anton looked back, seeing the figure's gaping maw grin evilly at him and he screamed as it wrenched him back, throwing him through a window to let gravity do with him what it would.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish!" Sybil said, having stepped up onto the stage.
"We need to get out of here." Isaac Carroway made himself known once more, rushing up to join the others. Grace noted the man's hand slipping out of his pocket. "The police will arrive soon and I do not believe we will be able to handle that situation effectively."
"We need to take this." Anthony said, gesturing to the chalice.
"Are you insane? You want to mess with that thing?" Grace asked.
"No, I want to ensure that they don't have it until we can figure out what to do with it." Anthony said. "And I can only think of one place where such a thing could be effectively hidden from them right now."
"We can stow it in the trunk. Let's go. Quick." Sybil said.
"The evidence is before you now." Only a handful of the Primogen were not in attendance. The Toreador, the Nosferatu, and the Gangrel. Wren Blanchard was not worried, they would be spoken to in due course as well if word had not already reached them (in particular the Nosferatu). For now, she spoke to those who were present and gave them a look behind the curtain at what she had spent the last few nights operating upon.
"I want Angelica Knox brought in to me... whole and intact." Wren said. "Those that are able to do this will be rewarded richly. For those who bring me a pile of dust, there will be dire consequences."
"I believe we all understand, your Grace."
"See that you do." Wren said. "You may leave..." She swiveled around in her chair, looking out over the Seattle skyline. 'This is my city... and the Baali will not take it from me..."
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