"My ribs hurt..."
"They were just pulled apart to get at your stomach. At least the vitae seems to have healed it up pretty well." Samuel said as he chucked the gause back into the first aid kit.
"You can say that, sure." Hope replied, tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Give it five minutes and you'll be fine." Samuel said.
"Pretty sure we're gonna need a lot more than a first aid kit very shortly." Sybil said, hands in the pockets of Harriet as she paced to and fro in the space parallel to the front door. She didn't focus on any of her fellows, instead just seemed to be focused on the floor in front of her.
"So we have an evil cult running around and another evil cult that worships a Methuselah that they just unlocked the box on." Grace said. "Am I getting that right?"
"That's about the size of it, yeah." Ben said. "Did Anthony say anything about what was going on at the lodge?"
"No. He ducked into the bathroom the second we got in." Samuel said.
"...why?" Angel asked. When all eyes turned on her, she continued. "Vampires don't... use the bathroom, do they?"
"... no, they don't." Ben said, that thought hitting him rather suddenly.
"Hang on, I'll go check him." Grace said, stepping down the hall to the small bathroom at the back of the Bonds shop. She stepped around a puddle that she did not wish to speculate on the origin of and knocked on the door a few times. "Anthony?"
"I'll be out in a minute!" The Tremere called from within.
"Anthony, what are you doing in there?" Grace asked.
"I said I'll be out in a minute!" His voice seemed... more strained than usual. The Toreador shook her head and headed back down the hallway to the others. While she saw the others there, she was suddenly blindsided by three other arrivals... all three of which she, unfortunately, recognized.
"Good evening." Wren Blanchard stood firmly in place just within the front door, hands folded in front of her. Ben immediately moved to stand in front of Angelica, eyes narrowed on the Prince.
"Prince Blanchard! W-Welcome, your Grace!" Samuel stammered, completely caught off-guard as he gave a bow. "Can I get you anything? I think I got a blood doll around here some-"
"How did you find us?" Ben asked, eyes narrowing on the Ventrue.
"I helped with that." The third individual made himself known, the hunched over form of a Nosferatu.
"...Hugo?" Hope asked, her head tilting.
"Last I checked." Hugo said, his eyes flickering to Ben. "I helped her find you. I slipped a bloodstone into Sybil's pocket. Figured she'd be a good bet for most of the group to be with."
"You cheeky minx!" Sybil tutted.
"You're not-" Ben started.
"Enough, Mr. Grayson." Wren raised a hand. "If I had wanted you or your... associate..." She gave a side glance at Angelica, "dead, I have people for that. We have bigger problems than a few rogue Kindred."
"What do you mean?" Grace asked.
"I mean that we have a very old, very pissed off Malkavian that has been set loose in my city... and we need to put a stop to him. Quickly." Wren said.
"Don't you have an entire sect for that?" Ben asked.
"Not exactly." Wren said. "We've run into a few problems. However... I believe we have the beginning of a solution." She gestured to the second individual, who had not moved or spoken this entire time, largely due to the large chunk of wood impaled through his heart.
"Nice to see our Primogen, but what's with the new pin in his lapel?" Sybil asked.
"Primogen Turner exposed a traitor within my court and suddenly began to act very strangely..." Wren said.
"Strangely? A Malkavian? That's so off-brand." Grace replied, then looked to Sybil and Samuel. "...no offense."
"Whatever." The twins replied in unison, clearly not interested in her Clanism.
"He said," Wren said, "that the burdens would be lifted, the Mirror repaired, and that all praise was to be given to Lamdiel. Then he tried to kill me."
"So... does this mean that the Malkavians are compromised?" Grace asked.
"Apparently not." Wren said, gesturing at Sybil and Samuel.
"I'm as normal as the next person." Sybil said, cheerfully.
"Maybe." Samuel shrugged.
"Okay, so... what do we do?" Ben asked.
"That's what we've come to discuss." Wren said. "We believe we may have the means to find out." She gestured to the paralyzed Turner, then looked to Samuel. "Mr. Langtry, can you spare a chair?"
"The time... has come."
"Master?" The woman in the Glazier robes looked upon the hunched over visage of the man who had risen from the unsealed tomb. He appeared to be Middle Eastern, no older than fourteen or fifteen. In his hands were the dust that were once her packmates.
"My loyal childe... bringing me a meal. I thank you." He said, in surprisingly clear and coherent English. Lamdiel rose, turning and gazing upon her and the others gathered in the room. "Don't worry... all of you... your burdens will be lifted. It is not my time, but ours. The world shall tremble, as we take back that which was taken from us."
"The Mirror! The Mirror!" The gathered Malkavians chanted.
"We shall go to the Ivory Tower." Lamdiel said. "I shall ascend to my throne and we shall begin... they cannot stop me now."
"He shall ascend! He can see all!"
"So you say." Wren said, eyes narrowing on the man now tied to a chair by Ben and Sybil. Turner teetered, but found he was unable to loosen the binds or move the chair all that much... at least not with the added incentive to avoid doing so thanks to Sybil, Samuel, Hope, and Hugo all pointing weapons at him. "Where is he? What is he planning?"
"His eyes are veiled, but see all." Turner said. "He will ascend the Ivory Throne, our madness will be spread out and the mirror repaired."
"...oh, God, I just got that." Grace said, all eyes in the room turning to her. "Glazier. Someone who repairs glass."
"Repairs glass in what sense, exactly?" Ben asked.
"The Malkavian symbol is a broken mirror, right?" Sybil asked. "We see everything, but in bits and pieces. Like almost seeing a picture through television static."
"Or seeing something in a broken mirror." Ben said. "Right. The Malkavian quirk of being Kindred."
"Quirk?" Grace asked.
"Every Clan has a different flavor of messed up." Ben said. "You have a fascination with beautiful things. Malkavians have... well... insanity."
"Right." Sybil said. "Other than that, though, we're perfectly alright."
"Naturally." Samuel commented offhandedly.
"He will bring out sight to the clear." Turner said. "He will set us free!"
"Yeah, we're getting that, but what is he planning to do?" Wren asked.
"He will take the throne from you, False Queen, and from the Emerald City, he will bring the children of Malkav peace. First, he shall take the Moon."
"... the Moon?" Grace stared at the man in disbelief.
"Quiet." Wren ordered sharply without looking to the Toreador. "I'm assuming you don't mean the literal moon."
"The images are unclear. The Moon is beautiful and she must not hunt." Turner said.
"Mr. Langtry. Miss Langtry. Perhaps you could take a look at your Primogen's mind?" Wren suggested.
"How so?" Sybil asked.
"Don't be cute."
"Oh, I'm adorable, but I don't see-" Sybil started.
"Sister!" Samuel cut her off, giving a nervous chuckle. "Sister, please. The Prince is here and has made a reasonable request. Let's do what she asks."
"Bootlicker..." Sybil muttered.
"What was that, Miss Langtry?" Wren asked, pointedly.
"I said, let's lick her!" Sybil said. Then, after a moment, she added. "... nailed it." She offered her hand to her brother, who took it. The pair of them looked toward the imprisoned Primogen, staring at him unblinkingly.
"S-Stop that!" Turner snapped. Still, the two Malkavians looked at their Elder, Turner squirming in his chair under some assault that only he was experiencing. The man began to scream, shaking and twisting about in the chair until he began to beg. "Make it stop! Make it stop!"
"You know how to make it stop." Wren said calmly, looking at her fingernails as though she were having a casual conversation.
"AHHHH! AHHHH!! AHHHHH!" Turner's screams elevated in pitch, seeming to head toward some sort of sadistic crescendo... and then, suddenly, were stopped. The man fell dead silent and then, suddenly, began laughing. "The False Queen thinks she can stop me..." A voice not the man's own seemed to speak through him, one far deeper and richer, booming through the room.
"I am Prince Wren Blanchard of Seattle. Identify yourself." Wren said.
"You know my name, Wren Blanchard of Seattle." Turner's mouth moved, but the words were again not his. "You know that I have slumbered beneath your city within that horrific cage, but no more. The work that I began those nights ago will start again."
"You were stopped before, you shall be so again." Wren said. Turner's occupant laughed uproariously once more.
"You will not stop what has begun. The Mirror will be fixed. And I... shall take the Moon." Turner's body wrenched back, his eyes turning a sickly black without an iris before they closed. The gathered Kindred watched as the body began to crumble, slowly going from a fully formed humanoid shape into a pile of organs, blood, and other offal.
"Ugh, that's... ugh!" Angelica turned away, covering her mouth.
"Mr. Langtry. Clean that mess up, if you please." Wren said. "Alright, we must prepare. If Lamdiel is weaponizing, then we'll have to prepare for war." It was at this moment that Anthony returned, looking wide-eyed at the scene before him.
"... what in the Hell did I miss?!"
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