Story 7 - You Are What You Eat

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Ursa Tentatio 

The clinking of wine glasses and the whispers of polite conversation was heard throughout a small, affluent house in the Proctor district of Tacoma, one that was remodeled into a rather upscale restaurant for human's sake, but on this evening there was not a beating heart within the building.

Of course, that isn't to say something sinister or malevolent was happening. No, despite the Kindred's propensity towards scheming, plotting, and maneuvering, the air in this environment was rather lively. Some people were playing cards, some were just shooting the proverbial shit, and some were even having a minor debate about Noddist beliefs.

Despite all common trends, the 20 or so unbeating hearts in this building were at some relative level of peace, which was graciously enjoyed by the event's organizer.

Standing on an upper floor, looking at the peace throughout, a very tall, broad, and heavy-set man, with a wild mane of orange hair accompanied by a close-shaven beard and a pair of blue-rimmed glasses, had a wide smile of contentment across his face.

Straightening the hem of his white button-up shirt, and tucking what parts had come undone from his sleek brown slacks, he made a tour of the rather small venue, to check up on people and ensure their refreshments are to their satisfaction.

As he made that round, he noticed another figure sitting solitary in a corner, seemingly watching the conglomerated crowd as well. He was rather nondescript, being a pale-skinned brunette man with a plain three-piece suit, wearing sunglasses.

"Well hey there!" The organizer greeted, politely jogging his way over to the table. "Can't help but notice you here off by your lonesome, I hope nothing's causin' ya any difficulties." He said, in an almost stereotypically positive Canadian accent.

"Oh not at all, this is very uh, peachy keen you could say. Just, uh, a bit unfamiliar with this style of gathering, in this side of town." The lone man said, almost pushing the words out of his lungs.

"Ah yeah, it is a bit of a new style for us, only been goin' on for a few months now, but it seems to be popular enough! A lot of folks like us really love the area, y'know? So it's really easy to get everyone here once in a while to just chat and see where everyone is! A lot of pies in a lot of ovens these days, y'know?"

"Right right, and it seems like quite the, uh, beaming crowd. But doesn't this seem a bit, uh, Elysium to folks?"

"Hmm, I guess you can draw some comparisons, but I do think there's a pretty fundamental difference." The organizer answered.

"That being?"

"Elysium is a place to flaunt status and ask for favors. Our little gatherings here are just to hang out and be a part of a connected, rather than disparate, Kindred community. It's also pretty easy to help spot and welcome newcomers! Which reminds me, I don't think I've seen you around these parts before."

The suited man took a long sip of his wine glass of fresh, delectable blood.

"You'd be right. I just, uh, rolled in from out of town, wanted to see what all of the, uh, fuss was about."

"Well welcome in, we're happy to have you! Oh, where are my manners? I'm Oved Borysov! I'm the overseer for the Proctor district here, just imagine me as a combination security guard and receptionist for the area. If you don't mind me asking, where ya from?" He introduced, with a shake of the suited, smaller, man's hand.

"Johnson, just Johnson, and I blew in from Puyallup."

"Well, Just Johnson, I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here in town!" Oved said with a deep chuckle.

"I do have one more, uh, concern, Mr. Borysov."

"Shoot!"

"How do you keep people safe here?"

"Hmm? I don't think I understand. I'm pretty tough, and so's anyone else here. If you're worried about anyone starting a fight with the new guy, I won't tolerate it, and they'll be politely asked to leave, at the least."

"It's not the folk on the inside I'm worried about. C'mon, we got the, uh, Second Inquisition, that dastardly Camarilla, and even, uh, those other creatures of the night, all around here. Where's the, uh, safety involved in gathering in such large numbers."

Oved's expression dropped for a second, but his soft smile grew a second later. "No need to worry about any of that, we have plenty of defenses in place. Not the least of which is yours truly!" He answered with a comedic flex and pat of his bicep, which was admittedly large and taut.

Just Johnson didn't seem to be too phased by this. "Well, if it'll really make you feel secure," Oved began, truly catching his attention.

"Just a little bit north of here, there's a park that has a path down into a bit of forest, we've hidden a few wards along there that help with keeping an eye out and keeping dangers out. But, I can't give ya more details than that." He said, with a soft 'shh' gesture afterward.

Johnson let out a small chuckle, "Well that does put my mind, uh, at ease. Thank you Oved."

The night didn't have much longer until the gathering winded down to a close, and the gathered Anarchs made their way back to their own havens, or attended to their own business, as Oved stayed behind to clean up.

"Thank you for being another dumb Anarch oaf."

Johnson silently made his way north, constantly scanning the area with extended senses to check for an ambush.

"These damn punks have gotten so complacent." He muttered to himself, as he made his way through the small park Oved mentioned.

"One victory over us at our weakest and they think everything is hunky dory, ready to set up mock Elysiums to flaunt their peace and kindness and whatever nonsense they're trying to peddle. God, it just reminds me of the damn hippies all over again."

"Well, that overinflated knucklehead will be the first step of their downfall."

Walking down the staircase leading to a ravine-like forested area, Johnson flicked out a flip phone, seeing that there were no new messages.

"Seriously? They're not even keeping a tail on me? I've got five people posted and it's not a big area, there's no way they could've just slipped by." He said with a sharp grin.

As his feet hit the soil, his cockiness increased further. "All that's left to do is scour for those wards."

However, it didn't take him longer than 10 minutes of walking to realize something wrong was afoot. He had activated his supernatural sights, allowing him to see that which is normally unseen, including magic, but hadn't caught a trace or whiff of anything more than pine needles and yesterday's rain.

"And here I thought they might actually have some intuitive warding, do they really go into everything so blind and cock-eyed? Or maybe..."

He pulled out his phone once more.

"If this was a trick of some sort, then at least some of the party-goers must've made a move." But, there were still no messages, and he made sure that he had service down here as well.

Trying to call one of the numbers, the phone was quickly snatched from his hand.

Whipping around, a large and broad figure was emanating from the darkness, crushing the phone in their hand. "I wouldn't recommend that."

Before Johnson could dash out of range, Oved's other hand grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off of the ground.

"But, it wouldn't get you far anyways, people have a hard time talking with their throats ripped out." The moonlight peeking through the trees overhead illuminated the crimson around his lips, dripping from his fangs.

"T-This must be s-some m-misunderstanding, p-put me down a-and we can t-talk about it!" Johnson said, but this just made Oved clamp around his throat harder.

"Let me fill you in on a few things. One, Puyallup is crawling with less than friendly Garou and Hunters, no Kindred would set up shop there, and any who were strong enough to wouldn't leave it. Two, you should've paid attention to the fact that I said that I was this area's security guard before any random ward talk."

"Y-You suspected from the beginning?"

"I told you, those parties are there to keep an eye on new faces as well. Honestly, I just fed you that ward bit to see if you took it."

"W-Wait, we c-can make a deal! I-I'm not really a part of the Camarilla, no fancy rank or anything, I just play the f-field! I can w-work for you!"

"No one special, huh? Well, that changes things!" Oved said brightly, setting the man down, but keeping an arm on his shoulder.

"S-So, uh, can w-we work something out?"

"In a sense." He grabbed the other Kindred's hand, and quickly clamped his teeth, monstrously sharp, around the wrist, and ripped it off in one easy motion, quickly moving his free hand from the elbow to Johnson's mouth, to muffle the scream.

"You see," he said, tasting the vitae and flesh of the hand, "I can't let you get out scot-free, we do have to keep any information solidly within our group to protect us, but if you're some nobody, then I don't have to worry about anyone coming after you!" He took a hard gulp and licked his lips.

"Especially not those ghouls you brought with you, which, hoo, they were poorly trained."

As the taste went through his system, his eyes narrowed and gained a new predatory gleam to them. "Say, you taste really nice." Johnson began to panic and tried to break free of the hand around his face, but the grip tightened, and dug into the skin of his head, almost breaking through to the skull, and his attempts to attack the arm just began to break his hands open instead.

 "You know," Oved began between strikes, "I was going to keep you around, serve you up for our next gathering, tonight's selection were just SI nobodies, real bland taste to them. But you! You'd be delectable."

In a last-ditch effort, Johnson grabbed a silver stiletto knife and dug it into the wrist of Oved, who winced in pain, but didn't let go of his target.

"God all this rowdiness, you're not making it easy!" From his lifted state, Oved slammed Johnson on the ground, back first, and straddled his waist to keep him from kicking too much.

"Alright, you've convinced me! No drip and serving for you!" He said, eyes small and vibrating in manic energy.

"But in return, I get to have a taste of my own!"

 It was less than a second before his fangs found purchase on Johnson's neck, digging a full maw of sharp teeth into the space where the neck turned into shoulder.

The last bit of Johnson's desperate attempts for movement were subverted by Oved's sheer heft, and the intoxicating effect of the Kiss soon took over, rending his limbs slack, and mind swimming in conflicting panicked emotions, as he could feel the vitae in him being pulled from the skin, lapped up by the thick, worming tongue of Oved.

But even that sensation only lasted for a few minutes longer, as Oved's claws and fangs dug deeper into Johnson, and the Kindred could feel that it wasn't just his blood that Oved was looking to drain from him.

The beast inside Johnson did his best to worm his way out, and actually managed to move an inch or two before the flesh began to tear where Oved had latched on, but he felt his willpower come into opposition against Oved's.

It was then, that a horror dawned on the very soul of the Kindred, a horror that illuminated the sheer threat that was in front of him, and before he could even truly rationalize it, he was devoured, his very essence drained from him, and his unliving body began to turn to ash beneath the weight of his attacker.

After a few minutes, shivering and shaking in the same hunched position, Oved's demeanor changed back to its normal, fluffed self, and he rocketed to his feet.

"Oh, oh no no no, not again!" He began to panic.

"Now I'm gonna have to hunt for a brand new flavor for next month!" In truth, this was the least of his worries, but it was the one he could do something about.

But, as he took a nervous gulp, a flash of memories from the perspective of Johnson flashed through his mind, not only proving that he was, in fact, a Camarilla agent, albeit meaningless in the grand scheme of things but also gave flashes and impulses for how the Ventrue skill of Dominate worked.

"Well, I guess I can make the best of it, just like always."

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