[WoD] Random Acts (complete)

[Katarina Gordislava]

Katarina turned around and shimmied in front of her vizier, eying the crowd. Sergei moved as though he was made out of wood, but no one seemed to notice. She faced him once more with an uncharacteristic grin. “How about that group of girls over there?” She played with the buttons on his shirt, and winked. “If you show them your tattoo they will be putty in your hands. It works better than Dominate.” As she danced she drew him along with her, until they were dancing beside the girls she’d spotted.

They pretended to ignore the Cainites, but Katarina drew one of them towards her with the slightest of eye contact and suggestion. She was a pretty Asian girl, her long hair wild from dancing. Katarina looked deep into her eyes and they danced, the kine pressing her body against the Archbishop’s as the club pulsed to the music. Sergei touched her shoulder and Katarina mouthed, midnight. Pick your prey.

Taking out the obvious Goths and vampire wannabes would not cause the stir she wanted to create. The authorities wouldn’t think much of someone dressed like an Anne Rice vampire dying with bite marks. But a group of girls barely old enough to drink alcohol? It would be all over the headlines by morning. Sergei could join her, of course, but she figured he would want to pick his own.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

The power to Dominate the minds and wills of others was not among Sergei strengths, but very little in the way of strength was needed to command the minds of already intoxicated young kine. As Katarina drew away her prey, the girls friends looked to the partner she had left behind. One of them, a petite brunette, pushed herself away from those around her and into the Cainities waiting arms. She found herself fascinated by his dark eyes and pressed her slim body against his hard frame, only drawing away occasionally to take a sip from the bottle of Corona she was nursing, her fifth of the night.

'Dancing', Sergei caught glimpses now and then of Katarina and Fyodor as they spun their webs. They were so much more artful than he was, it was in their blood. Even Fyodor could turn his distance from the modern world into a charming eccentricity that was more than enough to woo another drunken club goer. As he watched his cohorts, he felt warm fingertips on his skin. The girl laced her hands over the back of his neck, staring longingly up into those smouldering eyes that looked at almost everything but her. She had had one too many drinks to notice how cold he was, to realize what was going to happen.

[Katarina Gordislava]

A leggy blonde attached herself to Katarina’s prey, sandwiching the girl between their bodies as the beat pounded into the heads of the intoxicated kine. Katarina could hear another beat: the wild thump of the mortal’s heart as she gave herself to the moment. Her breath was sweet from the alcohol she’d consumed, and the Archbishop traced a finger along the girl’s jawline. The kine’s face tilted up as though by command, and the Cainite stared at her neck, her urges crawling to the surface.

But it was not time yet, they must all go at once or the effect would be diminished. Katarina forced herself to smile at the girl, and turned her attention to the blonde who’d joined her little party. The woman was staring at her hungrily, dancing her way to her side. It was amusing to find oneself becoming the hunted one as the blonde was making her intentions very clear. Two were better than one, and Katarina met the other mortal’s eyes. The kine sighed as Katarina’s blood called to her, and they soon had the attention of quite a few men who were near them as they danced. The Cainite kissed the blonde lightly on the lips, and then turned and did the same to the asian mortal so she wouldn’t feel left out.

They wished to worship at the altar of pleasure, and she did not mind indulging them. After all, it would be their last dance.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

Katarina took far much more from charming the mortals than Sergei ever did. He could no longer see them as any more than meat, a walking meal. They excited nothing in him, no lust, save for the hunger of the Beast, and yet in them he drew out all of this and more.

His eyes darted to Katarina. Her body seemed like a physical extinction of the music, writhing and twisting in perfect time with it. The kine that hung off her like living decorations followed the ebb and flow of her movements more than they did the music. It was a sight to behold. Curving patterns into the air with her fingertips, she played them all beautifully, like a conductor, a virtuoso. For a fleeting second Sergei felt himself drawn towards her, before he shook away the lure of the blood, silently scolding himself.

Surely it was time soon. There was only so much of this he could take.

[Katarina Gordislava]

Katarina’s blood was boiling, and her interaction with the two kine had mesmerized a good portion of the dance floor around her. No one would miss what would happen next.

As her watch struck midnight she caught up the Asian girl’s hair, bending her neck to the side and biting deep into her jugular vein. Usually she was meticulously neat when she fed, but tonight was all about the spectacle. The people around her were still dancing, some still staring at the Archbishop and her two companions. She did not take enough blood to quench the thirst of the Beast that raged within, and then released the dark-haired kine.

The girl stumbled, her body trembling from the embrace, and Katarina looked into her eyes. Kine were usually docile enough while being fed upon, but with a little suggestion the girl started to cry, and then other people saw the blood running from the wounds on her neck and staining her clothes. Unable to control herself with the taste of blood on her lips, Katarina grabbed the blonde kine as people around her started to panic, and wrapped her in shadowy tentacles.

She gave in to the Beast and took the kine’s blood savagely. They became entwined – a shadowy macabre play of blood and lust. By the bar she could hear shrieks of terror as Fyodor took his own kine.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

At last.

Running his fingers through strands of silk-soft hair, Sergei seized the young kine and wretched her head to one side, exposing her pale neck. A little less care and he might have snapped her spine at that very moment, but it was not time for that yet. He wanted her to scream, to fight against it. As he buried his fangs into her tender young flesh, tears welled up in her eyes. Though she moaned, this was not the sensual kiss of the Embrace, not the soft touch used on ghoul playthings. Sergei was merciless. She could feel her strength slipping away- the bottle she held clattered to the floor, shattering into tiny glittering pieces.

One bold club-goer surged forwards, attempting to pull Sergei away. Without lifting his head, the warlock extended one hand backwards and the would-be hero froze in his tracks. Others watched agape, powerless to save the girl from the monster in their midst.

[Katarina Gordislava]

The blonde crumpled to the ground as Katarina allowed the tentacles of Shadow to dissipate. The music was still bumping loud enough that there were people in the far corners of the club who had no idea what was going on. A man was attempting to help the Asian girl, and the Archbishop smacked him away from her with a Potence boosted backhand.

“Stop it!” The young kine was sobbing, trying to push into the mass of people behind her. The other mortals near the body of the blonde were panicking, and the mood of the Batcave was turning quickly. Someone made the sign of the cross and Katarina laughed, her mouth red with blood.

Then someone yanked the bloodied girl through two club-goers, and the kine was gone from sight. Angered, Katarina spun herself into the shadows, arriving at the exits long before her prey ever did. People were pouring out into the London night, some shrieking with terror at the sight of the Archbishop as she stepped out of nowhere to lounge by the door. She wiped at her chin, and realized that she was nearly as bloodied as the kine she was waiting for. The only difference was that this blood was not hers.

The Asian girl and her ‘rescuer’ stumbled out of the crowd, only to stop short at the sight of Katarina. “Nooo…” moaned the kine, and the young man holding her hand thrust her behind him.

“Oh, I do not think so.” Katarina stared at him. “Give her to me.”

And, he did. The girl screamed and clawed at Katarina as the Cainite folded her arms around her, and no one stopped to help. The would-be hero stood by and watched blankly as the vampire took the last of the girl’s life.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

The girls body became limp, her protests weakening. Sergei cast her body aside – she skidded across the dance floor, over the fine shimmer of broken glass. His eyes quickly swept over the small crowd of paralysed kine that had encircled him and singled out his next victim. Another young woman, mascara smeared in thick, watery strokes down her cheeks. The monster leapt at her, knocking her straight to the ground. The people stood around her scattered, like a flock of frightened pigeons.

Sergei perched atop his prey and tore at her throat with abandon, indulging the wanton desires of the Beast, as fresh warm vitae spilled into his lips and onto the ground. He ripped away her dress and smeared a bloody hand print across her naked skin. One of the spellbound voyeurs watching the debauchery let out a shriek, another began to vomit. Sergei could barely hear any of it. The thumpthump of a living heart filled his ears.

[Katarina Gordislava]

Fyodor was having a similar time over by the bar. He’d had to convince everyone sitting there that it didn’t matter that he had no reflection in the mirror on the wall behind the bartender, but as midnight struck he released the mortals from their dominated state. He threw himself over the counter at the attractive Scottish bartender, knocking her to the wall and holding her there as he drank her blood and savaged her body.

She trembled and moaned at the exquisite pain inflicted by the Cainite, until he dropped her on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Fyodor pulled his shirt over his head, and smeared his bare chest with her blood as he leapt on top of the bar. From his vantage point he could see Sergei leaping onto his second victim, but it was a commotion by the back of the club that caught his attention. Two people in what appeared to be black leather were climbing up on tables and coming towards him. Fast.

The DJ finally caught on to what was going on, and the music stopped with a suddenness that left ones ears ringing. Fyodor jumped to the wall, clinging to it and climbing up onto the ceiling. “Brujah!” His voice rang clearly in the club as the two Camarilla vampires leapt up to the bar.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

The silence seemed almost as terrifying, to the onlookers, as what was going on before them – the sudden shift startling and evoking screams. Sergei rose to his feet and saw the figures of the Brujah blurring over the bar top. Quickly he channelled his blood to give him sight beyond sight, and searched the rest of the bar for the tell-tale aura of a vampire. Sure enough, he saw them – another two. They were headed for him, their blood hot.

They burst out of the crowd and vaulted towards him. He called on the power of Thaumaturgy. As one maddened Cainite collided with him, sparks of electricity burst from his fingertips and danced a wicked waltz over the Brujahs skull. He recoiled in shock, gripping his head as he stumbled into his partner. Sergei turned and ran, instantly.

“Katarina!” he barked, dropping into a roll beneath a large table as the second, unharmed, Brujah lunged for him. While Sergei had served in the Army for a number of years, and had the strength of Caine in him, he was no match for a pair of Brujah in close combat. He needed an exit.

[Katarina Gordislava]

When the music stopped Katarina looked up from her meal, mouth stained with blood. The girl hung limply in her hands, and the mortals around the front door were trampling on each other in their haste to get out.

“Brujah!” Her head snapped around, spying Fyodor speed-crawling across the ceiling, leaving a trail of bloody hand prints. Two Brujah were on top of the bar, and one was throwing shot glasses at the Lasombra with Celerity enhanced speed.

“Katarina!” Sergei was plowing through the mass of mortals with two other Brujah on his heels.

Which, logically, left her. The Archbishop ducked instinctively as a sword whistled through the air where her head had been, and her eyes widened as she spied the enormous Brujah behind her. Calling on her blood, she threw the dead girl at the Camarilla vampire hard enough to knock him backwards, but he would be coming at her harder and faster than she could counter. She backed up and locked eyes with two of the male kine in the crowd. “Protect me!” They abandoned their sobbing girlfriends and ran at the hulking Brujah.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

Sergei planted both feet against the underside of the table beneath which he had rolled, and launched it up into the air – right into the path of an advancing Brujah. The kindred railed as the hard wood impacted with his body. It did not shatter but rather drove him backwards, pinning him briefly beneath it. The second vampire snarled as he leapt over his fallen brethren. Sergei plucked a sphere of energy out of thin air, teasing the electricity into being in a matter of seconds. The Brujah dove at him and the ball of light imploded against his chest. Charge still crackled over the warlocks fingertips, as he rolled onto his opponent, pinning him down with a surge of current. He pressed two fingertips against the Brujah's closed eyes, the jarring light flowing straight into his skull, causing his body to shake and convulse.

[Katarina Gordislava]

The two Dominated mortals were quickly disposed of by the Brujah, though they gained Katarina enough time to call up Shadows around herself. As the Brujah advanced once more she smacked him across the face with a thickened arm of shadow before disappearing into the Abyss of her tenebrous form.

She spun herself back into existance just to the side of Vishnyakov as one of his attackers fell to the ground, smoke rising from his eye sockets. Fyodor dropped from the ceiling on top of the second of Sergei's Brujah, swiftly breaking the Kindred's neck with a Potence fueled twist of his arms. Katarina looked over to the bar to see the two Brujah there were simply standing still, held in a Dominated trance.

Fyodor stood to his feet. "We need to get out of here, Katarina." Around them the club was rapidly emptying as the Archbishop's sword wielding foe was shoving towards the three Cainites.

"Agreed." She pointed at the large Brujah, "Only one left, unless there are more outside."

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

“Even if they were alone, it won't be long before others come.” Sergei was somewhat breathless as he stood, clambering off the body of the fallen Brujah. He looked between the two Russians, as they surveyed the now virtually empty bar, the floor covered in winking shards of glass.

“We should split up. There might be others watching the exits, to trail us back to the Haven.”

[Katarina Gordislava]

The Archbishop nodded, but added, "You take a significantly greater risk than I do. My tenebrous form will protect me. Fyodor, go with Sergei."

The priest nodded, "The back door is most likely to be guarded. We will take the last Brujah, and meet you afterwards."

"Very well." Katarina wiped her bloody hands on her AC/DC shirt and ran away from the rapidly approaching Brujah. He reminded her of the Sheriff of Rodermark. If he was indeed the Sheriff, things were more dire than they appeared. There were dark shadows near the wall, where she could hide and re-appear outside of the club.

The overhead florescent lights flicked on, drowning out the shadows she was to use and bathing the Batcave in dreary greenish white light. She cursed and altered her run to head for the back door.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

For all Sergei was skilled in the blood magics, one area where he fell short was disappearing into thin air – his strengths lay in making others do that, permanently. Fyodors company, therefore, was much welcomed, as much as the two didn't usually get along. Working together, they were easily able to handle the remaining Brujah. Fyodor could bamboozle and frustrate them by coiling in and out of tenebrous form, while Sergei struck them down with whips of light.

The sound of sirens was echoing in the distance. It seemed as if they could scarce go anywhere without that telltale wail signaling an end to their evening. They made a move for the back door quickly, and saw that Katarina too was headed that way. Just as they were about to push the frame open, the door exploded inwards. A burly quarter of Kindred, feral and grotesque stood in their way. Perhaps Nosferatu, perhaps Gangrel, Sergei couldn't quite tell.

[Katarina Gordislava]

Fyodor threw all his energy into his Domination talent as Katarina dematerialized into Shadows and filtered through the uninvited guests. The Archbishop would be safe, but her vizier was still in danger. The two were overrun almost immediately by the gathered Camarilla, but the power of Fyodor's blood kept nearly all of them in a restless circle around the two Sabbat.

With a foot or two of breathing room surrounding them, Fyodor pushed towards the door. Vishnyakov flashed fire at the ones not affected by the priest's gifting. If a stronger Kindred arrived that Sergei could not deal with and his Domination could not control, they would be in trouble.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

The Dark Father was smiling on his children. Once Sergei and Fyodor had powered their way through the newly arrived wave of Camarilla, they found no further Kindred awaiting their exit. Behind them, the Domination that had held the angered vampires in place was beginning to weaken – but already the Sabbat were on the move. If anymore Camarilla made an appearance, they would be too late.

[Katarina Gordislava]

Katarina rejoined her two companions a few streets over. "That was... interesting." Her suspicious mind was already mulling over a few possibilities as to how so many Camarilla had gotten to the Cave so immediately.

Fyodor nodded, "Interessting iss not how I would put it. We got lucky, Archbisshop."

"Indeed we did." They were taking a round-about route back to the haven, but they were traveling fast. Daylight would be upon them in a short hour and a half.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

Fatigue had begun to set in. The imminent sunrise made all Cainities, particularly those who embraced the Beast, sluggish in the hours just before daylight. “Someone must have given them a tip-off. I would have expected there to be some Camarilla their of their own choice, but not so many, and not so well armed.”