Post by Blake Sterling Jr. on Jan 3, 2015 2:59:00 GMT -8
The Brujah was stomping back and forth as his clanmate read the newsletter to him.
“the brave, reputable Brujah and Voice of this City ran as far away from the action as he could possibly so that he could most effectively hide beneath the coattails of his clan mates.”
The pacing stops and the muscular man spins and with a deep rumble he says “Read that part again”
“Yup” He clears his throat with a chuckle and repeats “Most effectively hide beneath the coattails of his clan mates.”
Hands clenching and unclenching, the desire to rip something apart “Doesn’t that bitch understand that he was Summoning the fuckin’ traitor. Why can’t people ever do fact checking on this shit.” A deep breath to try and gain composure and he starts pacing again. “Continue please Michael”
The room isn’t large, long and narrow. The only furniture in the room is a very old steamer wardrobe and a wooden crate filled with packing peanuts and tools of war. The Brujah keeps reading the blog from his smart phone.
“After the Prince had been whisked away and the other combatants either withdrawn or unconscious, Former Sheriff Amgrim Svenn met his final demise at the hands of a brand-new arrival to the city: the Brujah Carnifex. While known to be of nearly untouchable esteem within the Camarilla as a result of his peerless brave deeds over many decades, I’ve heard from more than one mouth that the dreadful event was not murderous, but accidental. Amgrim’s destruction was a terrible, totally unforeseeable accident which occurred while Carnifex undertook the completely necessary and prudent work of removing the limbs from the helpless, torpid body which Prince Orleans himself had specifically instructed the Domain to spare. Oh, well. I guess if you can’t get Johnnie Cochran, the magic combination of being way too old to know better but also way too old to question is a good backup plan… even if your name literally means “butcher”.“
“Butcher… Lord save me from the ignorant and the uneducated. How hard is it to know basic Latin now at days. Michael do you know Latin?”
“Nope, who the fuck would know Latin except for you old fucks?”
Sighs and pauses, his face scrunches together almost like he’s about to have a bowel movement and then he laughs. “It seems I’ve forgotten my basic lessons as well. Going two hundred years without using them you tend to forget them. OK besides the point. Carnifex means The Executioner. Isn’t there some internet thing she could have fact checked that on?”
“Hey look at the bright side, you’re names in the paper and at least she got it spelt right and shit. Charlie and me are not even in this bitch.”
The short muscled man shakes his head “Tomorrow night… going to be interesting.” Said the same way someone would say “Bored to fucking death.” Then a small fire lights in his eye and a small smile creeps to his lips “Maybe I’ll get to stake the Caitiff, oh even better I will cut off that fucking Tremere’s hand for lying to me…”
"Johny, that’s a bad fucking idea, well the Tremere thing anyway. You start hacking off Tremere hands next thing you know your a fucking toad or your bloods on fire or some other harry potter bull shit."
But shit you want to vent fuck up the Caitiff if you want but you got to be careful with that shit too." A mischievous smile appears on his face and he speaks in a bad Russian accent, "You know everyone is loving Hugo right?"
“Get out. I need to train some before there’s light… Oh Michael, thanks for the update.”
“De nada.”
“the brave, reputable Brujah and Voice of this City ran as far away from the action as he could possibly so that he could most effectively hide beneath the coattails of his clan mates.”
The pacing stops and the muscular man spins and with a deep rumble he says “Read that part again”
“Yup” He clears his throat with a chuckle and repeats “Most effectively hide beneath the coattails of his clan mates.”
Hands clenching and unclenching, the desire to rip something apart “Doesn’t that bitch understand that he was Summoning the fuckin’ traitor. Why can’t people ever do fact checking on this shit.” A deep breath to try and gain composure and he starts pacing again. “Continue please Michael”
The room isn’t large, long and narrow. The only furniture in the room is a very old steamer wardrobe and a wooden crate filled with packing peanuts and tools of war. The Brujah keeps reading the blog from his smart phone.
“After the Prince had been whisked away and the other combatants either withdrawn or unconscious, Former Sheriff Amgrim Svenn met his final demise at the hands of a brand-new arrival to the city: the Brujah Carnifex. While known to be of nearly untouchable esteem within the Camarilla as a result of his peerless brave deeds over many decades, I’ve heard from more than one mouth that the dreadful event was not murderous, but accidental. Amgrim’s destruction was a terrible, totally unforeseeable accident which occurred while Carnifex undertook the completely necessary and prudent work of removing the limbs from the helpless, torpid body which Prince Orleans himself had specifically instructed the Domain to spare. Oh, well. I guess if you can’t get Johnnie Cochran, the magic combination of being way too old to know better but also way too old to question is a good backup plan… even if your name literally means “butcher”.“
“Butcher… Lord save me from the ignorant and the uneducated. How hard is it to know basic Latin now at days. Michael do you know Latin?”
“Nope, who the fuck would know Latin except for you old fucks?”
Sighs and pauses, his face scrunches together almost like he’s about to have a bowel movement and then he laughs. “It seems I’ve forgotten my basic lessons as well. Going two hundred years without using them you tend to forget them. OK besides the point. Carnifex means The Executioner. Isn’t there some internet thing she could have fact checked that on?”
“Hey look at the bright side, you’re names in the paper and at least she got it spelt right and shit. Charlie and me are not even in this bitch.”
The short muscled man shakes his head “Tomorrow night… going to be interesting.” Said the same way someone would say “Bored to fucking death.” Then a small fire lights in his eye and a small smile creeps to his lips “Maybe I’ll get to stake the Caitiff, oh even better I will cut off that fucking Tremere’s hand for lying to me…”
"Johny, that’s a bad fucking idea, well the Tremere thing anyway. You start hacking off Tremere hands next thing you know your a fucking toad or your bloods on fire or some other harry potter bull shit."
But shit you want to vent fuck up the Caitiff if you want but you got to be careful with that shit too." A mischievous smile appears on his face and he speaks in a bad Russian accent, "You know everyone is loving Hugo right?"
“Get out. I need to train some before there’s light… Oh Michael, thanks for the update.”
“De nada.”
