Post by LittleDeadGrrl on Oct 12, 2011 11:59:20 GMT -5
Name: Emmanuel Moncrief
Clan: Gangrel
History:
"Back from your game of Adopt a Pet"
The dark haired Lasombra swirled the blood in the crystal glass. He smirked slowly as the tall, broad shouldered vampire walked in running his fingers through the blood red hair. The gangrel sighed a bit annoyed as he moved and dropped down unceremoniously on the nice white plush couch leaving stains from who knows what on it. The red hair fell across his pale skin, marred horrifyingly across his mouth and chest. He licked his lips slowly feeling the old marks the claws had left long ago, as the ragged voice comes out. The deep baritone pleasant in its scratchiness, an old lupine wound. His voice held the tinges of an accent, spanish maybe, but years had made it fade.
"I was enjoying my stay with the Andersons, Phillip. Thanksgiving dinner was coming up and I would have ended three generations in one fell swoop if not for your stupid messenger"
The Lasombra chuckled faintly. He had to admit the Gangrel game of turning into a stray pet, getting adopted, and seeing how long the charade could last amused him somewhat. He turned slowly towards the Gangrel on the couch. Emmanuel sighed a bit as he swirled the wicked looking knife on his knee waiting to see why he had been called in. He was only part of the Sabbat because they asked so little of him in return for a certain amount of protection and because he had a fondness for the new Archbishop, Phillip Decker whom he aided in restructuring the Sabbat less than a decade ago. Phillip reached out and offered a glass of the fine vitae whom Emmanuel took slowly savoring the taste.
"You know I'd not end your game if it wasn't important. You've had dealing with the wolves before ... "
Emmanuel arched a brow slowly, his eyes darkening as he remembered quietly. He'd grown up in Venezuela, a poor neighborhood to poorer parents. School never held much hold for him, he barely made it though the 9th grade before he never went to school again. When La Violenca broke out Emmanuel ran to escape the violence in the city escaping into the jungles. He lived on the outskirts of years, barely scraping by an existance, until he was forced to join a violent gang. He learned how to fight, not that he hadn't been fighting his whole life. An ambush severed him from his new family as he ran into the jungles to escape once more, only this time he never stopped running. The deep jungles offered endless bug bites, near starvation and poisoning before he stumbled on the ancient Mayan ruins. The temple stood before him beautiful and untouched. He had no idea how untouched when he slipped inside wakening something terrible. He woke under the starry night, hungry and changed, into what he had no idea. It took weeks, surviving on creatures in the forest, when he returned back to the temple finding his sire. He realized his sire hadn't made contact with the outside world in decades, maybe longer. He stayed with the old Gangrel, becoming his connection with the outside world. He learned many lessons about being a vampire, the first were that the woods were owned by other creatures. His sire perished that night taking on the two werewolves to save his young childer. Emmanuel got left with nasty scars.
"Yeah once in a while we've shared fleas. What are you getting at?"
The Lasombra smiled enjoying the directness of the Gangrel.
"Simple. I've made contact with the Black Spiral Dancers ... with those fucking Camarilla using the dogs on us I don't see why we don't exchange the favor. I need a contact between the two of us ... there's no one I trust more ... "
Emmanuel snorted and rolled his eyes. He knew the Lasombra trusted no one, least of all him, but he also knew half the Sabbat would pee their pants at the sight of a werewolf, and the other half would frenzy on them. The rest that wouldn't, well they were too high up on the food chain to be asked to do this.
"Why would I undertake the suicide mission ... call them dogs all you want but you've never had one try to tear out your throat ... what makes you think I'd go down and talk to one of them ... "
The Lasombra shrugged quietly.
"You will, for me, for our hold in this fucking city, and for the fact you're getting bored. Here's the address, the meeting is at midnight in a week, the package I want delivered will be in your mail box in a few days"
Emmanuel sighed as he finished his drink and stood leaving. He knew he'd agree, his friend knew him too well, the thrill of such a meeting excited him. He moved slowly down the darkened streets. His clothing made him look like a drifter, or some homeless man, the scars kept most away. He slipped inside the bar and stretched out his legs relaxing a bit. Despite his best attempt at looking innocuous it was more often impossible at 6'4 but the attention never bothered him. He sighed ordering a beer. He'd forced himself to tolerate food and drink, almost enjoy it, he got no sustenance from it but it kept his mind off other things, like the fact he'd come in contact with the only things in this world that haunted his nightmares anymore. Werewolves.