Post by Synistergrrl on Oct 29, 2007 10:25:53 GMT -5
~The old Victorian house seemed to hold dirt to it like a virgin with her chastity on her wedding night. Dust and grim were embedded in every crack and crevice, ever single nook was full of a fine layer of silky dirt. Cobwebs strewn every corner, drifting lazily as if waving tauntingly from their high perches. The house had good bones, solid structure and all those tiny little details big Victorians were known for. It even had a sunken basement which was a rare find in New Orleans, though it was damp and cramped, muddy from all the water seeping in. There was an attic as well, and between that 3 floors of ornate rooms and halls and even a few darkened secret passages that lead from certain rooms to certain rooms. It really was the perfect sanctuary, but tell this new Sabbat pack that.~
~None of it really bothered Azazel. The fiend returned to the old house as requested, no... as demanded by the new Ductus. He'd sneered at the thought, lip's curling, but just as quickly as the expression had come, it was gone. He was beautiful, no doubt, a stunning graceful creature. But there was a coldness the ran on the surface of the ethereal creature, something that suggested under that thin veneer of disinter st was a creature of unmeasurable violence and callousness that could erupt at any given moment.The sneer seemed almost wrong on his fine featured face, but few really ever caught sight of such emotions from the fiend. He'd come into the front forayer and was now starting up the steps. He'd taken a moment to check out the basement and maybe the others would think that should be his, but no, it was too damp. Instead, after soon looking around, he'd opted for the attic. After climbing all the stairs, he walked down the hall to the little door that opened to the winding staircase to the attic. Once up there, he moved to the back were another door lead. Opening it, he found a large room, still full of things from long ago, but it was perfect. There were two windows, both easily hidden. Now, of course if there was a fire, he'd probably be fucked. But he could shimmy down the rooftop to the tree to creep down if it happened at night. But for now, none of that concerned him.~
~He began to set up his things. He didn't really have that much. Unlike most fiends, there was no elaborate lab or victims that were looking for a way out of their pain. No, Azazel had been created for one reason and one reason only, to be a spy. He was adept at escaping sticky situations, hadn't his father taught him every trick in the book? Hadn't the simple act of being able to wiggle free of the chains and bonds his father had put on him attracted the attention of his sire? Of course it had. So unlike alot of his clan, Azazel was a bit of an anomaly, finding his craft to be a bit more personal then maybe some of the others.~
~He shook free of the bonds of all that nostalgia and began to unpack the few things he'd brought. He'd have to work on those window's next and set up a place to sleep. But as he was working, his mind fluttered to his new pack mates. The Malkavian was surely going to be annoying. She had all the signs of being almost a savant, yet did she hold that idiot side of it? That was yet to be determined. But she had found obvious delight in his discomfort and that alone had already put her on his bad side. He'd have to keep a careful eye on her. Though the prospect of working so close to her was unsavory at best, he'd do what had to be done for the good of the sect, right?~
~As for the Brujah, seemed like the typical brute, all brawn, no brain. But Azazel was not fooled so easily. The bishop had left them with two strong silent types, those two were meant souly to be there for force, to follow and not lead. So what did that mean the Brujah was? It meant he obviously was much more intelligent that the Bishop let on. So of course Azazel wasn't going to dismiss the cocky rabble so easily. But it did interest him that if the Brujah were the leader type, then why was Sameal taking the Ductus roll. Again that sneering expression, but he let it wipe away. Something was up with that, though he wasn't sure what. Did Sameal want to keep such close tabs on him, and the others, that he had to take over the leadership himself? And what of Sameal's own pack? Wouldn't they be irritated by this turn of events? All these questions were unanswerable for the moment, but Azazel was sure that eventually everything would come out in the open, it was simply a matter of being patient. Everything took time to learn, it took him months to be able to escape from the shackles his father had tied him up with as a child, it was simply the art of waiting. And Azazel was truly adept at that.~
