Number of fucks given in this post: 8
McGregor hears Jack’s bike pull up outside the Office and it sounds like she’s been gunning it. The engine cuts off. Then he gets a text message:
“I’m coming in. Don’t talk to me. I’m okay.”
She walks into the building and doesn’t look at anyone but he can see she’s a bit wild about the eyes, and goes straight for the exercise equipment and proceeds to kick fuck out of a punch bag for at least half an hour.
McGregors waits until she’s done abusing the equipment and the injured punch bag has spread it’s contents on the floor. He entered the part of the building they were using for training and he perches up at the edge.
“You alright?”
“I’m fine.” she says in a tone that doesn’t encourage further questions, as she sweeps up what’s left of a punch bag.
“That, eh, that was a new bag. But I very much doubt that.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll get a new bag.” Jack isn’t looking at you while she brushes the last of the punching bag contents into a bin bag.
He looks her up and down for signs of a fight but all he sees is mud on her boots.
Jack dumps the bin bag near the door, then goes over to the secure fridge, punches in the code, opens it and pulls out one of the containers of cow blood.
“Did someone do something?” he asks, letting her just bustle about and staying out her way and as stationary as possible.
She closes the fridge door, “Still not talking about it.”
Jack opens the container and takes a deep draught of the blood. Grimacing, she replaces the lid. With a side-glance at Pelican, she heads in the direction of the control room.
McGregor walks to the control room and leans against the entrance. He clears his throat in a awkward fashion.
“What’s on for the rest of the evening then?”
“I’m heading down to Manchester tomorrow. I’ll be there at least a week, probably more. Trying to find this missing Cam Brujah that Prince Kane is blaming on the Anarchs. Mostly likely the Society got him, though.
Wanted to make sure you and Victor had everything you needed to look after Glasgow while I’m there.”
“I read about that in the times” he says, “Seems a mess, where are you going to start?”
“Start at the warehouse he got picked up from. It’s in Liverpool for extra joy. Use Auspex on the place like I did for the pawn shop.You’ll have full access to Jon while I’m down south so you can make good use of him. I’ll be taking Luke and the van with me.”
He nods, “Aye, I’ll keep him busy. Any contact details in case the shit hits the fan?”
“Sure. I’ll have my mobile on so the usual number. Jon has a set up so he can forward the number on in case I need another phone.”
Jack sits on a swivel chair and puts her feet up on a desk, crossed at the ankles. She looks up at a clock. “When is Victor arriving?”
“Don’t know, don’t know what he’s up to this evening. I just came along earlier than usual for the space.”
Jack nods and takes another swig from the plastic container and looks up at the monitors. “If he’s bored, he could start off digging an escape route or two from here.”
“I guess he could. Are you wanting that blood warmed slightly ?”
“Sure. Might make it taste a bit better.” she says and passes it over.
He takes it and goes to the ghoul break area and warms it the way you’d warm baby milk. He leaves it a bit longer than you leave formula though. McGregor returns and hands it back.
“I don’t know if it’ll make it any better, but worth a shot.”
Jack nods and takes a drink, “Yeah, that’s a bit better.”
He smiles, “Good.”
“Nice” she says, and smiles.. just a little.. for the first time he’s seen this evening.
“Is there anything you need me to do? I’ll naturally be looking into this poor tourists. But anything specific?”
“No, nothing specific.” Jack replies, “After what happened in Hamilton, then tracking down the tourists is the best lead. I’ll be back up early enough to go over the usual missing person data and whatever Jon’s algorithm picks up. Just keep an eye out for the Society following the same leads again… But I probably don’t need to warn you of that!”
He looks down, “Nah you don’t, I’m aware. Any news on that front?”
“Nothing yet. Word from Doyle is that we blame anything they do on the Sabbat so that the general kindred public don’t take it into their own hands to go after the Society.”
After a pause, she continues, “You know, I’m wondering if the reason the old folks you fought had so many disciplines was because they diablerised each other. There might not be any more of them to find.”
His eyes widen, “That’s a terrible thought!”
McGregor looks around the room. “Won’t we be able to determine if that’s true with the sight? Or eh, is it called Auspex ?
“You can see if they’ve committed diablerie and get a rough idea of how much.” Jack explains, looking over to McGregor, “Daniel was getting a hold of their blood. From the torpored ones brought back? I think that the Tremere can get extra info from blood.”
At her last sentence, she looks away up at a screen again and unconsciously clenches and unclenches a fist.
Jack continues, still with her eyes on the screen away from McGregor, “Yeah, Auspex. Fucking useful thing to learn. Wish I could teach it to you but it’s not in my blood. First thing is heightening your senses, then you can see auras around people to get an idea of emotions or if they are mortal or not. Just recently I learned how to read what happened to an object just by touching it.”
“Pretty cool.” she adds.
“I’ve found that I have hang ups about drinking another kindreds blood I think. The idea kind of sets me on edge.” McGregor notes, “It’s going to be difficult for me to learn anything new, I think,”
Jack looks back to look him, as if she hadn’t realised she’d even turned away, “Sure, but it is a risk drinking a kindred’s blood. Not that you always get the choice.”
“Did I tell you about how I ended up Scourge the first time?” she asks.
“I don’t think so ?”
“I probably covered the start of the story where the Prince was Aldworth and I got dragged into the Brujah Sheriff’s ridiculous not-plan for a coup. I got slightly torpored from lack of blood, the Sheriff got staked and we both got rescued out of there by a friendly Brujah Anarch. Got taken down to Manchester.
Easy enough to wake me up with some blood and at that point I discovered that the Sheriff had an even worse plan than I thought so I got permission from Prince Carter to execute him and stick his ash in a Tupperware box.
How is this relevant to drinking kindred blood I hear you ask?”
McGregor nods along with he story as she tells it.
“So part of the Sheriff’s non-plan had basically left me holding off the rest of the court of Glasgow while he laid into the Viscount. I’m facing a row of Tremere, standing in order of precedence.
Boom, Tremere #1 starts dragging my blood across the room. I start moving towards them.
Boom, Tremere #2 does the same thing. I get closer to them. The panic in their eyes, but none of them can do any of the fireball shit that Primrose can.
Boom, Tremere #3 does the same thing. uh-oh, I’m 2 steps away.
One step away and tremere #4, the eldest of them called Bastion Rothschilde, pulls out my blood too. I’ve definitely mentioned him before.”
The other Brujah stands looking increasingly more disgusted at the story, “I think so aye”
Jack reaches her arms forward as if to grab someone, “So just as I reach him and am poised to sink my fangs in him – I’ve forgotten about the machete since I’m running on empty, by the way – excruciating pain and then I’m out.
Now, I think they’ve done something to the power cos I don’t think it works this way now… but by stealing my blood they’ve effectively drank it! So the whole Tremere clan have partially bonded themselves to me… and then the Anarch steals me away!”
Jack sounds amused at what went on. “Then, while I’m down in Manchester, I find out that the Viscount is in torpor and Rothschilde is now Prince.”
“So, you had a wee procession of Tremere liking you more than usual. I guess that’s kind of funny.”
“All of them in a row.” Jack confirms.
“Is Rothschilde still about ?”
“Somewhere. ” Jack looks more uncomfortable at that question, “Hopefully not here where he can fuck with my head more than he already had… and that takes me to the next bit of the story. At this point, I kinda figure I have 2 options… hide in Manchester and hope that I don’t get extradited for some Camarilla justice, or sidle back up with a box of ashes as apology and hope that the bloodbond is enough to save me. I’d assumed that even if the new prince didn’t kill me I’d be bottom of the heap for a long while.
‘Cept that Rothschilde is a fucking genius and instead offered me Scourge… thereby buying my absolute fucking loyalty and a dedicated Brujah to shore up his power base.
Of course, only if I accepted his blood in return.”
“Very good, this wasn’t long ago though was it?” asks McGregor.
“Not sure exactly. Years ago anyway.” she replies, “Not long after I first came to Glasgow, really.”
Thinking about it, she says, “Shit, might have been 10 years ago. So basically, without some drinking of kindred going on I probably wouldn’t be here today.”
“Fair enough…still fucked up though.” he says, chuckling.
“That it was. Although there were times later when I wished I’d helped that Sheriff kill the Viscount. Magnar. That was the sheriff’s name.”
“I wish you did as well to to be fair, he just kind of saunters about court like he owns the fucking place. Fuck him.”
“He probably thinks he does.” Jack comments
There is the sound of Victor swearing from another rooms. The two Brujah look through the door and see he’s got his leg half combined/stuck in concrete…?!
