1.6.a Happenings Past and Present

(Ci’s Stats 4/4 Willpower, 6/11 Vitae (-1 waking up), full health)
(Scene Setup (Chaos 6): Ci has a Moirai meeting. Modifier 2. Interrupt. Travel Enemies. Ci is on her way to the Moirai meeting.)

Ci woke up from her dream. In it she was dangling her feet on the Brooklyn Bridge while ships from every age sailed under. Time ran quickly and slowly and then quickly again. She woke up just as the sun was beginning to color the sky over the forever stream of ships. She never saw the sun. Even in her dreams.

She unbolted the large steel closet from the inside, noting that she would likely have to apply some WD-40 to the door hinges. A wax-sealed note fell in front of her. It would have been precariously placed on top of the steel closet, just out of sight of prying eyes. But, nobody came down to the boiler room. Ci made sure of that.

She knew what it meant before the note hit the ground. The Moirai sent it while she slept.

She was one of the very few Moirai that found and chose the Shadow Cult. Usually it was the opposite as the Moirai sought out those that could change fate. Ironically, fate chose the Moirai for Ci. The day when she stumbled upon a Moirai ceremony in a deep basement in London was barely a memory anymore. She mostly remembered the sound of the German bombs as she buried her head into a cloaked man’s breast.

There was only one leader of the Moirai left alive after the Prince of New York’s final death. So many Moirai played their hand those horrible nights of blood and ash that the secret cult was nearly unhidden. However, the choice to any Moirai was a simple one: die, rather than be found. Ci was a mere apprentice even with all her time in the cult. She was not sure why. Most Kindred in the Moirai with the amount of time she had given to the cult had risen above her station. In the end it did not matter, Ci thought, the Tapestry that bound the world’s fate was served and changed. That was what mattered.

(Meeting location: immitate reality)

The note said the meeting was at the Encore, a ruined, closed-down theater on Staten Island. Ci liked the ceremonies there because the owners had never upgraded the style past the 1950’s when the theater was built. It reminded her of days long past. Granted the theater was in a dilapidated state. However, the humans had to make the place presentable at their cleansing ceremony when the sun was still up. If the sun would not outright kill Ci, she would have to attend their precursor ceremony as well.

Ci glanced at the note again. It only had the word “encore” written on expensive paper in Rachel’s spidery, beautiful script. Rachel was the one leader that survived mostly because the Circle of the Crone Covenant had unknowingly protected Rachel during the New York shakedown. Rachel was also the only Crone that knew why Ci was not closer to the Covenant. Ci got a lot of untoward comments about her time with Garaile the Carthian Covenan at Circle gatherings, and Rachel refused to protect her from the remarks. It only made Ci love/hate Rachel more.

Ci placed the half-rolled note on top of a stack of others that were nearly identical except for the one word elegantly scripted thereon. She could not bear to throw them away even if Rachel severed all the psychic impressions from the paper. Sometimes when Ci held the stack she could easily imagine Rachel writing each note for Ci. Maybe the psychic cords were not cut as well as Rachel would have liked.

The steel closet was locked up, and the tripwire to the crudely made booby trap was set. Ci’s new haven in Brooklyn lacked the privacy and security of her old home on Staten Island so extra precautions had to be taken.  At the very least the booby trap would set Rachel’s notes on fire.

The trip to New Dorp from Bath Beach was quick, but Ci would have to take a taxi and pay the toll across the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. The nearest taxi stop was a good fifteen minute walk from Ci’s Haven, but she would make it liesurely. Perhaps she would find a snack on the way.


~ by Ravious on April 26, 2009.

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