Awakening Part 3 - Nosferatu Warehouse (Vermin, Pet, 13, Raz0r)

Her voice dropped even lower as she tensed, "What dangers?"

"The dangers of technology. The mortals now have things called cameras. The powers of our blood that hide us do not work on the developed film. The finished product. It is as if the painter's hand moves without his knowledge to paint us into the portrait."

She looked up as Marcus entered.

"And here is my Child. His name is Marcus. I am Nobody's Razor."

Vermin growled again sinking down at the idea of being seen by this... technology. He looked at where Marcus stood, his eyeless face sniffing in his direction as he tapped out his response.

He switches smoothly to latin as he hears it spoken "Blessed eve Elders. Sire" he says almost formally, offering all three a respectful bow. They were elders after all, and elders thrived on ritual. He stands, still remaining where he is, waiting for the go ahead to join the group.

She responded, her low, raspy voice, his words, "I recognize you Nobody's Raz0r and Childe Marcus. I am Vermin, and this thing speaking for me is my pet."

She gestured for her Childe to come sit with her, gently patting the floor next to her.

"There are more who will come. I hope that you will find comfort in being around Family."

Vermin nodded, responding silently through his pet. His hunched form sitting back on its haunches, the dirt and mud caking his naked grotesque flesh falling free onto the floor.

"How many family?" She questioned, her own nude form remaining still - though her head was now turned towards the newcomer - golden eyes fixed on him.

Vermin nodded again as pet made small gestures and patterns on his back. His demeanor seemed to be improving slightly.

"Tell me more of these Sects."

"AS the human populations grew, it became harder for us to hide. And philosophical differences arose. I'm not entirely sure of the details of the split, for I was not around in that time. Those who would become the Sabbat, the Lasombra, and the Tzimitze foremost, believed that we must subjugate the humans, killing and becoming stronger in the event of Caine's awakening. Those would become the Camarilla, the Ventrue, the Brujah, the Malkavians, the Toreador, the Gangrel and the Nosferatu, believed that the herds of humanity must be preserved and kept entirely in the dark as to our existence. This was imperative to our survival.

"When the split happened, there were those who would not choose sides. The Giovanni remain distant and their own entity. The Ravnos continue their wanderings. The Assamites remain aloof."

She paused.

"How much do you know of Magic?"

Marcus moves to sit next to Razor, indian style, his eyes never leaving the pair of ancient kindred. He remains silent, simply observing for the moment until directly questioned.

Razors words were passed to him, and he shook his head, tapping his response per usual.

Her head shook as his did. "Magic is a tool of the deceiver, I know no sorcery."

She nodded.

"Magic is a tool of a new Clan since you're sleep. The Tremere. They are magicians, one and all. Magic that is different from the Kolduns."

Vermin growled, his voice gutteral as he spoke the kind dead language at Razor. It was as sandpaper on stone, and his tone was ill-contented. He reached under and itched his stomach, pulling free, what looked to be a blood soaked maggot before he put it in his mouth and chewed loudly.

Her voice portrayed his frustration, her body tensing again. She crouched lower, less of a stance and more of a readiness to attack. "Impossible, you lie, there can be no new clans!"

She doesn't react. Not to the threat, and not to the tone.

"Why would I lie to Family? I have no reason to. And this new Clan was born of Magic ever so foul. Magic of the Blood."

"I am sorry to say that Raz0r is correct in this assertion," said Porter in Latin as he stepped into the room. "This is a time of marvels and impossibilities."

Vermins head twitched towards the new voice and he paused while all the words were relayed to him. When Pet stopped, he gnashed his teeth openly at the visitor, his eyeless gaze staring at him in seething fury. When he spoke it was anger and outrage, bits of maggot and blood spittle flying from his lips, as he moved his head, twisting his neck at odd angles, back towards Razor. He gripped Pets neck tightly and leaned in close to her ear hissing in it.

Puckered, seeping sores appeared on Porter's face as his mask melted away.

"Calm yourself, brother."

His sudden grasp on her neck brought a yelp to her lips, though her gaze remained on Porter, before turning back to Raz0r. "Who is this son of a whore who speaks out of turn and says the impossible is truth?! Caine made no more to walk this earth, and that is how has always been!"

From her crouched position she stretched her hands outward, her fingers growing into large, razor sharp claws, a low growl rumbling deep in her chest.

Still, she did not react to the threat.

"His name is Porter. He is our voice to the one who rules us. He is adviser to the Crown. And I did not say that Caine had created them. I said that they were new. They created themselves with their magics."

Vermin shook his head slowly, passing his words through his pet via his fingers once more. His body was tensed and his expression was one of contained fury and disgust.