December 4, 2010; New York - The Ghosts of Treacheries Past
This city is bleeding me dry.
The shadows reach out with long fingered tendrils and wrap around my limbs and my throat, sapping the life from me. They pull me to the cold pavement and I feel myself go as grey as the stone buildings that reach into the sky as I sink into the street.
This city is bleeding me dry.
•••
Benny is cheerful, leading his game of dominoes. It's smart of him - beginning his reign as Prince as a man of the people, accessible and jovial. He's creating a separation between himself ans the prior administration while also occupying his mind with something that allows him to be relaxed before the inevitable tide of trouble. Around us the gossip begins to fly the way it always does. It's good to be back. I enjoy Evan's glares and everyone's curious glances and even Ava's chatter about the "family." Solitude doesn't suit me, and I missed the rhythm of this place.
We have history, after all.
Bastion and Eastman begin asking questions about the dreams. (Eastman's voice still itches at my brain. He's begun carrying a hat now, as if he weren't already so uncomfortably familiar.) Each clan had a different one (though my own doesn't seem to match the rest of my clan well). Dreams of past battles, bloodshed, and betrayals. Dreams of things most of the Kindred here can neither identify nor recall. But I remember it all.
Ava says that makes me unique. Like a walking historical record of the city. In light of the dream I'm being asked to recall, it doesn't seem like a compliment.
And then, a theory. Their investigation has led Bastion and Eastman to realize that all the dreams have a common denominator: Gideon Craine. They ask me about him, and keeping a mask of nonchalance while explaining Gideon to the man who could be his brother proves difficult. I've been out of this game too long. I glance at Benny and give silent thanks that he's occupied with his game; he'd only worry otherwise. But no respite lasts long...
"Prince Martinez, we need to borrow Rebecca." Bastion's voice still quakes ever so slightly with an undertone of apology.
"Why?"
"We need to summon the ghost of Gideon Craine."
The world screeches to a halt, ripped from its axis and centered instead on those words, which echo in the air. Bastion explains that they need something important to Gideon, and that they believe I will suffice, and I can barely hear him over the din of those words repeating over and over again: "We need to summon the ghost of Gideon Craine." Predictably, Benny doesn't like it. But minutes later I find myself in a darkened room with two men preparing a conjuration and wondering if I should tell them that we didn't exactly leave things well before he died.
But I'm too late. Already an all-too-familiar voice begins to curse us from somewhere far away. It gets closer... and closer... until he's right there and he finally fades into view. I'd forgotten how tall he was. I'd forgotten the way his voice boomed and shook my bones. I empty my glass as he advances on Bastion, demanding an explanation. Bastion tries to explain before giving up and pointing at me. I feel my soul shake when he speaks my name - I'm afraid. Afraid of being dismissed again... maybe afraid that he'll see what's become of me. It takes all the strength I can muster just to look up into his eyes.
It doesn't take long to establish that Gideon isn't causing the dreams. But he never did anything for free, and he has questions... How are his children? Who is Prince of New York now? Are Cynric and Seiko well? I have no answers that he likes. Ava's words weigh on me now... no one is left who remembers these names or all of our past dramas. I look into Gideon's eyes and I suddenly feel every second of my age. I look at the man who loved me once and I feel utterly alone.
And still it's nothing compared to the feeling of my heart sinking in my chest when he tells me that he's sorry. That if he had it to do again, he would choose me. How different things might look right now if he had... maybe Nona would never have killed him. Maybe I would never have gone mad. Maybe it would have gotten even worse...
Too soon he's gone, back to what he will only tell me is "nowhere good." Bastion has promised to help him move on. And then they're all gone and I'm left alone in a room too silent and too empty with only my cold tears for company.
•••
This seemed like a better idea before. Back at the party, when I was drunk and it was bright and crowded, summoning some evil spirit for parlay seemed fine. But now, watching two dead swans float away in the lake at Prospect Park and feeling the creeping dread of what we've called, I wonder if I should have stayed at Benny's side.
It arrives. It drips with bloody ichor and reeks of death. Its voice is like the scream of a thousand dying animals. I have no business being here.
Bastion begins to speak with it, his voice having taken on an uncharacteristic confidence and authority. The beast was created by us - by our petty betrayals and our many wars, by our thousands of tiny treacheries and crimes. And like anything that is some form of alive, it wants to survive. And for that it needs us.
"I want you to do what you've always done. Lie, kill, betray..."
They're stalling for time. They don't know what to do.
I do... I know exactly what he wants. Let me out.
Eyes closed and fists clenched I force the bitch down. But she's right - this beast is right up her alley. I need to get out of here fast.
Once the others have left us alone to negotiate I force myself to stare the beast down. I know what he wants, and I know exactly how to give it to him. I have the resources in place - contacts I cultivated for months to spread chaos throughout the city. To use them now would mean betraying Benny and causing problems for his brand new Praxis... but it would also keep this thing from inflicting further harm upon him or anyone else as long as I hold up my end of the bargain. Remain loyal to perhaps my only friend, or betray him to save a city? I know what Gideon would do... what he did do. What he claims to regret. But I'm not here for power and I'm no stranger to being a traitor. And I'm the only one left who remembers what it took to build this place.
So a deal is made. Betray him to save him. Sell another piece of this broken, withering soul for a place that has killed everything I ever loved.
This city is bleeding me dry.
The shadows reach out with long fingered tendrils and wrap around my limbs and my throat, sapping the life from me. They pull me to the cold pavement and I feel myself go as grey as the stone buildings that reach into the sky as I sink into the street.
This city is bleeding me dry.
•••
Benny is cheerful, leading his game of dominoes. It's smart of him - beginning his reign as Prince as a man of the people, accessible and jovial. He's creating a separation between himself ans the prior administration while also occupying his mind with something that allows him to be relaxed before the inevitable tide of trouble. Around us the gossip begins to fly the way it always does. It's good to be back. I enjoy Evan's glares and everyone's curious glances and even Ava's chatter about the "family." Solitude doesn't suit me, and I missed the rhythm of this place.
We have history, after all.
Bastion and Eastman begin asking questions about the dreams. (Eastman's voice still itches at my brain. He's begun carrying a hat now, as if he weren't already so uncomfortably familiar.) Each clan had a different one (though my own doesn't seem to match the rest of my clan well). Dreams of past battles, bloodshed, and betrayals. Dreams of things most of the Kindred here can neither identify nor recall. But I remember it all.
Ava says that makes me unique. Like a walking historical record of the city. In light of the dream I'm being asked to recall, it doesn't seem like a compliment.
And then, a theory. Their investigation has led Bastion and Eastman to realize that all the dreams have a common denominator: Gideon Craine. They ask me about him, and keeping a mask of nonchalance while explaining Gideon to the man who could be his brother proves difficult. I've been out of this game too long. I glance at Benny and give silent thanks that he's occupied with his game; he'd only worry otherwise. But no respite lasts long...
"Prince Martinez, we need to borrow Rebecca." Bastion's voice still quakes ever so slightly with an undertone of apology.
"Why?"
"We need to summon the ghost of Gideon Craine."
The world screeches to a halt, ripped from its axis and centered instead on those words, which echo in the air. Bastion explains that they need something important to Gideon, and that they believe I will suffice, and I can barely hear him over the din of those words repeating over and over again: "We need to summon the ghost of Gideon Craine." Predictably, Benny doesn't like it. But minutes later I find myself in a darkened room with two men preparing a conjuration and wondering if I should tell them that we didn't exactly leave things well before he died.
But I'm too late. Already an all-too-familiar voice begins to curse us from somewhere far away. It gets closer... and closer... until he's right there and he finally fades into view. I'd forgotten how tall he was. I'd forgotten the way his voice boomed and shook my bones. I empty my glass as he advances on Bastion, demanding an explanation. Bastion tries to explain before giving up and pointing at me. I feel my soul shake when he speaks my name - I'm afraid. Afraid of being dismissed again... maybe afraid that he'll see what's become of me. It takes all the strength I can muster just to look up into his eyes.
It doesn't take long to establish that Gideon isn't causing the dreams. But he never did anything for free, and he has questions... How are his children? Who is Prince of New York now? Are Cynric and Seiko well? I have no answers that he likes. Ava's words weigh on me now... no one is left who remembers these names or all of our past dramas. I look into Gideon's eyes and I suddenly feel every second of my age. I look at the man who loved me once and I feel utterly alone.
And still it's nothing compared to the feeling of my heart sinking in my chest when he tells me that he's sorry. That if he had it to do again, he would choose me. How different things might look right now if he had... maybe Nona would never have killed him. Maybe I would never have gone mad. Maybe it would have gotten even worse...
Too soon he's gone, back to what he will only tell me is "nowhere good." Bastion has promised to help him move on. And then they're all gone and I'm left alone in a room too silent and too empty with only my cold tears for company.
•••
This seemed like a better idea before. Back at the party, when I was drunk and it was bright and crowded, summoning some evil spirit for parlay seemed fine. But now, watching two dead swans float away in the lake at Prospect Park and feeling the creeping dread of what we've called, I wonder if I should have stayed at Benny's side.
It arrives. It drips with bloody ichor and reeks of death. Its voice is like the scream of a thousand dying animals. I have no business being here.
Bastion begins to speak with it, his voice having taken on an uncharacteristic confidence and authority. The beast was created by us - by our petty betrayals and our many wars, by our thousands of tiny treacheries and crimes. And like anything that is some form of alive, it wants to survive. And for that it needs us.
"I want you to do what you've always done. Lie, kill, betray..."
They're stalling for time. They don't know what to do.
I do... I know exactly what he wants. Let me out.
Eyes closed and fists clenched I force the bitch down. But she's right - this beast is right up her alley. I need to get out of here fast.
Once the others have left us alone to negotiate I force myself to stare the beast down. I know what he wants, and I know exactly how to give it to him. I have the resources in place - contacts I cultivated for months to spread chaos throughout the city. To use them now would mean betraying Benny and causing problems for his brand new Praxis... but it would also keep this thing from inflicting further harm upon him or anyone else as long as I hold up my end of the bargain. Remain loyal to perhaps my only friend, or betray him to save a city? I know what Gideon would do... what he did do. What he claims to regret. But I'm not here for power and I'm no stranger to being a traitor. And I'm the only one left who remembers what it took to build this place.
So a deal is made. Betray him to save him. Sell another piece of this broken, withering soul for a place that has killed everything I ever loved.
This city is bleeding me dry.
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