WWDitC Ch. VI: Parting Words
General Summary
From the Folk Singer's Journal
November 20, 1993
It. Is. Done. For the last couple of weeks years of planning have been hanging on a knife's edge, but now I feel totally confident in my coterie's ability to hold their domain and face off against even their most powerful rivals. Misty Kirk's brutal killing could have left them on the hook for a severe masquerade breach, but in just a couple of weeks they hunted down the real killer and made enough influential connections within the city to cement control over the University of Washington. I suppose Florence Garcia was the obvious suspect, but I suppose I also wanted it to be anybody but her. We were from the same generation, shared similar concerns about the Camarilla's stodgy ways, yet she fell into the Anarch crowd while Rosalita and I made our bed with the establishment. She was one of the only kindred capable of the speed needed to dispatch Misty so quickly, and moments before her final death she confessed as much to me and my coterie. Such passion, such anger towards the status quo, surely it could have been spent on more productive causes? I worry about the ominous wording of her confession, is there something festering within the Anarchs capable of toppling the entire masquerade? Though her apprehension was quite a violent affair, my coterie surived the encounter unscathed and (in Daphne's case) honing skills never before utilized. Given our track record with park rangers, I may have to set up a charity to support members of the NPS. Surely the casualty rates will go down once my coterie masters their powers, in the meantime the bodies will not lead to any sort of masquerade breach thanks to a generous amount of arson. I will not dwell upon the lurid details of the diablerie; The Gangrel's handcuffs did their job, and Hector had little trouble consuming Florence's entire essence. I've seen this happen over half a dozen times by now, why is it always so painful to watch? We've died before, we'll die again, but that final death continues to terrify us as much it does mortals. Hector was practically glowing at Elysium tonight, those generations of power coursing through his veins even if his heart no longer beats in tune with the rest of humanity. Though the R.E.M. cover band playing tonight failed to capture the spirit of the original, I believe my coterie still managed to enjoyed themselves after weeks of headaches and intrigues. Perhaps tonight is what Daphne needs to resolve her romantic issues with Oliver, though I believe Alexander will require more than a night of relaxation to grow comfortable in his kindred skin. In the meantime it appears that Kate is ready for a new life in undeath, and with Jason as the sire I belive I'm ready to accept my fate as a grandfather. I enjoyed the drinks, enjoyed my time with Rosalita, and enjoyed seeing my coterie making the most of their undeath. I no longer worry about their fate, but it saddens me to know we'll be separated for so long. My travels will keep me far from Seattle's shores and its grungy nightlife, but the future of all kindred compels me to go. I can never forget those visions: elders sleepwalking into the desert, mortals sharpening their stakes, and hordes of nightmares not seen since the grimmest years of the Dark Ages. We plant trees whose shade we'll never feel; I've planted seeds in Seattle that I may never see fully bloom, but I'm confident that they'll survive even the fiercest storm.
November 20, 1993
It. Is. Done. For the last couple of weeks years of planning have been hanging on a knife's edge, but now I feel totally confident in my coterie's ability to hold their domain and face off against even their most powerful rivals. Misty Kirk's brutal killing could have left them on the hook for a severe masquerade breach, but in just a couple of weeks they hunted down the real killer and made enough influential connections within the city to cement control over the University of Washington. I suppose Florence Garcia was the obvious suspect, but I suppose I also wanted it to be anybody but her. We were from the same generation, shared similar concerns about the Camarilla's stodgy ways, yet she fell into the Anarch crowd while Rosalita and I made our bed with the establishment. She was one of the only kindred capable of the speed needed to dispatch Misty so quickly, and moments before her final death she confessed as much to me and my coterie. Such passion, such anger towards the status quo, surely it could have been spent on more productive causes? I worry about the ominous wording of her confession, is there something festering within the Anarchs capable of toppling the entire masquerade? Though her apprehension was quite a violent affair, my coterie surived the encounter unscathed and (in Daphne's case) honing skills never before utilized. Given our track record with park rangers, I may have to set up a charity to support members of the NPS. Surely the casualty rates will go down once my coterie masters their powers, in the meantime the bodies will not lead to any sort of masquerade breach thanks to a generous amount of arson. I will not dwell upon the lurid details of the diablerie; The Gangrel's handcuffs did their job, and Hector had little trouble consuming Florence's entire essence. I've seen this happen over half a dozen times by now, why is it always so painful to watch? We've died before, we'll die again, but that final death continues to terrify us as much it does mortals. Hector was practically glowing at Elysium tonight, those generations of power coursing through his veins even if his heart no longer beats in tune with the rest of humanity. Though the R.E.M. cover band playing tonight failed to capture the spirit of the original, I believe my coterie still managed to enjoyed themselves after weeks of headaches and intrigues. Perhaps tonight is what Daphne needs to resolve her romantic issues with Oliver, though I believe Alexander will require more than a night of relaxation to grow comfortable in his kindred skin. In the meantime it appears that Kate is ready for a new life in undeath, and with Jason as the sire I belive I'm ready to accept my fate as a grandfather. I enjoyed the drinks, enjoyed my time with Rosalita, and enjoyed seeing my coterie making the most of their undeath. I no longer worry about their fate, but it saddens me to know we'll be separated for so long. My travels will keep me far from Seattle's shores and its grungy nightlife, but the future of all kindred compels me to go. I can never forget those visions: elders sleepwalking into the desert, mortals sharpening their stakes, and hordes of nightmares not seen since the grimmest years of the Dark Ages. We plant trees whose shade we'll never feel; I've planted seeds in Seattle that I may never see fully bloom, but I'm confident that they'll survive even the fiercest storm.
Character(s) interacted with
- Florence Garcia - She sealed her fate weeks ago, our undeath is no place for remorse
- Tom Hatch - An ever-reliable mortal, Jason and K seem to get along with him quite nicely
- Rosalita Lee - I knew she would be happy to hear that we found Misty's killer, even if Florence's happened to die in the daylight under tragic circumstances
Report Date
31 Jul 2022
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