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The Cloud Is Moving Nearer Still
by jmiland1 Thu Jun 04, 2009 1:52 am
Martin read the letter from Shadow for the fifth time in a row. Pale, bloodless hands trembled.
I...extremely old... a Progenitor ... has been systematically destroying those of the strongest blood ...This alarms me as well.
Yeah, well, Martin was exactly pleased as punch with the situation either.
He quickly folded up the letter, put it in his pocket, and began to fill his suitcase. Like Hell he was going to stick around for this bullcrap. He wanted to see the Great City created as much as any true Mason, but the city would not grow by drinking his blood through the pavement like some hothouse rose. His death would make it choke instead, a weed, a weed taking life from the metropoli of California.
He packed his suitcase. He grabbed his cash. He called a taxi, and he got the Hell out of Dodge.
I...extremely old... a Progenitor ... has been systematically destroying those of the strongest blood ...This alarms me as well.
Yeah, well, Martin was exactly pleased as punch with the situation either.
He quickly folded up the letter, put it in his pocket, and began to fill his suitcase. Like Hell he was going to stick around for this bullcrap. He wanted to see the Great City created as much as any true Mason, but the city would not grow by drinking his blood through the pavement like some hothouse rose. His death would make it choke instead, a weed, a weed taking life from the metropoli of California.
He packed his suitcase. He grabbed his cash. He called a taxi, and he got the Hell out of Dodge.
jmiland1
Re: The Cloud Is Moving Nearer Still
by jmiland1 Sun Jun 07, 2009 10:08 pm
Martin was at the ticket counter of the airport, waiting his turn impatiently. It was still a bit early in the evening; he should be able to get some distance--say, Phoenix. He'd crash somewhere and the next night he'd grab another flight. And he would leapfrog across the country, away from Sacramento, away from Bethem and the massacre that some thought was coming.
He was letting down his Sire, no doubt, and La Charpentiere as well. But they didn't have their throats on the line. He wasn't going to risk everything for them.
Finally he had his chance; he stepped up to the smiling woman behind the counter, who asked, "What can I do for you?"
He opened his mouth to say, "I'd like your next flight to Arizona," when everything went black.
--
The next thing he knew he was seated in a tiny little plane, touching down somewhere. Odd, he thought, looking out the tiny window to the airport beyond, it looks familiar.
The pilot was giving a spiel, and Martin was only half-listening as he undid his seatbelt, until he heard the words, "San Francisco International Airport."
No. No no no no no
Suddenly fearful, Martin walked down the tiny passageway, out the door, down the tiny little staircase. On the tarmac was his sire Edward, and two of Edward's stoutest, most loyal retainers.
"Hello, Martin," his Father said, a humorless smile on his face. "Welcome home. You didn't think I would send you on an errand without leaving some way of making sure you would accomplish it, did you?"
Martin closed his eyes, holding back a bloody tear, and knew the next few years were going to be very long, and very painful.
He was letting down his Sire, no doubt, and La Charpentiere as well. But they didn't have their throats on the line. He wasn't going to risk everything for them.
Finally he had his chance; he stepped up to the smiling woman behind the counter, who asked, "What can I do for you?"
He opened his mouth to say, "I'd like your next flight to Arizona," when everything went black.
--
The next thing he knew he was seated in a tiny little plane, touching down somewhere. Odd, he thought, looking out the tiny window to the airport beyond, it looks familiar.
The pilot was giving a spiel, and Martin was only half-listening as he undid his seatbelt, until he heard the words, "San Francisco International Airport."
No. No no no no no
Suddenly fearful, Martin walked down the tiny passageway, out the door, down the tiny little staircase. On the tarmac was his sire Edward, and two of Edward's stoutest, most loyal retainers.
"Hello, Martin," his Father said, a humorless smile on his face. "Welcome home. You didn't think I would send you on an errand without leaving some way of making sure you would accomplish it, did you?"
Martin closed his eyes, holding back a bloody tear, and knew the next few years were going to be very long, and very painful.
jmiland1
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