Thread: The Master Awakens (Atn: Janus Only)

Looking down at the child, he regards it with an upturned corner of his mouth. His form, though massive in comparison, shows a healthy respect for the little one before him. Stepping through the threshold of the doorway, he pauses, turns and surveys the grounds before returning and crouching to the floor. Resting his hands flat upon the cold marble, he closes his eyes. After a few brief moments, he stands again and waits for the child to lead him...

Janus is lead down a twisting set of stairs that he knows must be going into the hill which the house is perched upon. It's dark here, smells of earth which is strangely comforting, as if the earth itself was going to rise up to defend the haven he stood in.

At the bottom of the stairs is a long hallway and, at the end of that hallway, a single thick wooden door. The child reaches out and opens the door, his voice doesn't echo but seems absorbed into the darkness of the room as he speaks, "The servant, Janus, as you requested Sire." The child steps back and leaves Janus to enter the room alone.

There is no words at first, though Janus can feel his presence... old ones like his master often had a presence that could be felt, a preditory power that exuded from them supernaturally. Like the doe being eyed by a wolf, most anyone who valued their life could feel those eyes watching them even in the utter darkness of a cave like this one.

"Step forward, shut the door... let me look at you with my physical eyes." The male voice came from the shadows. As the door shuts, a candle flickers to life on a solitary desk, illuminating Janus and the emaciated, leathery torso of being he'd agreed to work for. "The real you." He says gently and waits for Janus to comply.

"As impressive as you knew yourself to be... interesting. Few see themselves as they truly are in their minds eye. I suspected you would not be so grand when you stood before me... but I find I am pleasantly mistaken. Tell me... are you comfortable enough? Have your needs been met to your satisfaction since your arrival? None who accept my hospitality should ever leave thinking me a poor host... even in my current state."

As Janus follows the small child, the surrounding chamber walls with flickering candle light bring his mind back to the dark days of his creation. The masters. Their cruelty knowing no bounds. Their fires of punishment fueled by their anger. Subconsciously, he finds his head drawing down and his eyes averting to the floor. Shaking the thoughts away he lifts his head again, heading straight for the door.

The words uttered are as they were so many years ago..."The servant, as you requested..." The term isnt meant as it sounds...as least he hopes so. This one isnt like those before. The Masters before didnt care to speak their servants. They simply uttered orders and demanded they follow through...His mind draws back to another time...The acolytes of the Tower, with their whips and lashes, tormenting and breaking the wills of those they lorded over..."This one apologises for breaking your student, milord. This one shall not do it again...until the next time."

As the large door closes, Janus comes to this reality...

"Let me look at you with my physical eyes." Janus stands tall as he wills his mind to slough off the visual shell. Releasing the mask of a thousand faces, he holds his place before the master.

As the great one before him speaks, the pressure of his words alone are enough to break the great Sheriffs will. The presence before him has such dreadful possibility...dropping to one knee and averting his eyes, he splays himself upon the floor..."I am want for nothing, only to serve the Camarilla. To strengthen the Ivory Tower....What is thy bidding.....my master?"

"I see in you a man I once knew... long ago... but in your words I know that man is gone forever." The thing across the way sighs as if it remembers what a sigh might once have meant and that it sounded like an appropriate reaction for the situation. It's as though the very human act of expelling oxygen without purpose is almost so alien to this thing that he's scarsely able to be called human at all.

"Janus they call you now... and so I shall." He pauses. "Rise and face me. There can be no misunderstanding between us in the things which we will speak about now. A great many lives hang in the balance and my own is only one them. The beast that stalks me stirs and she is not long behind my own waking." The creature folds his long boney fingers together, the sound of his flesh rubbing on itself makes a sound like old parchment being riffled through.

"Tell me, have the young spoke to you - or have you overheard any discussion about any of the following topics: dreams urging them to do something, perhaps a search for a trinket? A monocle?"

As the ancient one speaks, Janus slowly raises his head to meet its gaze. The sort of gaze that a predator gives...once it realizes a more powerful predator has entered the fray. His brow furrows in a tumult of confusion and realization. His head leans to one side as the ponderous nature of the words before him unfold. "How could he"...such a question is ignorant even to utter. This creatures lifetime could make an Elysium full of Elders shudder. Nothing is beyond it power...or contempt.

Rising to his feet, he bows again in reverence. "My master, the man you may see is but one of many..."

"That which stirs may be present in the woods the Beast clan called home...until they were forced to leave it. It's power, by name alone, has stirred many. The young speak of many things...but none that I have heard speak of monocles. I will see them in two nights time...if it is your will, i shall inquire then."
Even now as he is bidden to speak as something of an equal...the weight of this creatures gaze is enough to avert his sight.

"The young are as they always are...eager to make their own place...busy with their own little empires. The hairline fractures to the Ivory tower are building. A riot of the Kine, caused by Anarchs resulted in the death of an Elder Brujah...a friend. Some of the young show great promise...A king...a rose...High Clan descendants still remember their duties. The Scholars are strong here. The one who calls himself Cicero brings great strength to the city. There is however, a possible strain in our armor. One of Cappodocious' get, Constantino Giovanni...of the clan of Death. I believe he may be meddling in the ghosts of the past...I seek your wisdom in this action..."

It bends it's fingers in on themselves and cracking can be heard at the mention of Alex Stone's death. The thing listens as Janus goes on to speak of man things and when he is done there is a long pregnant pause that could mean any number of thoughts are going through the monster's mind.

At last it speaks, "I tried to send a Lordling to seek out the monocle, urged him to get it for me no matter the cost... but he failed. The item can reveal what is hidden, specifically it will see through illusions created by the Romani and their ilk as well as obfuscations created by even the eldest. It came here long ago in the hands of my enemy, created by a Salubri Warrior from the Isle of Erin... a celt. I want to make sure that it is either destroyed or, preferably, in my possession so that our enemies can not make use of it again. So, inquire, but be careful... whoever has it can as easily use it on you as give it to you ...and we both know what that might bring about... even with your public benefactor staying in the area as my guest."

"As for the," His laughter is like dry leaves crackling and popping in a fire. "Cappadocian... do not call him that or you will find him looking to you with his paranoid suspicions and delusions. No, he is a descendant of the usurper of Ashur... Augustus Giovanni. They call themselves Giovanni now, after the man who consumed his sire's heart's blood."

"What I know of that one's goals..." He hesitates as if he's reaching out for Constantino's mind even in that very moment. "... for the time being they do not seem to conflict with our own but, nor do they directly aide us. I have no doubt he is using ghosts to do his bidding... but, I foresee no future conflict with him if things stay as they are. Perhaps though we might use him. He has been known to be in need of protection for a mortal family member of his... perhaps this knowledge will be useful to you in some moment in the future."

Again there is a pause that comes out of nowhere. "I believe a descendant of New City will rise to power... very soon. You must make ready to position yourself to serve a new Prince. A great shadow is passing over the man known as Calhoun... I can not see if he will survive the ordeal but, his loss would be felt. Be prepared to make the best of whatever sorry situation the young ones place you in and if my family can rise from the ashes of this mess... I trust that you will lend them your aide?"

The creature leans forward, his face almost coming out of the shadows as he does so, "Under no circumstances are you to trust any toreador at face value... they are the clan our foe will most likely attempt to manipulate into power. Serve them if you must, do not reveal yourself, but keep them at arms length."

Leaning back in his chair, seeming more relaxed, "I shall call forth one of my descendants to aide you in prepartions for my ... resurfacing, he will come to you using the name Costas... expect him within a year's time. His arrival will herald our preparations for war," he steeples his fingers again. "And this time there will be no quarter given."