AberrantForm

"Ah, dear Wen. She is special, but not unique. There are some mortals who become addicted to our bite. Most Kindred share a trait; once we have bitten into a mortal, their fear and pain are extinguished, replaced with a powerful ecstasy. Usually, the bitten mortal will not recall the moments before being bitten, particularly if certain powers are used to erase the memory. Yet some do remember, or remember the feeling if not the events. They may try to replicate that with drugs or sex, but after experiencing true pleasure, all the other pleasantries become mere substitutes. And so, they become a willing vessel for a Kindred to feed from. Indeed, this is one method of refreshing yourself. Many adept Kindred collect these types of mortals and keep them addicted. Herding them, you might say. It's not a bad way to get by. Be wary of having too many vessels if you can't protect or manage them all; a heavily addicted mortal who gets neglected may seek out other Kindred. Alot of things can go wrong there. Consider Wen a gift from me to you. I regret neglecting her at the end, despite doing it for her own safety." "You guess correctly. Killing another Kindred by consuming all of their vitae. Forbidden by both the Accords and the Camarilla; though, for different reasons. The Accords only forbid it outside of Bushio. This will require a longer explanation later, but allow this to suffice for now: The various factions cannot freely fight one another, not even skirmish, without the permission of the High Court. If the Court decides that the conflict is valid, and no immediate compromise evident, then it will declare Bushio. Essentially, Sanctioned Strife. Within a declared Bushio kindred are allowed to consume one another. The Camarilla though, outright forbids it under any circumstances. Or so they say. But things are different here in Japan. In the rest of the world, the Camarilla is usually the big dog on the scene. Here though . . . here the Camarilla has had to . . . adapt. I'll say no more on that at the present. Instead, lets focus on you. What happened in the hotel . . . broke both set of rules. And so, from this point forward, it didn't happen. You understand, Kit? You must put it from your mind, entirely. We must alter the truth, for it will compromise your mind. Embrace the following, make it the new and only memory. Work it over and over in your mind, visualizing it. You don't have to nail it down right away but you should keep thinking it over as much as possible. Until it is easier to remember the lie than the truth. You arrived at the hotel and I ambushed you. When you awoke, I was gone as was all of my stuff. You found a note telling you to take the bloodbag from the fridge, and to wait for the changes to stop, before leaving. It said that others would come and find you soon. Friends of hers. And that they would keep you safe until I returned. The note said nothing else. At first, you didn't believe. You thought about leaving right away. But the change was already beginning. All you could think about was the hunger. Somehow, you knew what the bloodbag was for. Even when you took it into the bathroom, you weren't sure what to believe. Then the hunger overcame you and you drank it. You remember going through hell for a while after that. After the changes, you cleaned yourself up, then the bathroom. Then some girl showed up looking for me. Said she was my assistant, come to help me pack. She was surprised that I wasn't there. She thought you were sick and offered to escort you to your car. After doing so, you dropped her off at home. Since then, you've been trying to get on with your life and be careful. You were waiting for the aforementioned "friends" to make contact. I believe this version will suffice as a primary narrative. Of course, the different interrogators will ask for details. Make sure you are ready to answer them." Rin wraps her arm through your elbow and begins to walk you to the pond edge again. The memory of the hotel, the balcony, her ice cold touch, the chill wind; they overlay the pond for a fleeting moment. After a few moments of silent walking, her arm still woven through yours, she begins. Rin thinks her words over carefully, speaking in reserved and measured tones. "The Camarilla is a Society of Kindred who strive towards their own view of what constitutes an ideal ordering of all the vampiric population. It regards liberty and equality as dispensable when weighed against tried-and-true tradition and perspectives of leaders whose age is measured in centuries. Within it's shell the Order has endured since the fifteenth century. It has suffered failings and it has achieved victories. Despite it's elitism and faults, it remains. It spans many regions across the world but it's territory certainly isn't continuous. Western Europe, The Northern Mediterranean and Eastern United States are where it's power is concentrated for the most part, though London and Vienna are lost. Russia, India and mainland Asia are almost entirely outside the Camarilla control, Tokyo being just such an exception. The Camarilla here is a cell of the Greater Society. It holds territories in two other cities of Tokyo. But it isn't the only society in Japan nor is it the eldest. Within the native Kindred Societies of Japan, the Camarilla doesn't even make the big five." "I'll tell you more about the other Societies later. Just know that the true power in Japan is The High Court, a unified authority of the three biggest Kindred factions. Each very different, but all very powerful and influential. Lesser factions, such as the Camarilla, reside in the Lower Courts and are submissive to the Dusk Accords which is an oath to abide the laws of the High Court. The Camarilla in Tokyo abide by the Accords rules first and foremost. Any faction or society or group that doesn't is declared an enemy of The Accords, a crime that typically caries the death sentence. In conclusion of that; there is a hierarchy of new rules for you to learn in due time." "Kaeyoni is name given to the Camarilla in the Lower Courts. It is a unique word, meaning Ivory Demons. This was the name used by the Camarilla's enemies during a supernatural war that took place years ago. I'll tell you more about that later, as well. Suffice to say, the name was well-earned. The power and skill of the Camarilla Kindred here is not to be understated. They proved themselves as faithful allies to the Accords in that war, and thus were granted Sanctioned Status and a seat in the Lower Court. In other words, the Tokyo Camarilla gained legitimacy." "Your comparisons are apt, though I'll offer some finer points. The Prince commands all Kaeyoni Kindred in Tokyo. Beneath him is the Primogen Council. It is currently comprised of eight members, each representing their respective clan. The Prince himself serves as the Primogen for his own clan. Though all decisions and issues are discussed by the Primogen Council, the Prince has the final say. Adjacent to the Primogen Council, is the Prince's Sheriff. His right hand enforcer, investigator, interrogator, and if needed, executioner. The Sheriff doesn't have a seat ON the council, yet he often attends the meetings and his insight is occasionally requested. Beneath the Primogen are other positions of importance and function. All the rest of us fall below that, under one rank or another. You are at the bottom, naturally. A fledgeling, they will call you." "Hunting is not killing. That is correct, for civilized kindred that is. Certainly within the Kaeyoni and under the Accords. Still, accidents happen, even to the eldest of us. Sometimes that Beast within simply will not be contained. Sometimes, a simple hunt gets complicated. Gets messy. The Societies understand this. A mistake here or there isn't a capitol crime. Under both set of rules, rule one is The Masquerade. The big lie. The grand illusion inflicted upon the mortals; That we do not exist. Letting mortals see you feed or display your powers, or otherwise neglecting to hide your nature from them, or telling them about our society. These will regarded as a betrayal of Kindred Society. You will only be forgiven of such transgressions a few times. One strike too many . . . . then Boone and his hounds come for you." She stops the slow walk and releases your arm. "Let us leave this place. I've told you much of what I dare to at this stage. Any burning questions, feel welcome to ask. I'll say what I can. But now comes time for practical learning, and we will need somewhere more secluded. Urban Trails will suffice."

Your leaps are well founded and logical from Kit's perspective. It is interesting to see the relationship unfold. And just because something is in your head, doesn't mean it isn't REAL. As far as metaknowledge, I haven't noticed any trangressions on your part, so carry on! I almost went on and on with her response, but decided not to unload the schpeel all in one text wall. As the night goes on, she will provide more details on these terms she is throwing at you (camarilla, kaeyoni, shukan, courts, primogen, prince, etc). But, if Kit asks specifically about one or more of these outright, she will answer accordingly.

Her voice is proud and forceful when she says, "Very well, I will teach you. In time, all that I know. You will be the best of me and more. You will surpass me, I have no doubts of that. And just call me Rin." She looks up at the night sky and sighs. "I wasn't always alone. I had MY sire for a time. He was harsh and expected much, yet rewarding and proud when I "got it right". After he met final death I lost the privilege of his guidance and influence. I was handed nothing; I had to claw and grasp for everything, EVERYTHING, I wanted. Those were difficult years. Without the rigorous teachings of your grandsire, I would not have survived them. Since him, I have found comfort from very few mortals and even fewer kindred. Your words were wise. Heed these; Tokyo is great mountain and there are many, many tigers that prowl it. Not just Kindred. There are Kuei-jin, Mutants and beast-folk aplenty. Most of them will not be inclined towards friendship with you; some of them would even try to devour you. Well, devour your vitae, anyway. I will teach you about each of them and others, soon. But not tonight, perhaps." "I'm glad to see you are being forward thinking already. Yes, we must be careful with what you know. Whoever finds you first will ask very . . . penetrating . . . questions. Ripley in particular will be very hard to fool. Her powers of Auspex are formidable. But she is not of our clan and I believe she will be unable to see or hear me in your memory. But that won't stop her from detecting when you are lying or keeping something unmentioned. Boone on the other hand; he prefers to compel truth by mere proximity. You will feel like you WANT to tell him things you otherwise wouldn't speak of. It's a very annoying gift he has. There is another member of the Society in particular who will undoubtedly interrogate you; Primogen Amos, the head of our clan here in Tokyo. He resides here in Toshima. He is a very old Kindred, powerful and wise, and wields incredible command over the Madness Web. You will find his questions odd, no doubt. But of the three, he has the best chance of discovering the truth of us. Assuming Ripley and Boone don't drag it out of you first." "Refugee to riches, indeed. Sadly, you will find much of the new terrain familiar. Nationality, religion or ethnicity generally speaking don't weigh for much in Kindred Society. Instead, kindred obsess over matters such as affiliation, allegiance and influence. All three of which you uttlerly lack at this time. And no, I don't WANT you to be a revolutionary. I EXPECT that you will shake things up by your mere existence. I have seen it; your coming will be as a the first drops of rain on a still pond. But not too much, and not too fast. Being labelled as a "change-bringer" is a deathwish in THIS particular society. In other parts of the world, where other kindred societies rule, things are different. But here in Tokyo, things are often rigid. Static, I would say. But there is change coming. The signs are everywhere. This society will get caught up in it, and either it will change willingly or be forced to adapt. Bend or break. But even if it shatters it will not end. From that maelstrom the Kaeyoni will emerge stronger, but no longer the same. No longer stagnant. Even Amos believes this; though, his allegiance and hopes are tied to the Prince. Ah yes, the Prince. Preston Varrick. The leader of Kaeyoni Society and the Camarilla in Japan. Very old, very powerful, very dangerous. I will tell you more about HIM, after we have passed through the crucible of questions." "And no, you will not get to run. Indeed, there are very few places in the world where the Camarilla could not reach you. You must meet this head-on, prepared and focused."

Apologies for the delayed response. A maelstrom of events kept me pretty tied up. Did you get your PC issue resolved?

Whether as a player or DM, Sandbox with Plot is *mhmm* just right!

Stoic and austere Rin listens to you talk. At first she appears to be hanging onto your every word. Then you realize she in fact scrutinizing you and everything you say with the critical eye of an appraiser. When you look out across the pond, you are aware that Rin continues to stare at you. When you finish there are several moments of silence then, "You don't even know the worst it. The worst of what I did to you and of what is coming your way. I didn't tell you then because . . ." you hear a swish of sash and a rustle of shifting lithe fabrics, and soft steps approaching, " . . . it would have complicated the process. Spoiled the moment. Courted calamity. I had plans for afterwards, to take you to a private location where you could be safely taught and prepared. I had intended on coaching you in the ways of Shuken, The Courts & The Camarilla before introducing you to Kaeyoni society. I won't be able to shelter you now, though. My absence will be noticed quickly and soon, very soon, someone or many someones will start investigating. Ripley already had her eye on me. Boone has always kept tabs on my activities. And there are . . . others . . . who will take an interest." She is standing right next to you now, joining your vigil over the pond. "Me being here. No, it's not normal. Kindred of our type have our own ways of communicating with each other through a phenomenon of dreams, visions and hallucinations known as The Madness Network. This is not that, not exactly. Maybe a mutation of our clan's already strange gift. Maybe an unintended consequence of your embrace. Whatever it's true nature I regard it as nothing short of destiny. I have produced a unique childe. What proof more do I need that I chose correctly?" She turns and looks at you, "You are special, Kit. The others were sketches. You are the finished work. My masterpiece. Yes, I knew there was a chance that you would not survive the transformation. Such a risk could not be completely mitigated. Yet I BELIEVED you would be the one. I had seen it, in a vision. Such sources are fickle and often double-sided, as this one was. I saw you and me together running the nights of our city. Of course, at the time I didn't realize that I would be sharing those nights from the comfort of your mind, only. There's always a catch." You feel her hand caress the side of your head. "You will always resent me, a little. I resented my Sire for a decade. And your passion for me will endure as well, until like all children, you outgrow the sentiment. This conflict within, the compulsion to devotion fused with a bitter detestment, is natural. It the bond of my Vitae which you consumed. Normally, when a kindred sires a childe, that childe is bound to the will of the sire. Enthralled, chained, perpetually influenced. This is the Blood Bond. It is a powerful and dangerous force. I will teach you more of this in time . . . " She stops stroking you hair, but her palm remains, softly touching the very spot where she had bitten you. "Let no imagined delusions weigh you down. You ARE special. Not from chance or luck. You were special before, but now . . . now you are MAGNIFICENT. You are going to shake the foundations of Tokyo, I just . . . know it . . . " Her hand slides away and she leaves you at the pond side, retaking her seat on the bench. "You are not a mistake, but I will not lie; Very few other than me will see it that way. Truth be told; I broke the rules. I wasn't permitted to create a childe. There are many reasons I was forbidden from doing so; I didn't agree with any of them. In kindred society the power of my blood is considered lowly. Too weak to embrace another, who will in turn posses even less potency. Nevermind my many personal achievements and contributions to the Society. Nevermind that my clan is under-represented in Tokyo. Nevermind our countless enemies and our need for fresh forces. Nevermind MY reasons. I was denied permission "for the good of the Kaeyoni". But I saw through the veil of lies and propaganda. They control the embracing because they fear and detest the mere possibility that they will lose grip on the vice they have clamped around the politics of our society. Listen to me. I sound like a fucking Anarch . . ." "You are right about one thing, Kit. A fledgeling in your position cannot afford to get sloppy or complacent, not ever. As it stands, you have deadly enemies you are not even aware of. Whats more, the kindred who should be your natural allies will at best treat you second-class and at worst try to manipulate you into a compromised position. But not everyone in our society will be such a detriment to you personally. There will be allies. Comrades. Confidantes. Maybe even a friend or two." "There is time for more questions and answers, but soon we will leave this charming shrine. Your training must begin tonight. Some basics."

Taro listens intently to your instructions, though his head is swaying and eyes are struggling to remain focused. When you finish he stands, lurches to one side, finds balance, lurches the other way, balances again, then resigns to plopping down onto the bench. He chuckles and shakes his head, then slaps his cheeks and blinks rapidly. Determined to stave off the crashing waves of chaos wreaking havoc on his mind, he straightens his back and faces you, feigning control of self. "Yo-your right, of course . . . that's enough dragon *hiccup* for one night . . ." he gestures to the bottle in your hand " . . . too much beast for one evening. Even, even for two *hiccup* two seasoned slayers as we . . ." "I will start calling the *hiccup* patriarchs in the mor-morning. Ask them to check for . . . footage . . . home se-*hiccup*-curity cameras . . . desk cams . . . stuff of that sort. I should've *hiccup* thought of that . . . before . . ." He starts to nod slowly, then jerks back straight, "Heavens . . . dear heavens I am *hiccup* properly *hiccup* drenched . . ." His eyes strain to focus on you, though you get the feeling he is seeing several Kits at the moment. His gaze flickers from your left and right and finally onto you. "I only drank *hiccup* a couple glasses more than you. Yet you are *hiccup* putting me to shame. So composed. I don't even know if I can stand back up . . ." His gaze lowers and he stares at the still pond, watching the Koi drift about. "I agree. About the perp, if it's *hiccup* just a person. Better to handle these things our . . . ourselves . . . I won't raise a hand against another *hiccup* person, unless honor demands that I defend another. Even then *hiccup* I could not bring myself to . . . to . . . to kill. Such horrible scenarios are best left to *hiccup* the justice of the streets." His expression hardens, the glossy drunkenness vanishing for a fleeting moment, replaced with mutual primal terror and righteous fury. Replaced with fire. "But I don't think it's just *hiccup* some person. I know it in my heart . . . no human has *hiccup* eyes like those . . . and the fear I felt . . . wasn't natural . . . the creature sent it . . . sent the fear . . . to chase *hiccup* me away . . . to make me flee . . . instead I STOOD. I STEPPED FORWARD. MY WILL WAS GREATER . . ." His bold words fade, the fire subsides, quenched by the return of the whiskey. He straightens back up and looks at you again, "Secure. Contain. Protect. I *hiccup* got it . . ." He leans to the side and stretches out on the bench, one leg dangling off, sandal-clad foot limp against the plush grass. His glossy eyes are staring up at the stars now. Your sharpened vision sees the heavens reflected in his watery gaze. One eye starts to droop closed, then the other, now only barely open slits. " . . . ya know what we *hiccup* need, Kit? Some food. Something *hiccup* deep-fried. Why don't ya go *hiccup* grab my wallet. i'll meet ya . . . meet ya . . at the car . . ." and with that, the eyes clamp shut and one hand slides off his belly and hangs alongside the limp leg. Not three seconds later, Taro's snores meld into the garden ambience. Mere moments of silence pass, then Aki is right beside you, looking down at the monk. "Couldn't ask for an easier meal. Do it. Your doing him a favor, after all. Least you can do is get something out of it. Go on." Sakura on the other hand, says "He's already drank enough. A sip from that monk will have him stumbling all over the place. If there is something hunting this neighborhood, the last thing he needs is-" Aki snarls, a beastial and feral abruption. She is actually looking at Sakura, "The FIRST thing he needs, is to accept his new role in the food chain. There is always something hunting, everywhere in this metropolis, all the time, every night." She moves with speed you've never imagined, closing the ten foot gap in the blink of an eye, crouched in a predator's hunch over the snoring monk. "It used to be me. I was the thing that went bump in the night. Except . . ." she runs a clawed finger across Taro's neck, her fangs elongating, quivering an inch above his throat, " . . . I never bumped. They would never hear me coming." Her gaze shifts to you. "If there is another hunter in this area, and I'm sure there IS, you need to be ready. Ready to fight. To do that, you need to feed, EVERY opportunity you get. Sentimentality will not fuel your powers . . . " She looks at Taro, then back to you, unexpectedly. Sakura doesn't look up from her phone screen, just merely says "Easy prey won't develop your hunting skills. You won't always have willing vessels and passed-out monks to rely on. You have a few hours until dawn. You can make better use of them if you aren't half-wasted." Aki starts to say "He mu-" then stops, staring past both of you. Staring at the entrance to the Shrine building. Sakura cranes her neck to look as well. Then you turn to look. Rin, beautiful and glowing, silhouetted by the candlelight within the Shrine. But also, monstrous and shadowed, a pale red gleam in her gaze. Without looking, you know that Aki and Sakura are gone. The night breeze has gone still. Hell, even the Koi have stopped swishing around. Rin's expression is neither warm nor cold, friendly nor hostile. She regards you with neutrality, as if she has cleared her own mind of emotion or preconceptions. With a fling of her sash, she walks toward you, stopping just feet away. "In our society, that is to say, Kindred Society; it traditionally falls upon a Sire to teach their Childe our ways. How to hunt responsibaly. How to conduct yourself amoung Kindred and Kine. How to use the Gifts of the Blood. How to use the powers of our Clan." She gestures for you to follow, and leads you to the other side of the pond, away from Taro's snores. She seats herself on a bench and gestures for you to sit on the bench across from her. "Although you devoured me during the thralldom of your newborn hunger; I am still your Sire, and you are still my Childe. I WILL teach you our ways, as my Sire taught me, and hers before. You are apart of a legacy, Kit. I did not choose you at random, or on a whim. The others . . . the failed attempts . . . were to make sure I got it right when it counted. Got YOU right. I believe I succeeded, despite the unfortunate fate that awaited me. Yet, the nature of our clan has gifted us a rare opportunity, perhaps even a unique one. I reside still within you. I can still teach you, as I would have done. I can guide you through this new life. Do you accept my offer?

Roger that. Hope the damage to ur checking account wasn't too heavy! I live in terror of something going amiss with my PC.

Taro grasps your hand and you pull him up easily and gracefully. His eyes have become glazed. For a moment after you lift him he wavers, teetering for balance. He laughs at himself, listening to you speak. "I haven't asked, but none of them have mentioned it. If they had some sort of footage, I'd imagine they would show me. I'll ask around though." Swaying not-so-slightly, he fills his glass again, and offers to fill yours. Not waiting, he gives a silent toast to you, then to the pool, then to the building. He knocks it back and straightens up, staring abruptly forward, face quivering, then releases a shaky exhale, fighting to remain composed. He almost has it beat. He is finding his momentum. Kami help us all . . . You are also experiencing a most peculiar phenomenon. The conservative amount of whiskey inside you is producing insights into your new "biology". Whereas when you drank blood earlier, it gushed down you into your . . . stomach? Perhaps. In truth, it feels more like a broiling black pit, even when you were full. A pulsing chasm within. And from that dark and undulating cavity pulsed the blood, now altered, into your chest and waist, then legs and arms, then finally the outer parts. From the extremities, the altered blood then pulses back to the pit, then out again. A continual, slow, throbbing transference of the blood from chasm to all, back to chasm. When you invoked the Flush, this process escalated. The circulation elevated and from the highways of vitae grew streets and alleys. But this whiskey is going into the chasm and staying, gathering into some static pool. It does not join the continual stream of vitae, though it seems to be altering the output vitae in some way. No, actually, it's not altering so much, it's influencing. The distinction feels . . . important, somehow. "I will send the details after I have spoken with Mr.Hamoki, the patriarch I speak of. And again, thank you. My provender for conflict is limited to the spiritual; but I simply could not raise my hand against another living person, even a potential pervert. That is not my place. Yet, I am mandated to provide or attain help for those who are faithful to my Shrine. Thus, I have entered a conflict of philosophy before any choice is made. Should this make sense? Even at the lowest level of Life, conflict reigns. Microbes devour microbes, or compete for other forms of energy. Yet, across the scale, I. Standing still, at conflict in my mind. Nevertheless, a hard decision is no excuse for wasting time. So my decision was to speak with you. Of course you didn't disappoint. I don't blame that on the whiskey, though . . ." He was a finger at you, "I'd bet my Shrine you would've helped me, booze or not." The bottle is half empty. You feel the booze clearly, and a with every glass you drink, the vitae is influenced further. Soon, you will be thoroughly. . . tipsy. Taro on the other hand, is one glass away from entering the realm of "divine inebriation".

Taro had been tense, awaiting your reaction. He relaxes at your jokes. He reaches one hand out and places it on your shoulder and squeezes. "You'll help! Really? Thank you. I was half worried you'd tell me to leave you out of my religious nonsense." The hand pulls back. "I normally wouldn't involve someone outside the faiths, but think a secularist might be what's needed. You see, I have tried to catch this foul spirit myself. A few nights ago, I spent the night at one of the victims place. This man has had the dream every 17th, for the past three months. So I waited outside the child's room. Just past midnight, I heard a creaking coming up the stairs. I admit, I was terrified. I watched. I saw . . ." He stares down into the pond, eyes distant and brow furrowed, " . . . something. A dark shape, like a head. And yellow eyes. Looking right at me. I've never felt more terrified, Kit. And yet, I've never felt braver. I felt, felt . . . it was like an indignation. Maybe anger. Whatever, it overwhelmed my fear. I've always believed, but I've never SEEN, never . . . faced a spirit before. I stood and lifted my Talisman, but before I could even start saying the banishment verses, the shape was gone. I heard quick creaks down the stairs, then quiet again." Taro drains his glass, refills it, and offers to refill yours. "I stayed until well into the morning. I never went to sleep. I spent the day in meditation and self cleansing. When I finally slept that evening, my rest was harried and tormented. The following morning, the man came and told me, that he had the dream again. Bruises on his wrists. Child is weak. I could barely look him in the eyes . . ." "It was then I knew. That this spirit will avoid me, will simply work around me. Perhaps will avoid ANY monk or faith worker. It is subtle and mindful and insidious. I no longer have any doubts. I am not going through the motions. I don't want to offer false comforts or empty promises to these men, these fathers. I want to help them. I MUST help them. Yet, if the spirit just slips away before I can confront it, then how will I ever perform the banishment?" He smiles, "That's why I thought of you, Kit. You may not believe in the things I believe, but you posses many qualities that some monks I know, lack. You are willful and determined. You have strong sense of self. You are no coward, but neither are you a reckless fool. And, you care about people. You may project otherwise as is wise, in your line of work. But I believe you do care. You're no Robin Hood, sure. You may use the people you help to benefit yourself, but you aren't merciless or gluttonous towards wealth. I've never seen you go out of your way to harm or abuse. In fact, I've seen you take risks on the behalf of others. You are well liked by many in the community. A few may NOT like you so much, but they don't know what they are missing." "If you would agree, I'd like to try another strategy. Tomorrow night, another man is . . . due . . . for a dream. I'd like to have you wait inside. I will explain to the man that you are a accomplice of mine, one who specializes in such spirits. I will tell him I am unable to come myself, because I will be performing a long ceremony for a recently deceased. He will believe me." "I will give you a tablet from the shrine here. It is an ancient artifact, so please treat it with care. If I understand it's history correctly, it was once used to compel spirits to feel dread. Perhaps it will cause the spirit to forsake the household for good. If it does work, I will go from there. If it doesn't, then I will have to await the advice from the grandmaster." "Though you may not believe in these matters as I do, that does not stop me from feeling obligated to say: there may be danger to this. If this spirit is strong enough to touch the living, to subdue grown men, then it could be strong enough to hurt you. I cannot promise that you will be safe. And I do not ask this favor lightly. If you can help me with this, I will return the service a hundred times over."

"I'll sing not another word, if it prevents you from disturbing the peace of my garden with your dread tone . . ." He elbows you playfully, but is surprised when his push doesn't even shift you. "The whiskey gives you strength! Or have you been going to a gym? Regardless, the drink seems to be having a good effect on you my friend. When you arrived, I was worried you were ill, how pale you were. Now though, I see you color has regained, and that old fire is back in the eyes!" "We should go out sometime. I know an excellent crossroads-bar on the far side of Kanto where we can spend an evening. The people there are very gracious, I assure you there won't be any problems with your heritage. And come midnight, I'll take you to a old temple near there. From that high place you will see the heavens unveiled, unhidden by the lights of modern comforts. Beauty! Beauty beyond imagining and words alone. We should go in the spring . . ." "And regarding heaven's stars . . . This is a key difference between you and I. This matter of looking up towards versus looking down into. We are both correct, our spirits are simply orientated differently. My Kami has indicated to me that I am of a Northern orientation. Yet I have always regarded you as one whose soul faces the South. There is no right or wrong there. Not has it ever hindered our questing together. For it is said, is it not, that opposites attract? Yet, I think that is too simplistic. I sense that our spirits simply find equilibrium with one another." "Very well, I shall come clean. The quest of this whiskey was of importance on its own accord. Yet, I did hope it would assist me in persuading you of another matter . . ." He takes another drink and hesitates, buying some time while he clearly thinks over his next words. "Many people come to this Shrine, for one reason or another. Most, come to honor the Kami and to seek blessings and protections for their households. Some, come to confess their shortcomings and seek the Kami's strength in overcoming their mortal failings. Others, come only enjoy the peace of my garden, using the tranquility to read or rest. I interact with most of any of these folks; I take their prayers, hear their requests, lead them in rites, or simply listen to their troubles and provide advice. Normally, I would never divulge or discuss any of what I discuss with them, to a third party. Normally, I would never betray the trust of any of my Shrine-comers." He sighs, says a short prayer under his breath, then continues, "Over a dozen of these people have described a most peculiar phenomenon. One that is both puzzling and troubling. First detail to note is, that they are each locals, that is to say, they reside here in Ikebukuro or very close. Second detail is; they are each rather devout spiritualists, dutiful and consistent. And finally, they are all male, and furthermore, fathers of large families. That being so, they are all well on in their years, the youngest of this group just turned forty." "Now, though some of these know each other, and a few are even friends, everyone single one of them discussed with me a very troubling experience. These experiences vary somewhat from each to each, but there are a couple of through lines to the accounts. Here is what they generally describe to me: That once a month, they have a bad dream. In this dream, they awake in the night, hearing the sound of their youngest male child crying. In the dream, their wives never wake, nor seem to hear the crying. The men say that they arise and go to their child's room, and find a woman in black clothes . . . um . . ." He steels himself and pushes on, "They say they find this woman on top of their child, pinning them down, one hand clamped over the mouth to muffle the crying. And that she . . . she . . . is biting their necks. Some men say that this woman is stealing their Chi, and some say she is taking their blood. They all say the following though; that when they run in to stop the woman, she overpowers them quickly, and the dream ends. They say they wake up hours later, in bed. Many say they will find bruises on themselves, or be sore, as if from a fight. Most go to check on the children, only to find them sound asleep and undisturbed. Yet, many of these men say that after having this dream, their youngest child is tired, lethargic, and depressed. This seems to only last a day or two. Some have taken their child to the doctor, but no disease or injury is detected." "I started hearing this story a few months ago, and at first dismissed it as merely bad dreams. But now, having heard nearly the exact same story from over a dozen men, all devout, all over a certain age, all having sired at least four children; I have become concerned. My first response was to perform powerful rites of household protections and to provide potent blessings of empowerment upon the fathers. Yet, the experiences continue to occur. It may seem a ridiculous theory to you, but I believe these experiences cannot be mere coincidences; I believe, that some sort of foul spirit is attacking these households. The police cannot do anything, even if they took it seriously. And I have done all I can personally. Yet, my flock still comes to me, seeking answers, seeking help. So, I've reached out to a Grandmaster in Nigoshi for wisdom. And also, I am now asking you to help."

A minute later Taro returns, closing the doors behind him. He has two drinking glasses in one hand. When he sees you holding the bottle, he laughs and hurries over to reclaim his bench. "I see you have committed yourself properly! Forgive my oversight earlier . . ." he clinks the two glasses down on the bench between " . . . behold, blades to slay a dragon!" He takes the bottle out of your hand and half-fills both glasses. Setting the bottle aside he then grabs one glass and gestures for you to take the other. After you have equipped yourself for battle, he raises his glass and says "To ancient times, and distant music!". You clink glasses and knock them back. Though it's easier to take the amber fire from the glass, doing so does nothing to alleviate the flavored inferno. Taro hunches over coughing, head hanging down. Then, he throws his arms up and begins to sing: "Men have been living together with Matsuri! God of mountains, God of the sea. Thank you very much for everything you've done for us this year! Snow is dancing on young men who are wearing white loincloths; It's Matsuri, matsuri, matsuri, Matsuri of good harvest . . ." Taro leaps to his feet and points one hand at you and the other hand gestures wildly about the garden. "Soil-infused hand, My son, It's our treasure! Men become more manly with Matsuri. God of mountains, God of the sea. Thank you very much for our lives and bounty! Against the wind, fishermen sail on a ship that has a five-color flag; It's a Matsuri, matsuri, matsuri, Matsuri granting a good catch of fish . . ." He then crouches next to you and puts one arm around your shoulders, the other raises to point at the neon-tinged sky. "Look,The red sun is rising. My son, Row the boat the fastest! Go for it like fire. Tears and sweat are men's dreams! I'll live intensely again.That's Japan's Matsuriiiiii . . . . ." He drags the last line out dramatically then plops down onto the ground and sits against the bench, like you. Leaning his head back he pants to catch some breathe. Looking up at the night sky, he says "Wish I could see the stars tonight. All this light pollution . . . obscures the heavens. We forget that we are all part of something much bigger. When's the last time you been out in the country, Kit, heh? When's the last time you've looked into the infinite?" The booze is starting to kick in for Taro, you can tell. This is how it always starts with him. Before long, the monk will begin expounding metaphorics. After that, if he keeps drinking, it will go one of two ways. Either he will travel full circle back into his un-serious carefree manner with a determination to "keep the quest afoot", or he will push forward into full-on mystic musings. You can never tell which will come.

+10,000xp for The Matrix reference

I understand! No worries, I GUESS I'll just have to watch an extra episode or two of Supernatural dag-nabit. I'm trying to hone in on the different personality approaches between Rin's personas. That includes style when it comes to instruction/mentoring. I felt that Aki would have a very demanding/challenge yourself/don't disappoint me style. Mayhaps she meant what she said about "making you do it". Or maybe she merely sought to "up the stakes".

You feel your insides settling back into . . . normalcy? How they had felt before this attempt, anyway. With a certainty you know that this first attempt failed horribly. And yet, and yet . . . For a fleeting moment you had felt yourself grasp in hand the very reservoir that Sakura had described. You FELT it there clearly. Raw, seething, red power. What's more, it didn't resist your summons. The surge of . . . vitae . . . didn't just respond when you called on it. It LEAPT. It erupted. It . . . reveled when you beckoned. Like water bursting from the top of an open plastic bottle that is suddenly crushed. Like air from a balloon that is popped. You hadn't been expecting that . . . "The young blood of a fledgling. It is wild and brazen. I could not have warned you, for how could you understand that which you had never experienced? But you have felt it now, haven't you? Your vitae is the source of your power; but it is also the housing of your Beast. The beast! The beast! Trapped in that cage within! The more vitae you hold the larger it's prison, and thus the less it strains against your bars. But the hungrier you get, the smaller the cage, and all the more that Beast will pry at the bars and seek to break out. Yet, to be full does not mean that the beast is at rest. No, no; Your Beast will never sleep. Even when you are full, as you were, The Beast is always ready to press you. To break out. You must never let-" Her stroking hand abruptly loses it's gentleness, and you feel the fingers grasp the top of your head and pull it back, forcing you to look into her eyes . . . But Sakura is gone. There is heavy black eyeliner and lipstick, spiked choker. Aki holds you in place and her eyes gleam red and her fangs are bared and she is looking at you with outrage. "You bear the legacy of my power and yet you fail to manifest the LEAST of my gifts! Perhaps the blood runs too thin in you! Was my bestowment in vain? Perhaps I chose my childe too quickly! Or is it that you are not yet committed? Is it motivation that you lack, eh!? Hear me now, my precious Kit . . ." She jerks your head to the side and makes you face the doorway into the Shrine building, towards the muffled voice of Taro and his late night visitor. Aki's lips are now right next to your ear. Though her words carry no breath, they nevertheless crash into your mind. "You will try again. I will not abide the shame of your incompetence. And if more vitae is needed . . ." her malevolent whispers become heartless giggles, " . . . your charming monk will provide refreshment. I will make you do it. I will make you take it all . . ." And just like that, the clutching hand is gone and you fall forward, hands back onto the garden soil. The garden is silent again, except for gentle lapping of the pond and swaying of the plants. In the building, you hear Taro's soft voice, " . . . very well, I will see to the rites for your mother's offering. I pray that her vigor returns soon. Come, kneel with me and let us beseech for blessings upon your household . . ." You guess you have a minute or two before Taro returns. Practice makes perfect . . .You may try again before Taro returns.