You're killing off the shadows. You bury them all the same side down. Now they keep calling out your name.

"This! This is why I don't get involved with Camarilla political...bullshit!" I growl under my breath as I strip off my sooty, reeking clothes. Flopping face down on the bed, I sigh into the comforter and rub my temples with my knuckles. All but the most tedious and well known voices have been silenced. Not like I had much time to bask in the pleasant, if a little disconcerting, silence. While I'm normally chomping at the bit to be in the front lines for some bloodshed, tonight's assault just seemed fruitless.

With flames flickering, and Tybalt's shroud obscuring views for all but the most keen eyed in our cavalry, I couldn't of been the only one with misgivings over this blood hunt. Not even for the obvious reasons, my own and the other's attacks being brushed aside as easily as a friendly pat on the back. Surely, if Tybalt was such a threat...wouldn't we all be dead? At the least, I considered the Prince of Las Vegas an ally-by-association. I didn't even need to look at Mongrel's aura to know how conflicted this situation was making him. My temper flared as my gaze settled on Pyotr through the gloom and flurry of fists. This is his doing. I'd probably die trying but if any of this leads to my Mongrel getting hurt for his loyalty...I cut the seething train of thought off with a quick glance at E. Attention focused on the battle, my wayward reasoning is unnoticed by the Nosferatu. It all ended just as abruptly as it began. Pyotr taking off, recuperating. Tybalt's words echoing in our ears "Hand over the Regent...I don't want to kill any of you." For what it's worth, I believe you. Too bad the word of a permanently addled Malkavian doesn't hold any weight.

Then, to my discontent, there was still the matter of the Elders to appease. With plenty going on in my own head, I figured it would be easy enough to give the truly commendable gift of my silence to these formidable Kindred. A gift wasted as the Elders were reported to have taken off. I'm indifferent until later in the night when the Tremere all scatter like farts are fire and their asses are catching. Then I hear the Tzimisce Elders have abducted Lucy Talbot. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Who's to blame for this shit?" Miss Lucy is one of the few Kindred to show this pink haired lunatic compassion. I am not pleased at all. I hear murmuring from other Kindred. "Crovax..." Why am I NOT surprised this leads back to him? Should'a peeled him like a grapefruit when he first called me Maddie...The urge to eviscerate someone is reaching a fever pitch and it takes every once of self control to remove myself from Elysium. Remembering I promised to behave and remembering I'm...grounded...I grit my teeth at the thought and head back to the haven. My attempts to prematurely use Celerity do nothing but irk me more and remind me of the impending danger my teacher is in.

Now, partially undressed and muttering grimly to myself, I hop off the bed. Grounded or not. I need to take someone apart. Grabbing a lacy sundress off the floor, I head back out, pausing only to grab a butcher knife from my nightstand and slip it into my boot. I take to the streets of Baltimore. When the inevitable foolish mortal invites me back to his place, it's not the young man's terrified visage I see as I cut and fillet essential chunks of flesh, but some familiar faces of Kindred currently occupying my thoughts.