Konrad Vrdoljiak

(butterfly)
it had watched its friend it had seen it when the final blow was struck that pushed him into the sweet oblivion of unconciousness, it had seen the one without honor continue to torture even after the cat lay so close to death and only fled when one began to cross over. now on rainbow wings it finds itself seeking one it would if it could avoid one who deals with death. yet for this it must endure. to Ruv Ra'gon butterfly whispers its message imporing for help.

"your furred cousin, child of both gods, the one of basts blood has been taken by those of your blood. he who rivaled him for love of your family now. holds him"

another has to be visited still tonight a lover needs to know as well.

(ra'gon)
It was a rather odd chilly day as Ruv sat there upon his stump overlooking the Yard of Bones and listening to the panderings of 'Johanuss' about why the Iriqouis are Savages and why the Hurons are devils. ~Cannibals?~

"Im sorry Johanuss" His hand softly caressed the old grayed bone of Johanuss' skull "Did you say Cannibals?" Rolling his eyes as the ghost decided to explain the dynamics of such an 'uncivilized, uncultured, birthed of sin and satinic peoples' to him.

"Johanuss, the savages are all about us. You will keep watch yes? Let us know should the French or the savages come?" A sly grin he gave to the skull his hand was stroking upon.

And then he saw it. Odd actually, so chilly and yet a spring and summer insect was flapping it gorgious colours around to the beat of....Eyes widen ~Holy shit it talks!~

Obviously Ruv would not notice how far his mouth had dropped. Nor would he notice how angry Johanuss was for the sudden ignore of his words. ~A spirit...A butterfly spirit?Talking to me?~ Eyes quizically glint from left to right ~Message? From whom? OoooooOOO!~

He could not answer the alien spirit, he had no words to give it. Of life, birth and happiness it seemed to breath upon him; upon Ruv who worshipped Death, Decay and the darkest points of Balance. Now his body tingled alive, odd sensations sparked upon every fiber, raising every hair in static splendor. ~wowww~ And then it was gone. No longer to linger, the spirit had left.

Ignoring the grumbling protests of Johanuss he pondered the riddled missing words of the Butterfly. ~Harlequin? Trouble..who has em? Rival for Pena?~ Head cants as his thoughts fleet upon The Builder. Eyes narrow as the image of the Builder is replaced by that of Simon, the angst between the two he recalled suddenly.

He stood sudden, letting the bones of Johanuss crumble to the stump. Shrugging off the screams of ire as the ghost makes his rumbles behind him. The door of the large vardo opens wide.

"Pena..find the Dell. Nadja! Nadja! find the Builder..bring him here. Something came to me with words of our Prala Harlequin"

(gemile)
She was leaning back in the Captain's chair, watching the last bit of CNN when the vardo doorway suddenly opened, sending a hurling chill inside the once warm shelter. Her had snapped to the side, eyes narrowing at the site of her Prala. A brow arched as she sat up, resting arms upon kneecaps.

"Come inside and tell us what happened first..." her gaze flashing to her twin mirror image, then back again, "I'm not going to rush off to the Del without telling him what the importance is."

(ra'gon)
"Well...." Slipping towards the couch to settle himself down with a smile instead of a frown. Odd? Isnt that Odd? "Well" Smiling bright "It rather was one of the most exilerating experiences I have ever had. A butterfly told me" Nodding with that same odd smile quite vigorously as if that was enough to settle her food for thoughts. It was momentarily for him.

(gemile)
Brows folded to creases as she watched him, like a boy who just had his first kiss, beaming with inner exhileration over to the couch and plop down. With his words, both her thin brows slowly raised, "You.... just talked... to a Butterfly."

Clearing her throat, flashing hazel orbs to her sister again, then back to Prala. He must be on X again. A hand rolling around in the air to beckon a contiuance from him, "Annnnnnddddd....."

(ra'gon)
"And what?" Shrugging before his eyes snapped wide "OH! right." Almost forgetting the words the alien spirit had uttered upon coloured wings to him. Weren't they important? If so, why did he feel for the moment that the presence of such a spiritual entity overshadowed the predicament of his Prala? "Yeah, Harlequin has been...." Glancing up and to his left "Hurt maybe? Taken?" Shrugging "I can't rightly remember..I just know that butterfly had a very awesome effect on my skin"

(eleanor)
The threads between shared friends is impossibly thin.

The door to the third floor slams shut, shuddering hard upon its hinges and frame as the young felines snarls in futility. The darkness of the stairwell is cool, but it provides little comfort to her Rage fired blood. Damn him! Hands become fists, useless fists, which blanch white knuckled. The young child of Bast turns to press her forehead agianst the cool black marble pannels that adorn the walls, her jade eyes closed as she draws measures of cool, calming breath.

When she has quietted, a presence makes itself felt. It is little more than a disturbance, a soft prickle of light scarcely seen a few precious inches to her left. It mutes immediatly with the descent of two patrons, who press through the doorway and spare the young Cat no small leering look. But with their passing, the small mote reassures its existence, coming to being once again.

She is young, but she is still an ally to be called. And there is no doubt that she would fail to answer her dearest Companion. Hello, Child. I have a favour to ask. I have a friend...

(judah)
Cymaa. The place where so many odd events had taken place over the course of a few months. It lay cold now, cold as a crypt made for nothing more than to house the dead.

There were many rooms and many passages and many secrets within those crypt(ic) like walls. More so perhaps that anyone realised, certainly more than the dogs cared to see.

Wearing no more than comfortable cotton pants and a beautiful gold Scarab necklace, Judah Alexander Rahotep walked slowly the narrow dark path that led to the front door of the Club. He stood there, observing the darkness of the steel door, the fine etched glass ... the way the shadows shrunk back into the corners of the walls as his eyes rolled over their darkened tendrils.

His words flowed freely in Enochian (... A ka dua...tuf ur biu...bi aua chefu...dudu nur af....an nuteru...) as a hand stained with blood washes over the front entry to Cymaa. Turning, he starts back down the hall ... hand trailing down the glyph laden wall, his lips repeating the chant over and over and over ....

It is night now. The club is no longer the cold and claustrophobic crypt it was during the day. It is the heat of night, bodies pulse and sweat, music courses like a living being, taking a piece of each dancers soul and transferring it like some contagion to another...empowering...

He has showered. There's the slightest tingle, however, once dressed, that sets him on edge. The hair along the back of his neck rises to attention and bright green eyes narrow.

His steps are quick, and as he's easing down the stairwell, his footfalls likely register different than others to her keen ears ... they are lighter, he pauses upon reaching the Kitten .... his eyes searching the blackened space around her.

"What is going on?"

(nadja)
She'd heard Prala's jumbled calls from the back bedroom. . Harlequin? Coming up front she looked from her mirror image to Prala quizzically.

"But Prala, I saw Harlequin just last night, at the boardwalk. He looked fine, was in his usual mode of flirting with everything."

(gemile)
Brows creasing deeper, if at all possible, as she stares at Ra'gon. Blink. Blink.

Lips parting to speak as she raised from her chair, a hand smoothing over the top of her head. Nadja's words quelled her own, and she turned to look at her image. Blink. Blink.

Shaking her head, "Wait wait," hands waving in the air before one comes down to point at Ra'gon, "Are you on drugs? And if your not, then explain..."

(ra'gon)
Shaking his head "Look..all I know is Mr Twinkles is in trouble. And..." Rolling those eyes as his thoughts caused him pause ~Feline's? Bugs? Connection? Its not likely they converse with our spirits, so....perhaps....Bugs. Well no wonder they all sit and stare at em. Flies on the otherhand...Jesus Christ Ruv! You're thinking to hard about this shit. It was a Butterfly!~ Brows furrowing in mid sentence "You think cats talk to bugs when they make that god aweful machine gun sound from their throat? You know. That ackaackaakaackaa sound?" Canting his head towards Gemile.

"No I am not on drugs. Im trying to figure out how Mr Twinkles sent me a message using a Bug Spirit. For christ' sakes woman listen!"

Rising from couch "The Butterfly spirit said this and I quote your butt grooming cousin is a child of two gods but only prays to Bast!" Fluttering his eyelashes "Hello? Thats Harlequin, aka Mr Twinkles. Let me finish the quote." Clearing his throat "Where did I leave off? Oh yeah right. Being drinched in blood, was taken by a rival for our Pena's heart."

Casting his brows towards Nadja "Soooooooo Either the Builder has em, which I doubt" Dismissing the thought quickly, not really seeing Noah as being 'that' shitty "Or Simon has em. And if that is the case, it wont be long before that slippery little snot runs off and tells his Lord Marshall Farkwad what Harlequin really is...thussssss" Raising a finger "We have to mount a counter insergence. I say we kill the rock giver."

Quickly pointing towards Gemile "Did you save any of his gifts? You know" snapping his fingers quickly "Those funny rocks he sent her? If so give it to me and we'll find him. Where was I?" Canting his head back towards Nadja "Riiiiight. Kill the rock giver, rescue Mr Twinkles, hide him with our cousins on the boardwalk" Snickering "You know I just thought of something funny. Beach? Sandbox? Litter?" Eyes darting between the two mirror images before rolling "You fuckers have no sense of humor. Ooooor! We wait for the Del and ask him what we should do. Sense I can tell by both your wide eyes I said kill just alittle to soon."

Turning from them just a moment before snapping back with another interjection "Nadja? You have anymore suitors we don't know about? I'd hate to lob off the wrong buck's head." Head Canting as his fingers snap quickly again "Heey what about that other cat? You know the one he was always with? Shit..Nadja! get out your sewing needles. I need a small yarn pouch for my catnip..I mean mint. We'll summon the little bastard we will. Also, I might actually have to go seeking a Unicorn about bug spirits"

(gemile)
Lips pursing together as an attempt to supress a snicker at Ra'gon's name for their Prala. Failing, she only shakes her head and chuckles before her attention fell again back upon the Darkside of the force.

Mouth opens, snaps shut. ~Rival blood huh what?~ hands going to her hips. ~Noah or Simon.. right right. No the Builder wouldn't touch em, not his style...~ Mouth opens, shuts. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, eyes flashing to Nadja at the query. ~Any more suitors? Well... hmm... she might but I don't think so, then again...~

"Oh just get a sock for the catnip or mint or whatever." Pausing as she makes her way to the liquor cabinet, "And whyyy do we want to find the other cat?" Crouching down, hands shuffle thru the stocked bottles for a box of, what apparently reads, martini stir sticks, "Lets wait to jump at killing them." All. Standing, she turns around, nimble fingers opening the cardboard and handing the box to Ra'gon, "First, yes we go find the Del." Nibbling on her bottom lip, her eyes roll around as she ponders possibilites, "As for the Builder. I'm not positive we should involve him... yet. He is gajo, and this is.. until Mr. Twinkles identity is discovered... a Rom situation. Del first."

(ra'gon)
"You are absolutely right Gemile! Save for solely us Rom. Lets get Mr Twinkles little buddy a call. I think that child of Bast might just want to help find our Prala. He is a cat too afterall." Grumbling "Damn furball."

Sighing after his hands place themselves upon his hips. A definate show of those wheels and cogs churning upstairs in his cavern of dark mystery.

"I have a plan. Its spewing out of my head faster than I can give it to words. So follow me as best as you can. I awaken the spirit of this catmint, we each take alittle bit in a pouch and wear it around our necks. Thus why I didnt ask for a sock Gemile...keep up, your fuckin with the plan." Snapping his forefinger towards her like a lecture.

"Sooo in short we are all like walking beackons of yummy yummies for this buddy of his. Its black, its bigger than a house cat and has big yellow eyes. So that means we have no idea what this fucker looks like. And we have no idea where this bloke could be. So we split up and walk all around the woods tonight." Canting his head "Here kitty kitty wont cut it. Don't do it, don't think it, I've heard tails that these creatures read minds and steal secrets from your breath. Lets not tempt fate here Pena's."

"Tomorrow we could go to city. We go to Prala's haunts. That Egyptain Club, the Diner and the Boardwalk. If that fuckin cat is around, it'll sure enough come to us."

Grinning ear to ear. "So..whatcha think? Sure needs alittle sprucen up here and there..but its a sound plan right?" His eyes were casting between them both.

(gemile)
"A sound plan?" Lashes fluttering as she stares up at him, "Um... no. It sounds good, but I have a few problems with it." Raising a finger, index pointing straight up, "One, I've seen what catnip does to house cats. They get all freaky and scratch and roll around on the shit." Blinks, "Two, does this plant your talking about attract just big cats or little house and alley cats too?" Eyes going wider as her hand thrusts towards his chest, finger pocking on his solar plex, "Because I am not going to be the Pied-Fucking-Piper of Kitty Nation and neither is our Pena," hand rolling off of Ra'gon to gesture absently behind her where she last saw Nadja, "Thats like turing us into a big crackrock and slamming us down in the middle of Junkie-alley. Uh-uh. No way." Shaking her head, arms crossing over her chest as she stares up at him in defiance, "Its a good plan... to a point. Yes, searching Mr.Twinkles's haunts is a fabulous idea. I think we should definitly try that at least. But, you have the stones as well." Canting her head towards the box in his hand, "I think we need to find the Del, right off the bat and see what he says about all this. I might go with the idea of us walking around the woods with that herb of yours, but I'm sure as hell not going into the city with it until I know what it does exactly, and I'm not letting either of you two do it as well. I mean, your right, we don't even know what the hairball looks like! Priorities!" slapping her hands together now, knuckles on plams, "We need to sort our priorities! Del first."

(ra'gon)
Nods "Uh-huh..and in the meantime what? We pray our Prala is safe? Time is of the essence Gemile...So where is Del Khepera?" Casting his brows to both she and Nadja who was oddly quiet. ~UH OH!~ The alarm bells chiming off "Nadjaaaa..what are you thinking?"

(nadja)
But she doesn't look like she had been thinking of much, was actually still a bit stunned. It'd only been last night she had seen him, and though the interaction with that woman had been, well, almost hostile at times. . . she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary.

"Well, we surely need to find Prala Harlequin. If indeed Simon was involved. . . well, we've still the three stones if it helps. Simon called them heartstone, not that I am sure what that is or if its important. And the woman who was with Harlequin last night? I didn't know her, nor if she was Garou, a child of bast or otherwise normal. . . but perhaps she saw something. . . "

There'd been that strange, almost hostile aura at times. Harlequin had been trying ointimidate her. She'd asumed because the woman wasn't repsonding as he wished. . .

"Or maybe she was involved. . . they hadn't seemed too greatly pleased with each other, but I assumed Prala was merely finding a gaje woman who had a smidgeon of self control. . . "

Looking from one to the other. Had she been the last to see Prala? If only she had stayed. . .

(nadja)
Nodding her head, she sighed a breath and went back to the captain's chair to sit. Leaning over to slide black boots on, "Ok, Nadja you come with me, since you saw him last and you saw who he was with last. We'll start at the Walk, make our way to that club he loves so much. If we run into the Del, then we'll tell him then. Ra'gon, you do this kittycrack thing and see what you can round up. We'll meet back here and start tracking Simon." Quickly lacing up, she stands and makes her way to the back bedroom, "Last peson lock up the Vardo and stay the hell away from Thunder's Children till we regroup."

(khepera)

~They seek to find their wayward Del. One would think, knowing what he was, being a child of the great Water Spirit, Uktena.. That he may be drawn to water. Or at least somewhere near it.. There was only a few places he haunted. And one area he called home~

(konrad)
All the hustle and bustle next door has not gone unnoticed.

Up on the headlands over the graveyard where the Rom have made their home - made it in a peninsula of territory surrounded by his land - the Ahroun watches in his wolf form: silent, black, motionless save for the stirring of his fur in the wind.

He's too far to hear them. He's too far to be easily seen. But he can see them, busy little Striders that they are.

Perhaps a little too busy.

The air around him shimmers. He pulls into the Otherworld - reemerges in his home. Rummaging through his roughhewn desk, he finds his cellular (no phone lines come out to this place) and curses softly at the reception. Paces to the window, facing the general direction of the city, and the cellular antennae. Waits until the message shows up on the little screen:

Welcome to AT&T Wireless.

Presses buttons. Holds the phone to his ear. Waits for it to ring, ring, ring, until the other end finally picks up.

"Simon. Konrad." He wanders away from the window, pours himself a glass of water. "Quite a bit of commotion next door, today. Looks like someone raised the alert. They push our hand. They might attempt to intervene. Interfere with justice. There is no time for a trial."

Something replied through the earpiece, indecipherable. A pause. The Ahroun returns to the window and looks into the east, eyes narrowed, sipping from his glass.

"If we err, we will err on the side of caution.

"Execute him."