Christian- The San Diego Chronicles

Joined: 28 Nov 2007 Posts: 23

The roar of the harley-davidson motorcycle echoed into the night surrounding the sparsely lit interstate. The road seemed to be neverending, the only company the man riding the mechanical monstrosity and that was just the way Christian liked it. He couldn't think of any other place to be than the road he was on. It was mid January, the cold usualy enough at this time of night to send even the roughest of men to shelter to avoid frostbite. Chris couldn't feel it though, not anymore... not since New Orleans months back.

"I'd rather feel a chill run through my bones than this." The sound of his voice was drowned out by the roaring engine but he didn't care. He was only talking to himself after all. He gripped the throttle with pale hands, ungloved against the cold of the night, and sent the bike into a renewed vigor that would send it speeding down the interstate.

Large signs passed overhead, the destination before him San Diego. It'd been a long time since he'd been here. Not since '04 with the Guerillas, the biker gang that he used to run with. "Funny how that would be the same damn name Esteban had for his pack." He cackled to himself before shaking his head. His dark eyes would watch the road though, ever perceptive to the world around him, "Out of one hell and into another. It's enough to drive a man insane." Tall buildings loomed overhead in the night now after half an hours drive, their dark windows shining under the light around.

"Mm, hey papi!" One of the street walkers called out to him from the corner as he passed by, looking to draw his attention. A laugh only greeted her as his sharp eyes caught the glint of a police badge. It was a wonder none of the gangs had shown themselves yet. The crackheads were out, a few passing as the like from the look of them under the shadow of the passing street light. Damned loons, swear some of these freaks could pass for unmasqued kindred.

The engine of the bike slowly died down as he pulled into a parking garage, the roar from moments later calming to a low chug as he rolled down the ramps into the underground garage before finding a spot in the center. He'd slip out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter before popping the case against one hand and producing one. A small flame came to life at the end of the lighter and he'd just stare at it for a few moments. Funny how months later the damn thing would have made him flinch. It seemed he'd gained a Nicotine craving over time again.

He raised that hand to deposit the end of the cancer stick between his lips before lighting it to draw in a dead lung full of the stuff before putting the lighter away as he sat back on the bike with his back arched, "Any time now big brother." He muttered to himself before turning his head to gaze into the shadows. Nothing escaped those eyes he thought to himself, not even the damned robed pansies. His gaze would redirect though only to be startled. Good thing he knew better than to jump. Standing before him was a tall spanish man in a suit of all things, sunken eyes marking the look with pale flesh. A long scar ran the length of his jaw, ending just below his ear from what looked to be a blade. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show brother." The man's voice was deep, an otherworldly sound to it afforded to the elders. He wasn't quite that old though to Chris's knowledge.

Chris only took a long drag of the cancer stick before allowing the smoke to pass through his lips into the night air as he flicked the thing down to the ground at his feet, "Yeah? Takes a damn while to come this far you know Seniro." He quickly retorted before narrowing his eyes at the man's frown, "What do you want with me anyway?"

The man only stared at him for a long moment, what seemed like ages before parting his pale lips in a reply, "Don't forget which of us is the fledgling. Unavoidable sunrises do happen." His voice was cold, cutting to the bone like the chill air around them but it affected Christian more than the latter. The man had met his gaze in that moment, something that could make a lesser man shudder at the thought of the things he could do with it, "Alright m'lord. What do you ask of me?"

"You're to follow one of my men down Main. He'll be stopping at one of the buildings there. What I want you to do is scout the place.....one of your type wouldn't look so suspicious in the area and if the fascists got ahold of you...you could easily pass for one of their own." The man stood stock still there with crossed arms over his business suit as he regarded the larger biker, "You're going tomorrow night. He'll be outside wherever you chose to take residence and if you come back with anything you'll prove your worth to your brothers." The man would take another step forward, his expensive shoes stepping into an outlying shadow before suddenly disappearing from view. Christian only looked forward after that, considering to himself if it was worth coming to San Diego then. Maybe it wasn't quite so smart of him after all.

Joined: 28 Nov 2007 Posts: 23

It was a long day come sunrise and Christian had holed himself up in a hotel room, thick curtains drawn to block out any sunlight from the temporary haven. He'd stopped by one of the clubs earlier that night. Some college joint called "Club Gothic". Bunch of freaks but he didn't care... he'd found a particularly good supply of vitae in one of the meatbags he'd found there.

Daylight was finally beginning to wane into darkness, a very small fringe of light etching against the rim of the curtains. Christian got up from the bed to leave the pale young woman lying there half unconscious from loss of blood. He knew better than to leave them dead in his wake now, particularly after a run-in in Houston, Texas when he'd had to deal with an Anarch street gang whom's ghoul he'd left behind as an empty shell. One of them survived that encounter and Christian barely made it out with unlife still clinging to his dead corpse.

He left the hotel room behind, heading out to the parking lot behind the hotel as darkness finally took full shape. A beat up old Lincoln with tinted windows sat waiting for him. He wondered if the driver could even see out of the damn things they were so dark. It had the tell-tale sign of his current employer though, an inverted black cross on the front driver's side rim too small for a normal man to have seen from the distance.

Chris mounted his bike when noticing that, taking his own sweet time as he reached into his coat pocket to produce a silver key. He'd slip the key into the ignition and turn it, bringing the bike to life with a slow chug. The bike didn't need to be warmed up but he'd let it anyway. He didn't like Seniro's pets and he hated it even more at the moment that he was having to answer to one. Soon enough the Lincoln pulled out from the lot. Christian allowed it to continue onward for a while before revving the engine and heading out in pursuit. It wouldn't do good to come in right behind it, too suspicious for whatever this little trip was meant to be.

Half an hour would be spent navigating the dark streets of the ghetto, heading in and out between the rougher parts of San Diego in pursuit of that beaten up Lincoln. Nobody would bother it, it had the looks of a resident that would know how to handle whatever came its way. Chris on the other hand would be left alone as well. He had the look of a gang biker at the moment. Some wouldn't bother after getting a good look at him.

The Lincoln slowed down to barely a crawl in front of an old housing complex long abandoned before speeding off into the night. He knew that sign and he'd pay heed to it as he circled around further down the block to pull into an alleyway not a few buildings off. The bike came to a low chug, losing life as he allowed it to die before pulling the key from the ignition and swinging a leg over to lower to the asphalt with the crunch of boots rattle of chain on chain. "Let's see what the shadow wants me to find."