Search for my Savior

[Celeste Darken]

Let me see if I can divert the debate that seems brewing, if it hasn’t escalated outright. The ambiguous title was intentional. We have talked about enlightenment and redemption enough that this seems appropriate. As I have stated before, I do not know if I have a soul or not; nor will I speculate. But if the case proves to be negative and I have none, then my next step in “redemption” is either recovering it or going a step lower: my Free Will, which I can say confidently I do have. If the time comes that I must recover my soul, I will do so. But at the moment, I will act upon the goal that seems within reach: identifying the one who killed Boaz, and thus returned my Will. The loss of my powers was no illusion; I still cannot recall the shadowy figure as a man or a woman, wizard or warrior; the link with my master severed at his death, so I cannot use the battle he went through, or any of his memories, as reference. So here is a memorandum, if you will, of my search. Perhaps it will come in handy. If not to others, it will to me.

In spite of all the . . . adventures in the recent nights, I had not put off my search for the one who had returned to me my Will. Let me condense weeks of investigation and research, ever since my memory started returning, into one sentence: I had returned to the city of my Freeing and had tracked down the room where the girl had once been held hostage. And I stalked the room cautiously, testing the air for scents, testing the ether for psychic signatures. But it had been abandoned for all those years, and on top of that, it looked like the building had been started on a demolitions project. But the project had not been finished. The signs of struggle were still evident; but they were also intermingled in the decomposition of time and negligence. The unfinished destruction had left the entire ground floor without walls save for the outer one, making it one single, large room. One corner of the building was buried in rubble and decay; the other three maintained the edifice’s weight with a forlorn weariness.

I cautiously dug through the wreckage of the lost corner in search of further clues. I found the remains of the shattered chair amidst the fallen remains of the wall. Beneath the dust and debris, I also found several spots of brown blood on the cement.

But the most interesting piece of evidence I found was a long piece of silver. It was thin and flat, bent at the end and resembling something of a check mark because of it. The scents it had once borne had long since vanished with the age and the crushing presence of time and dust, but I still found it oddly . . . fascinating. It looked like the piece of silver had been tightly folded; along the edge where the crook bent downward was still sharp, and I waited for a second for the flesh on my fingers to heal. The concave side possessed a slight indentation all along the edge, with just enough space for a few papers to slide in like a folder. Both ends of the piece of silver were slightly jagged. Sniffing about, I was unable to find any more clues. However, scanning the outer grounds, I did smell the outskirts of a gathering of unwashed bodies.

I followed the scent, memories coming even as I did.

I approached the gathering guardedly. There were about a dozen of them all told, congregating around three steel drums with slow fires flickering from their open tops. I stayed outside of the circle of light created by the flames, watching them and measuring attitudes and identities. Just because they were friendly to each other didn’t mean they would be friendly to a stranger. They were talking to each other in low voices, the babble like a small stream, interspersed by the occasional complain and a cussword.


They shivered slightly at my approach, exactly as I had warranted. Two of the ragged men parted to give me room by the fire. I held out my hand as though to arm it, although the fire did nothing to comfort nor to spread its warmth to my dead flesh.

“Good evening to you gentlemen,” I said amicably. There was a general murmur of replied greeting. “Is all going well?” Another murmur of variant answers.

We didn’t speak further for some minutes, simply warming hands and watching the dance of the orange glow. I could sense the other men at the separate fire-pits looking at me uneasily, but I pretended not to notice. I kept in mind Sifu’s teachings, and I brought the thoughts of patience undeath could potentially give me into the forefront of my mind.

“You’re new here. Traveling far?” one man asked, an older fellow with gray whiskers pressing in on the cinnamon of his beard. I pondered the question, its implications.

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “At the moment, from Chicago to Cypress Cove and beyond, before coming here. But from here, I cannot be sure.”

Another murmur of agreement from the others. “I’m looking for someone,” I added in what I hoped was an offhanded remark.

“Have ya tried Dirty Gina’s Nightlife Club?” one of the old men to my right spit into the fire. “I think you’d do well there.”

Curse old men and their lecherous ways.

“I’m not that kind of girl,” I turned my head to stare at the old man.

“Of course you’re not,” he muttered in a gravelly tone I couldn’t decipher, though he hunched his shoulders and stared back into the fire after he failed to penetrate my gaze, stretching out his hands so far to the fire it looked like he might burn them.

“Good place, though,” another said brightly. “Fine women. But you didn’t hear that from me!” Everyone but me laughed. After a minute, the others resumed their own conversations.

“Is this person a friend of yours? A boy or a girl?” the cinnamon-bearded man inquired, moving in a little closer. “Relative? Boyfriend? How old? What do they look like? We can’t help ya if you’re going to be so closemouthed about it all, girl.”

Where was this man when Willie and I had been in Saginaw? I decided to be daring.

“A vampire hunter.”

There was an immediate hush.

“Vampire hunter?” the friendly man repeated as though to try the name out. He stared hard at me. “Why are you looking for a vampire hunter?”

I spoke slowly, wording my answer carefully into the vague truth. “He . . . gave something to me. I would like to return the favor.”

Silence for literal minutes. Cinnamon continued to stare at me hard.

Thankfully, I had made it a habit to alter my aura whenever I dealt with humans.

Otherwise, his use of psionics would have detected my vampirism.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“What did he give you?” Cinnamon asked finally.

“My life,” I said, for it was the truth as I spoke it. “He saved me from a Master vampire who would have otherwise consigned me to a never-ending Hell as a secondary under his thumb.”

He nodded solemnly and then glanced about as though looking for hidden enemies. He looked back at me. When he spoke again, it was with some reluctance, as though the information he was giving out was required upon asking, but of a dangerous nature.

“Arthur Nordstorme,” he spoke more to the direction of the waving flames in the steel drum than to me, his weathered face creased with a smudged frown and his wrinkled hands stretched out to gather in the warmth of the fire. “Arthur Nordstorme is probably the man you’re looking for.”

“Do you know where I can find him?” I hardly dared hope. But the man shook his head, no. “He doesn’t live here, hasn’t been to visit since he staked the last vampire that roamed here.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked.

He calculated in his head. “It would be sometime the year before last. About February or so.” Had I still had breath, I would have caught it. “We don’t see him very often,” he continued, oblivious to the clue he gave me. “Last time he came here before that was about . . .” He paused. I took a risk.

“Four years before that?” My tone was quiet, and by the reaction, I knew I was right. I had struck an artery. He jerked his eyes to my face and stared intently, but my defenses were still in place. After some quite moments passed of his reading my false aura intently, he nodded and returned his gaze back to the fire.
“Aye. That’s right,” he reluctantly assented. “The vampire had kidnapped a little girl. Nordstorme saved her.”

The group and I peered into the flames in the same way a Firewalker might in order to divine some hidden knowledge, but for us, nothing revealed itself. I had a name to go by now, but that was still a long shot from finding him. I had other leads I knew, but now came the internal struggle of righting the wrongs I had committed or equipping the patience I would need to track my savior. I had a debt to pay, and I wanted to repay it. But there were more important matters to attend to.

“The little girl kidnapped by the vampire,” I started softly, careful to keep the perpetrator down to my master. There was no need to let them know I had inside information that could not be garnered by the . . . good guys. “The things she went through . . . must have been unspeakable.”

“Aye,” the ragged fellow agreed. “Nobody should have to go through something like that. Most people would be scarred for life.”

“Was she?” I had not been present when she had escaped, so I knew nothing of her condition.

He hunched his shoulders morosely. “Probably.”

“How has she coped?”

“Don’t know,” he spat through lips growing jittery with the cold. But a poorly-timed shudder set the spittle all along his chin. He angrily wiped it away with the heel of his hand and sniffed disdainfully. “Too many bad memories; she was kidnapped direct from her home and held in a condemned building she passed every morning going to that private school she used to go to. She couldn’t cope well with that. Her family don’t talk ‘bout it, and nobody asks. Think they’d like to forget the whole thing. Wouldn’t you?”

I looked inward. The question held more than one implication for me.

The others in the group were becoming uncomfortable with the discussion. They were slowly edging away from the steel drum and on to another. I kept them within my peripheral attention, marking every move they made. Humans may not be very strong, but they were not stupid. I had to watch my words and make sure I didn’t let something slip. Cinnamon and I remained silent for several minutes, but the others didn’t return. Instead, they continued to huddle around the other fires, crowded as it became. I didn’t want to press my luck. I had a name to go by. That would do just fine.

“Well, thank you,” I gathered my arms around me and withdrew from the fire. “You’ve given me much to think about.”

“Don’t mention it,” he clasped his hands together and rubbed his palms vigorously. I was just at the edge of the firelight when he called me back.

“Ma’am?” I turned to face him. “Hobbes was kidding when he suggested ya try Ginny’s. But you might want to go for it anyway. She has a good head for information and hears things most others don’t. But watch your step, ‘cuz it is an underground brothel. Ask for Muriel. And tell her Gordon sent you.” He tapped his chest. “That’s me.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Gordon.”

He waggled his head in return and turned back to the heat of the fire.

I headed out for the next leg of my investigation.

[Ron Caliburn]

No offence Celeste - as much as I can mean it - but I think you're doing something rather stupid here.

You're looking for someone who kills vampires, and by the sound of it, more powerful vampires than you.

I can say I have some insight into the mind of a vampire hunter, and if I were him, I'd probably stake and burn you as soon as we met.

I don't think you really want to go through with this.

Unless of course you're tired of undeath. In that case I'll put you out of your misery if you want.

[Holister]

Oh Ron, It wouldn't be a post from Celeste with her tryin' to open up to us, without you offerin' you 2 cents worth. Well listen here pal, KNOCK IT OFF! The day is going to come when she is gonna end up savin' your sorry ass, and then what. You still gonna kill her.
I had to listen to a man just like you Ron. He was a man a respected and looked up to, but he changed for the worst. Soon he was goin' off just like you are now. Except he went too far, it consumed him. Soon the man I knew was gone and was replaced with bastard of a human being.

That was my father Ron. I was the one who pulled the plug on him.
He never asked for forgiveness in the end, the hate and predjudice had consumed him entirely. The dad I knew died when I was 8, I pulled his plug two weeks ago.

Don't make me pull your plug too Ron. Please...

[Kolya]

Prey should be careful when near its predator.

That is good advice.

Ron was being helpful.

I hate to add to the factionalism going here, but it sounds like folks are taking it out on Ron quite unfairly.

[Greydawn]

Mr. Holister I think you miss read Mr. Caliburns post he was just trying to tell Miss Darken to becareful.

You are the one that is being stubburn and blind in this instance maybe having to pull the plug, as you put it, has narrowed your vision when it comes to Mr. Caliburn and what he is saying.

[AdamaGeist]

Yeah... Seriously, Ben, Calm the hell down. It wasn't a threat, it was a warning to Celeste. Yes, it's nice for her to open up like this, but Ron is right...

Trained hunters don't often ask the motives of the vampires sneaking up on them. The longer you're in this buisness, the more your reaction is to shoot first, and ask questions later.

That was Ron's warning to Celeste.

[Razor]

I can vouch for the hunters reaction. In my early days of training, I spent a lot of time training to eliminate vampires. For the longest time I had the instant reaction to kill first ask questions later. Now though, I've learned a little bit more, and I let their actions dictate mine more. Most of the time they're still evil as all fuck. But the rare exception is refreshing.

[Kolya]

And anyone that knows anything about Ron knows he never shoots before asking questions. I am sure that has saved a few innocent from someone who might be a little less concerned with the small print. In fact, I know it has...

[Shang Li]

Mr. Holister, I am surprisingly forced to side with Mr. Caliburn on this one. As a hunter he gave valuable advice - be carfull, you are doing something foolish. (although I second the advice Ms. Darken, I understand your need to resolve the past before moving on). More than once I have seen a man react in the way he has trained to do, and the situation become ...... shall I say "regrettable".

Koyla, I have never worked with Mr. Caliburn, however his words, if translated into action, indicate otherwise.

Razor, That is why I am seldom able to let them go in peace (which is why I treasure the exceptions so dearly)


Everyone, I have read some of my harsh words, and while I still stand by them, I do apologize for their harshness. I have not been at my most peacefull recently.

[Razor]

None of us have, Li-sama.

[Kolya]

Koyla, I have never worked with Mr. Caliburn, however his words, if translated into action, indicate otherwise.

I'm not sure exactly what you are talking about.

But, yea, working with Ron calmed me down noticably.

[AdamaGeist]

I've regained enough composure to speak again, so I'm going to say somthing here and now.

Celeste started this thread so we would stop the Ron argument and move onto a new subject. Obviously, that hasn't happened. and I won't bring up why.

However, I will say this... Celeste wants help finding the man that freed her. She's giving us the information she has. So, anyone heard of this guy?

[Holister]

Unless of course you're tired of undeath. In that case I'll put you out of your misery if you want.[/b]

Sorry folks, that comes off as not so friendly. Damn it Cee is one of us.

Somebody has to speak up aginst the gun jocks who want to cap our friends just because they are quite human. What the hell gives him the right. Ron is a BIGOT. His predudice is guised under righteous indignation. How long before that intolerance turns toward lynch mobs and profiling. Just because Cee is a vampire, does not mean she needs the likes of Ron, or anyone else for that matter, constantly threatening to kill her just because is what she is.

The same applies to all our not so quite human friends and associates here at Lazlo.

Case scenario...what is Ron hated magic users and cinstantly made "comments" to the such. Or what about psychics, afterall, can you really trust them. This is predjudice plain and simple. My point is that it consumed my pop, I don't want to see it do the same to another good man.

Human or not, we should support one another, and keep looking at certain members with suspicion just because they are different.

Ron may be a good man, but if you constantly defend his views, the bad ones, not the good ones, you are supporting and in turn fueling his prejudice. And that gives the message that just because Cee is a vampire, or Bearshaman is a lycan, makes it ok to harass, threaten, and belittle them.

These words of mine are not filled with anger or hate, and if Im comin' off as stubborn, then so be it. At least I have the decency to accept those around me for who they are, not what they are. I may even be a fool for trustin' folks the way I do, but until they prove unworthy of that trust, why should I waste my time persecutin' someone when I don't have to.

Today its vampires and werebeasts, tomorrow it'll be magic users and psychics. Where does it end. Here and now.

To end all aguement, what would Victor Lazlo say?

You decide.

[Shang Li]

I cannot presume to know what Mr. Lazlo would say.

I know my posts as of late have been a bit harsh, I am looking into that as I speak.

I may even be a fool for trustin' folks the way I do, but until they prove unworthy of that trust, why should I waste my time persecutin' someone when I don't have to.

That Mr. Holister is how I reached you and knew you were still in there when I placeed myself at your mercy, an act I will admit was coldly calculated to have the desired result regardless of my survival.

[Bert_the_Turtle]

Ok, everyone just settle the fuck down.

First, Celeste, I never heard of him but I don't operate in that area.

Second, everyone else, just let it drop. Everyone bite their tongue and just don't comment on this vein of argument. Nobody is going to convince anyone right now since its escalated to this point. When attacks become ad hominem (IE At the Body, IE At the person and not his or her stance/logic/etc.) nothing good can be accomplished. So everyone sit down and be silent til everyone cools off a little. Nerves and Tempers are worn thin right now. We need to let it all drop and focus on the tasks at hand.

[Shang Li]

Yes, Shidoshi.

I shall endeavor to be more tolerant of other views.

I have violated the tennants Shidoshi, please forgive.

[Greydawn]

Miss Darken, I will have some of my associates see if they can find anything on Arthur Nordstorme and have them get the info to you. You have my word that they will only locate and not contact him for that is for you to do. They are very discrete, so as not to make him nervous.

[Natasha]

You can contact Kolya. He knows people that knows people... such as Greydawn's contacts, they simply only will locate.

[Ron Caliburn]

Nordstrome . . . I have heard that name before, but I don't know where or why.

Until recently I've done my best to work solo, so I don't think I've ever met him in any professional sense.

As for what you all might think of my offer. If I'd been turned I'd rather one of you folks did that for me. Just extending (or rather re-extending because I've offered before) the same courtesy.

[Kolya]

You can contact Kolya. He knows people that knows people... such as Greydawn's contacts, they simply only will locate.

Yep.

Just PM me if you like to me ask around. If not, no skin off my back.

[Ron Caliburn]

In your case Koyla, it's more like hair.

[Kolya]

Truth be told, yes, you, sir, are correct.

[Razor]

"You are hairy... like animal!" ... >.> ... sorry

[Natasha]

Animal the Muppet?

[Bert_the_Turtle]

I always liked Fozzy Bear the best myself.

[Shadowstalker]

Funny I figured you for a fan of Crazy Harry I think that was the name of the guy always blowing thing up on the Muppet Show.

[Natasha]

Yea, although if I would vote, I would vote for the old guys in the theatre.

[Bert_the_Turtle]

The Fish Juggler is my second favorite and Bunsen and Beaker are tied for third. Crazy Harry (I think that's right) would be somewhere in the middle of the list. Not that I don't love explosions but the Muppet Show in its sheer awesomeness just has too much to love.

[Holister]

My vote is Scooter. I always liked the straight man, besides his uncle owned the theater..

[Shadowstalker]

Back to the subject Celeste I also can have some people look into finding any info on this Nordstrome and will let you know if I find anything. But I ask that if you seek to meet with him do not go alone and maybe arrange to have someone else meet with him first, so as to maybe feel him out and lay some ground work for a meet with you. Just a thought.