Nocturne No. 6: Rocky Mountain High
General Summary
May 24, 1995 - Wednesday
Winds buffetted the Folk Singer's twin propeller plane, dense clouds obscuring his view of the night sky. Cesca had offered to let him stay an extra night to avoid the bad weather, but he couldn't wait any longer to see his Thin-Bloods in Seattle. It'd been over a year since they'd last seen each other, and with the Camarilla backlash against Thin-Bloods he needed to ensure their safety. He made some adjustments on the dashboard, struggling to stay focused while his thoughts kept drifting back to his childe. A group of unwieldy Thin-Bloods were being blamed for the death of Los Angeles' Seneschal, and it was open season now on the young vampires. All of the Folk Singer's months of planning had fallen apart in a single night, his dreams of creating a new generation of Thin-Bloods to keep the Camarilla competitive in modern nights turning to dust. At least his LA Thin-Bloods were now safe under Cesca's protection in Las Vegas, but he worried about his Seattle childe left on their own for so long. His deal with the local Prince had always been contingent on his childe's capabilities with Thin-Blood Alchemy, and he wasn't sure if Daphne had managed to create a cure yet for the prince. He knew that Hector probably had some contingencies to escape any heat in Seattle, and rumor had it that Alex had vanished from the city as a new Eremite discple of Shivani's. Daphne and Jason were still ensconced at the University of Washington, but with half of the local Camarilla wanting to see them banished from the city he was unsure how long they'd be able to hold out on their own. The thoughts kept swirling around his head until an explosion rocked him senseless. Alarms started blaring as smoke spilled from one of his engines, the vampire struggling to get his damaged plane under control. He tried to slowly steer the plane for an emergency landing, but moments later the second engine burst into flames as the left wing broke loose. He tried to furiously pull the plane out of its death spiral, but without any engines it started falling like a rock. As the ground pulled closer and closer into his vision, the last thoughts on his mind were of his Thin-Bloods.
The Pale Horse watched the plane plummet from the sky, a fiery explosion quickly extinguished by the rain. She disassembled her rifle and slung the pack over her shoulder, hiking over to the crash site to inspect the wreckage. Sure enough, nothing remained of the rogue Toreador amid the charred wreckage of the plane. She snapped some pictures of the ash and burned clothes to send back to the Platinum Blonde, completing a bounty after less than five months was a personal record for the archon. It didn't matter that she'd waited weeks in the desert for the right time to shoot down a passing plane, when a Prince asked for a job done she was the one to do it no questions asked. She scanned the wreckage one last time, news would break in a couple days about the tragic death of acclaimed folk singer John Denver but nothing from the crash site would be able to breach the masquerade. Pleased with her work, the Pale Horse walked silently back to where she'd hidden her motorcycle. She still had enough time in the night to make it to Vegas, the Folk Singer was the only name listed on the bounty but she still had some questions to ask around town. The Pale Horse was never one to leave a job half-finished.
Winds buffetted the Folk Singer's twin propeller plane, dense clouds obscuring his view of the night sky. Cesca had offered to let him stay an extra night to avoid the bad weather, but he couldn't wait any longer to see his Thin-Bloods in Seattle. It'd been over a year since they'd last seen each other, and with the Camarilla backlash against Thin-Bloods he needed to ensure their safety. He made some adjustments on the dashboard, struggling to stay focused while his thoughts kept drifting back to his childe. A group of unwieldy Thin-Bloods were being blamed for the death of Los Angeles' Seneschal, and it was open season now on the young vampires. All of the Folk Singer's months of planning had fallen apart in a single night, his dreams of creating a new generation of Thin-Bloods to keep the Camarilla competitive in modern nights turning to dust. At least his LA Thin-Bloods were now safe under Cesca's protection in Las Vegas, but he worried about his Seattle childe left on their own for so long. His deal with the local Prince had always been contingent on his childe's capabilities with Thin-Blood Alchemy, and he wasn't sure if Daphne had managed to create a cure yet for the prince. He knew that Hector probably had some contingencies to escape any heat in Seattle, and rumor had it that Alex had vanished from the city as a new Eremite discple of Shivani's. Daphne and Jason were still ensconced at the University of Washington, but with half of the local Camarilla wanting to see them banished from the city he was unsure how long they'd be able to hold out on their own. The thoughts kept swirling around his head until an explosion rocked him senseless. Alarms started blaring as smoke spilled from one of his engines, the vampire struggling to get his damaged plane under control. He tried to slowly steer the plane for an emergency landing, but moments later the second engine burst into flames as the left wing broke loose. He tried to furiously pull the plane out of its death spiral, but without any engines it started falling like a rock. As the ground pulled closer and closer into his vision, the last thoughts on his mind were of his Thin-Bloods.
The Pale Horse watched the plane plummet from the sky, a fiery explosion quickly extinguished by the rain. She disassembled her rifle and slung the pack over her shoulder, hiking over to the crash site to inspect the wreckage. Sure enough, nothing remained of the rogue Toreador amid the charred wreckage of the plane. She snapped some pictures of the ash and burned clothes to send back to the Platinum Blonde, completing a bounty after less than five months was a personal record for the archon. It didn't matter that she'd waited weeks in the desert for the right time to shoot down a passing plane, when a Prince asked for a job done she was the one to do it no questions asked. She scanned the wreckage one last time, news would break in a couple days about the tragic death of acclaimed folk singer John Denver but nothing from the crash site would be able to breach the masquerade. Pleased with her work, the Pale Horse walked silently back to where she'd hidden her motorcycle. She still had enough time in the night to make it to Vegas, the Folk Singer was the only name listed on the bounty but she still had some questions to ask around town. The Pale Horse was never one to leave a job half-finished.
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