Post by Seniade on Apr 4, 2016 0:19:19 GMT
The last few nights had been quiet enough for Adolphus, he reclined in the back of the rolls. His driver was as always well aware of how precarious his position in the land of the living was, kept himself very much to himself. He'd learned the error of his ways a few years ago, Adolphus had torn out the upstart whelps tongue with his bare hands. He'd forbidden the ghoul to regrow the appendage for weeks. A suitable punishment for his crime. Tonight the pair were headed to the city center, he'd decided to pay a visit to the late night bar and restaurant scene. His job in the city had been to fracture the command and control systems of the power base, but also to keep an eye out for suitable recruitment grounds for the Priscus and his hoarde of cainites. As the car pulled in at the top of new street, it rolled to a halt by the Art gallery. "This will do nicely. Now make yourself scarce" The driver merely nodded, he'd not been asked a question so refused to make a sound. As Adolphus stepped out onto the street the universe in all it's infinite wisdom decided that it was the perfect moment to start raining. "For fucks sake" with that Adolphus ran up the stairs and into the foyer of the Art Gallery.
After that Gangrel had invaded his home the other night, Ben had taken a call from his mother and the entire thing hadn't gone over very well. He had explained what had happened the past few nights that he had been in the city proper and Celeste had reamed him verbally, calling him to task for not reporting the odd encounters with the leeches in the first place. The young werewolf had tactfully neglected to mention there was a mortal girl involved in several of his interactions with the vampires, or else he feared his mother might have him bring the girl in as bait. Celeste was vicious and vindictive and had absolutely no place for someone who would not follow or take up the 'cause of fighting against the Wyrm.
After giving him specific instructions that he needed to report any and ALL vampire movements he noticed immediately home, Ben finally got a word in about Derin and Hagley Hall. Celeste had sighed heavily into the phone and told him she would handle it. At his protesting that he needed to know since he was the one being messed with, she shouted him down and told him to keep his snout out of bigger matters that he had no business sticking it in. His mother's phone call had given Ben's mind plenty to chew on, and he knew there had to be something he was missing, some kind of information about Birmingham maybe that Celeste wasn't telling, so when he heard there was an exhibit at an art gallery in town that had things about the history of Birmingham dating back almost a millennium, he cleaned up and immediately departed his flat to go see if there was something to it.
He ducked into the foyer of the building, shaking the rain from his dark hair as he picked up one of the programs to read it quickly and started off for the one that interested him, his whole mind focused on one purpose.
Adolphus was dressed fairly sensibly, a fitted slim line dark three piece suit, brogues and as always a rather over priced pair of leather gloves. He had had pointed out to him by the Prince himself that you could buy several heards of cattle for the price of his gloves. Adolphus had smiled and pointed out that his long fingers made it impossible to get anything that wasn't custom made, even begin to fit right. It was at that point that the nosferatu Primogen, Ansell had merely extending a single diget in his direction. The Goldleaf club had roared in laughter at the Primogens joke. For a souless old lizard, the Nosferatu had a mind like a razor. He'd taken the oppurtunity to flip Adolphus the bird and make himself look like he was joining in with the evenings festivities. Adolphus looked forwards to the night when Mister Kaufmann was nothing more than dust slowly crumbling between his fingers, the last of Ansells vitae dripping from his fangs. His beast stirred in his mind as the fantasy briefly flashed through his imagination. Adolphus crushed it. He was many things, a liar, a fiend and a cruel tyrant. He was however not an animal. Clasping oine hand in the other in the small of his back he preceded to climb the stairs up to the late night exhibitions, the prince had pulled some strings, the city sponsored art and culture exhibits were to remain open every night until 9:30. Any later and they'd become targets for drunken 20 somethings to use as a make shift urinal or worse. He'd maybe be up the first few of the marble stair case when Ben walked in and did his sexy librarian hair shake thing. Adolphus raised one eyebrow momentarily, before resuming his climb. He'd heard good things about the 1800's exhibition. So off up he went.
Ben's eyes took in the ridiculously fancy marble staircase as he looked around, lifting his shirttail up to rub on his wet hair before he jogged lightly up the stairs, his attention fixed on the signs that pointed in the direction of Birmingham in the Middle Ages and forward. He frowned a little at the man who gave him a raised eyebrow earlier but shrugged it off, giving a slight yawn as he started slipping through the late goers of the museum and stubbornly, yet politely, in true British fashion, made his way to the front to read the plaques with information about the exhibit and artifacts behind the glass cases.
Solome was rarely ever let out of her play ground as of late. Still learning the fundamentals of her makers skills. As fate would have it, he was away on business and as the story goes, when the cats away, the mice will play. Solome was no different and when word had come that an exhibit was in town, well Solome felt slighted. After all she considered herself to one hell of an artist and with her mind running blank on some ideas, she felt that perhaps a new source of contraptions and forms were in order.
She was an expert at blending in, dressed in a slinky black number that was both classy and revealing, her hair done in the classic style of an era long gone . Her hat sat just at an angle while the netting fell over the upper portion of her face adding to the effect of a woman of grace and poise. She didn't particularly like the kine, in fact found them to be rather irritating and mundane to say the least, but she did adore the attention that most would give her. She gave a polite smile to the innocence she passed by, and none were the wiser of what danger truly lurked among them.
It'd probably be fifteen or twenty minutes before ben and the older man in the suit would cross paths again, to get to the section that Adolphus was even vaguely interested in he'd have to pass through the section you were now pawing through. The museum had been laid out chronologically although it'd started with various faiths of the city. Adolphus had turned his nose up at the lot of it. God was the real monster, although without God's wrathful intervention he'd have been dead long ago and probably of the pox, or some other god awful infection picked up in a brothel somewhere in hannover. You two would be the only ones in the room, after all it was getting late. He had to admit he appreciated the princes efforts, after all a walk down memory lane was sometimes refreshing. To remind ones self that history wasn't all glory and invention it was 9 parts shit death and disease 1 part wonder and advancement. "Evening" He'd nod and flash a small smile as he came up to the display next to you. A glass case filled with a large model village, labeled with small spot lights that activated when you touched the pannel with the appropriate information on.
For almost twenty minutes, Benjamin had been given pure, complete silence and that blessing was what allowed him to absorb the information better than if people had been interested in the same as he. He too skimmed over the religious stuff, knowing that the pious fools had no inkling of the struggle in the Umbra... the Weaver and the Wyrm destroyed the world and the religous blamed it all on their devil in Hell. He snorted a little, almost wolf-like in manner as he moved on, the model village before him turning on when he touched the panel. He had a sense of someone nearby and looked up when a male voice greeted him with an 'Evening.' Polite, and even smiling, a man in a respectable looking suit was next to him, studying the display about Birmingham, Beormingas to Ben. "Evening yourself. Curious about the city's origins, friend?" He asked good-naturedly, sliding his hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes on the village as he read the plaque with interest.
The museum was beginning to empty, though a few stragglers were still milling about. Perhaps having some sort of connection with the pieces on display. Either through emotion or child hood stories told by their grandparents so long ago. Morals and consideration usually in the foremost thoughts of their minds. Humans were always so predictable it seemed and it was something that Solome had often times relyed on.
She had glanced about as she moved with a casual sway of hips on the lower level, taking in the attrocities of modern day art. She didn't understand it really, she preferred the grace of antiquities and such. Tonight however she had picked up a scent, something that reminded her intensely of wet dog and she didn't wish to follow the same path. Instead she came to rest before some abstract piece of art that resembled a disected bovine and would stand there a moment. She was well aware of the space about her and who was walking towards or away from her. When a voice came from behind her she gave a bit of a smile before turning to regard the young curious fellow. He had inquired on her opinions of the artwork, however how did one describe the lack of depth it showed ? Lifting her chin slightly she looked back to the painting once more. " I would dare to say that the artist had no vision. He simply slapped the brush against a canvas and hoped it resembled something of intelligence and form. " her voice soft, smoothe before she glanced back at him. The gentleman had stood there quietly listening and then gave a bit of a shake of his head before stating. " well it does have color. " something of which Solome could appreciate.
" I agree, crimson along a pale piece of canvas in any form would be beautiful. " she stated while reaching out and grazing a soft touch of a gloved hand along his arm. " perhaps you'd like to stroll through the museum together ? I would like to hear your interpretations. " she offered.
"Well no not originally, more 'Dived in to avoid the rain' than lets go educate myself" The last part was said with the hint of a smile. "yourself? He looked round the room briefly half expecting the young man not to answer. Adolphus may be a a Lasombra, he may even be a sabbat beast with twisted history of lies deceit and with only the vaguest care for humanity. However he was a consummate actor. He'd been effectively on stage his entire undead existence. Those around him thought him a loyal subject of the camarilla. He'd been witnessed fighting in the very front lines against the bloodiest sabbat incursions across Europe. He'd walked Madrid at night and lived to tell the tale, yet not one of them suspected a thing. To Ben he'd be another face in the crowd, maybe a business man trying to find something to do in an unfamiliar city, maybe a local waiting for someone?
Ben actually grinned at someone sharing his opinion of the weather tonight and rubbed the back of his neck at the questioning of a seemingly normal person in a normal place. He had not had that lately and the relief was almost palpable in his expression. "Curiosity, meself. There's some things my mum has mentioned that I thought were interesting so I thought I'd check out the exhibit... and then the sky opened up as it's prone to doing quite often." The Werewolf replied, turning to look at the man and offering his hand to shake, his voice pleasant with what he thought was just a normal human being. "Benjamin Lucas... my family's lived in this area for a long time honestly so it's a bit 'o my own history I'm looking into as well I guess." He admitted. "What were you doing waiting about outside without an umbrella in spring? We're getting doused often enough no one should leave without one... well, I did meself but, ah, I never listen to my mother."
He laughed out loud at the "Never listen to my mother" line. He'd listened to his, he'd ended up in the army, and well if he thought about it long enough he'd probably have to agree it was certainly the most life altering decision of his then short life. It'd been what had led him down the path to his eventual embrace, and recruitment by the sword of caine. "I got dropped off by a coleague, I didn't even think about the weather. Ah well I'll dry out although I'll smell like wet terrier for a while i suspect." Adolphus hadn't really paid much attention to the cities history outside of the political scene, even then his focus had been recent. He was aware of certain relationships that spanned the centuries, he was also in the know of a few newer shadier relationships in the higher circles of society. He was however completely in the dark about the place pre the mid 1500's. You sound local enough, so how far back does your family go if you don't mind me asking? I'm not local myself. Military family. He gave Ben the look that suggested you'd know what he meant. something he'd picked up from a subordinate he'd had a few years back, the boy had made the "you know what I mean look" most people just nodded vaguely or some who'd had any contact with soldiers assumed you meant the way troops were moved every few years to a new posting.
The man had agreed to acompany Solome on a tour of the museum, particularly the section where the statues were. He would have been just fine had he at least portrayed an interest in the architecture of them instead of stating how boring they seemed. Solome turned to face him while a small touch had graced his cheek. Her fingertips light as air as she gave a soft smile ,though her eyes seemed to hold a darkness in their depths that the man was intent on finding. She brushed her thumb pad along his lips spending a blood point and fusing them together to seem as only his mouth had been a memory. He was rendered silent while the pain and agony he would feel would be undoubtedly excrutiating.
Solome very much enjoyed her fun and though his gaze didn't truly seem to bother her, she felt that it would cause too much of a problem should others notice that infact he was alive . In the same manner she had with his mouth, her fingertips moved along his eyes, dragging the flesh over them to remove them altogether, leaving the man both blind and mute. He could hear though, everything that would pass by him, the bits of conversation others would emit, both humans and perhaps vampires sabbat and camarilla alike.
From his back she would pull his ribs, muscle and cartilage shifting and cracking as she drew them out and up forming the wings of a fallen angel. She was meticulous along his skin, forming what would look as fleshy feathers to harden and come statuesque like. The effect would be sent through his entire body, causing him to remain still, unable to move, see or speak. His hands brought down and infront of himself in a praying position and fused together. THe man was ultimately locked within his own body and left to slowly starve to death, listening to life live on around him . If SOlome had any desire to learn what was spoken on she would return and feed the man, retrieving the information from him and returning him back to his human statue state.
He offered his own chuckle at the other man's laugh at Ben's words regarding listening to his mother, but he noticed the other did not offer his name nor take his hand to shake either. Frowning a little, the werewolf slid his hand back into his pocket, hiding the rebuke's sting with a slight nod when the man mentioned he was from a military family. Well, everyone knew what that meant. No matter where you were from, if you were military, it was understood you moved every few years to a new post. It was a universal truth for everyone and the expression on the other man's face made sense to Ben, nodding in agreement. "I don't think you smell like a wet terrier to be fair and I tend to have a fairly sensitive sense of smell." Ben joked, turning his head back to the display. "A long time, dating back before the Middle Ages to be fair." He offered, shrugging a little. Ben honestly didn't know how far back his family's line went guarding the city from leeches and the work of the Wyrm... maybe beyond that. Maybe since the first blood sucker came into the area... he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that his pack in particular had fallen from grace when his mother was much younger, and her drive to return them to glory was what made her so hate the manipulations and creatures of the Wyrm.
Adolphus noticed the young man withdraw the offered hand, he didn't react to it for a moment but then held up a gloved hand. "Thank you, You might have an excellent sense of smell, I however have a rather nasty case of eczema hence these. I'm sorry for not shaking you're hand. I'm so used to people around me knowing. My apologies. I'm Adolphus. He waited for it. He knew it'd be coming the 'Oh you're not from round here then huh' or 'Oh where in poland are you from?'. He took an unneeded breath as he paused and caught a familiar smell being pumped through the air conditioning units. He'd normally dismiss it but he knew that there were packs active in the city, and to more than one shovel head this place would make an interesting target. There was a copper like twang in the air, and his hackles rose in response to it. Blood. Bugger.
Watching the other carefully, Benjamin raised his eyebrows in understanding of the man's skin condition with the gloved hand and his explanation. "Ah, well then that makes sense, no harm no foul, then Adolphus." He tilted his head to the side in a manner reminiscent of a pup watching someone with interest at the man's unusual name. "Very old school name, isn't it?" He offered politely before noting the tension in the other man's body as the air vents kicked on the room they were both occupying. Odd, no reason to tense up about a questi- The scent hit Ben's nostrils after Adolphus's, making the wolf's pupils dilate even in the well-lit room to ensure he could see everything he needed to. That is not good... he mused, wondering how to find out where the smell was coming from when the ventilation shafts were all over the large building and probably too small for his bulky frame to go crawling through.
After that Gangrel had invaded his home the other night, Ben had taken a call from his mother and the entire thing hadn't gone over very well. He had explained what had happened the past few nights that he had been in the city proper and Celeste had reamed him verbally, calling him to task for not reporting the odd encounters with the leeches in the first place. The young werewolf had tactfully neglected to mention there was a mortal girl involved in several of his interactions with the vampires, or else he feared his mother might have him bring the girl in as bait. Celeste was vicious and vindictive and had absolutely no place for someone who would not follow or take up the 'cause of fighting against the Wyrm.
After giving him specific instructions that he needed to report any and ALL vampire movements he noticed immediately home, Ben finally got a word in about Derin and Hagley Hall. Celeste had sighed heavily into the phone and told him she would handle it. At his protesting that he needed to know since he was the one being messed with, she shouted him down and told him to keep his snout out of bigger matters that he had no business sticking it in. His mother's phone call had given Ben's mind plenty to chew on, and he knew there had to be something he was missing, some kind of information about Birmingham maybe that Celeste wasn't telling, so when he heard there was an exhibit at an art gallery in town that had things about the history of Birmingham dating back almost a millennium, he cleaned up and immediately departed his flat to go see if there was something to it.
He ducked into the foyer of the building, shaking the rain from his dark hair as he picked up one of the programs to read it quickly and started off for the one that interested him, his whole mind focused on one purpose.
Adolphus was dressed fairly sensibly, a fitted slim line dark three piece suit, brogues and as always a rather over priced pair of leather gloves. He had had pointed out to him by the Prince himself that you could buy several heards of cattle for the price of his gloves. Adolphus had smiled and pointed out that his long fingers made it impossible to get anything that wasn't custom made, even begin to fit right. It was at that point that the nosferatu Primogen, Ansell had merely extending a single diget in his direction. The Goldleaf club had roared in laughter at the Primogens joke. For a souless old lizard, the Nosferatu had a mind like a razor. He'd taken the oppurtunity to flip Adolphus the bird and make himself look like he was joining in with the evenings festivities. Adolphus looked forwards to the night when Mister Kaufmann was nothing more than dust slowly crumbling between his fingers, the last of Ansells vitae dripping from his fangs. His beast stirred in his mind as the fantasy briefly flashed through his imagination. Adolphus crushed it. He was many things, a liar, a fiend and a cruel tyrant. He was however not an animal. Clasping oine hand in the other in the small of his back he preceded to climb the stairs up to the late night exhibitions, the prince had pulled some strings, the city sponsored art and culture exhibits were to remain open every night until 9:30. Any later and they'd become targets for drunken 20 somethings to use as a make shift urinal or worse. He'd maybe be up the first few of the marble stair case when Ben walked in and did his sexy librarian hair shake thing. Adolphus raised one eyebrow momentarily, before resuming his climb. He'd heard good things about the 1800's exhibition. So off up he went.
Ben's eyes took in the ridiculously fancy marble staircase as he looked around, lifting his shirttail up to rub on his wet hair before he jogged lightly up the stairs, his attention fixed on the signs that pointed in the direction of Birmingham in the Middle Ages and forward. He frowned a little at the man who gave him a raised eyebrow earlier but shrugged it off, giving a slight yawn as he started slipping through the late goers of the museum and stubbornly, yet politely, in true British fashion, made his way to the front to read the plaques with information about the exhibit and artifacts behind the glass cases.
Solome was rarely ever let out of her play ground as of late. Still learning the fundamentals of her makers skills. As fate would have it, he was away on business and as the story goes, when the cats away, the mice will play. Solome was no different and when word had come that an exhibit was in town, well Solome felt slighted. After all she considered herself to one hell of an artist and with her mind running blank on some ideas, she felt that perhaps a new source of contraptions and forms were in order.
She was an expert at blending in, dressed in a slinky black number that was both classy and revealing, her hair done in the classic style of an era long gone . Her hat sat just at an angle while the netting fell over the upper portion of her face adding to the effect of a woman of grace and poise. She didn't particularly like the kine, in fact found them to be rather irritating and mundane to say the least, but she did adore the attention that most would give her. She gave a polite smile to the innocence she passed by, and none were the wiser of what danger truly lurked among them.
It'd probably be fifteen or twenty minutes before ben and the older man in the suit would cross paths again, to get to the section that Adolphus was even vaguely interested in he'd have to pass through the section you were now pawing through. The museum had been laid out chronologically although it'd started with various faiths of the city. Adolphus had turned his nose up at the lot of it. God was the real monster, although without God's wrathful intervention he'd have been dead long ago and probably of the pox, or some other god awful infection picked up in a brothel somewhere in hannover. You two would be the only ones in the room, after all it was getting late. He had to admit he appreciated the princes efforts, after all a walk down memory lane was sometimes refreshing. To remind ones self that history wasn't all glory and invention it was 9 parts shit death and disease 1 part wonder and advancement. "Evening" He'd nod and flash a small smile as he came up to the display next to you. A glass case filled with a large model village, labeled with small spot lights that activated when you touched the pannel with the appropriate information on.
For almost twenty minutes, Benjamin had been given pure, complete silence and that blessing was what allowed him to absorb the information better than if people had been interested in the same as he. He too skimmed over the religious stuff, knowing that the pious fools had no inkling of the struggle in the Umbra... the Weaver and the Wyrm destroyed the world and the religous blamed it all on their devil in Hell. He snorted a little, almost wolf-like in manner as he moved on, the model village before him turning on when he touched the panel. He had a sense of someone nearby and looked up when a male voice greeted him with an 'Evening.' Polite, and even smiling, a man in a respectable looking suit was next to him, studying the display about Birmingham, Beormingas to Ben. "Evening yourself. Curious about the city's origins, friend?" He asked good-naturedly, sliding his hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes on the village as he read the plaque with interest.
The museum was beginning to empty, though a few stragglers were still milling about. Perhaps having some sort of connection with the pieces on display. Either through emotion or child hood stories told by their grandparents so long ago. Morals and consideration usually in the foremost thoughts of their minds. Humans were always so predictable it seemed and it was something that Solome had often times relyed on.
She had glanced about as she moved with a casual sway of hips on the lower level, taking in the attrocities of modern day art. She didn't understand it really, she preferred the grace of antiquities and such. Tonight however she had picked up a scent, something that reminded her intensely of wet dog and she didn't wish to follow the same path. Instead she came to rest before some abstract piece of art that resembled a disected bovine and would stand there a moment. She was well aware of the space about her and who was walking towards or away from her. When a voice came from behind her she gave a bit of a smile before turning to regard the young curious fellow. He had inquired on her opinions of the artwork, however how did one describe the lack of depth it showed ? Lifting her chin slightly she looked back to the painting once more. " I would dare to say that the artist had no vision. He simply slapped the brush against a canvas and hoped it resembled something of intelligence and form. " her voice soft, smoothe before she glanced back at him. The gentleman had stood there quietly listening and then gave a bit of a shake of his head before stating. " well it does have color. " something of which Solome could appreciate.
" I agree, crimson along a pale piece of canvas in any form would be beautiful. " she stated while reaching out and grazing a soft touch of a gloved hand along his arm. " perhaps you'd like to stroll through the museum together ? I would like to hear your interpretations. " she offered.
"Well no not originally, more 'Dived in to avoid the rain' than lets go educate myself" The last part was said with the hint of a smile. "yourself? He looked round the room briefly half expecting the young man not to answer. Adolphus may be a a Lasombra, he may even be a sabbat beast with twisted history of lies deceit and with only the vaguest care for humanity. However he was a consummate actor. He'd been effectively on stage his entire undead existence. Those around him thought him a loyal subject of the camarilla. He'd been witnessed fighting in the very front lines against the bloodiest sabbat incursions across Europe. He'd walked Madrid at night and lived to tell the tale, yet not one of them suspected a thing. To Ben he'd be another face in the crowd, maybe a business man trying to find something to do in an unfamiliar city, maybe a local waiting for someone?
Ben actually grinned at someone sharing his opinion of the weather tonight and rubbed the back of his neck at the questioning of a seemingly normal person in a normal place. He had not had that lately and the relief was almost palpable in his expression. "Curiosity, meself. There's some things my mum has mentioned that I thought were interesting so I thought I'd check out the exhibit... and then the sky opened up as it's prone to doing quite often." The Werewolf replied, turning to look at the man and offering his hand to shake, his voice pleasant with what he thought was just a normal human being. "Benjamin Lucas... my family's lived in this area for a long time honestly so it's a bit 'o my own history I'm looking into as well I guess." He admitted. "What were you doing waiting about outside without an umbrella in spring? We're getting doused often enough no one should leave without one... well, I did meself but, ah, I never listen to my mother."
He laughed out loud at the "Never listen to my mother" line. He'd listened to his, he'd ended up in the army, and well if he thought about it long enough he'd probably have to agree it was certainly the most life altering decision of his then short life. It'd been what had led him down the path to his eventual embrace, and recruitment by the sword of caine. "I got dropped off by a coleague, I didn't even think about the weather. Ah well I'll dry out although I'll smell like wet terrier for a while i suspect." Adolphus hadn't really paid much attention to the cities history outside of the political scene, even then his focus had been recent. He was aware of certain relationships that spanned the centuries, he was also in the know of a few newer shadier relationships in the higher circles of society. He was however completely in the dark about the place pre the mid 1500's. You sound local enough, so how far back does your family go if you don't mind me asking? I'm not local myself. Military family. He gave Ben the look that suggested you'd know what he meant. something he'd picked up from a subordinate he'd had a few years back, the boy had made the "you know what I mean look" most people just nodded vaguely or some who'd had any contact with soldiers assumed you meant the way troops were moved every few years to a new posting.
The man had agreed to acompany Solome on a tour of the museum, particularly the section where the statues were. He would have been just fine had he at least portrayed an interest in the architecture of them instead of stating how boring they seemed. Solome turned to face him while a small touch had graced his cheek. Her fingertips light as air as she gave a soft smile ,though her eyes seemed to hold a darkness in their depths that the man was intent on finding. She brushed her thumb pad along his lips spending a blood point and fusing them together to seem as only his mouth had been a memory. He was rendered silent while the pain and agony he would feel would be undoubtedly excrutiating.
Solome very much enjoyed her fun and though his gaze didn't truly seem to bother her, she felt that it would cause too much of a problem should others notice that infact he was alive . In the same manner she had with his mouth, her fingertips moved along his eyes, dragging the flesh over them to remove them altogether, leaving the man both blind and mute. He could hear though, everything that would pass by him, the bits of conversation others would emit, both humans and perhaps vampires sabbat and camarilla alike.
From his back she would pull his ribs, muscle and cartilage shifting and cracking as she drew them out and up forming the wings of a fallen angel. She was meticulous along his skin, forming what would look as fleshy feathers to harden and come statuesque like. The effect would be sent through his entire body, causing him to remain still, unable to move, see or speak. His hands brought down and infront of himself in a praying position and fused together. THe man was ultimately locked within his own body and left to slowly starve to death, listening to life live on around him . If SOlome had any desire to learn what was spoken on she would return and feed the man, retrieving the information from him and returning him back to his human statue state.
He offered his own chuckle at the other man's laugh at Ben's words regarding listening to his mother, but he noticed the other did not offer his name nor take his hand to shake either. Frowning a little, the werewolf slid his hand back into his pocket, hiding the rebuke's sting with a slight nod when the man mentioned he was from a military family. Well, everyone knew what that meant. No matter where you were from, if you were military, it was understood you moved every few years to a new post. It was a universal truth for everyone and the expression on the other man's face made sense to Ben, nodding in agreement. "I don't think you smell like a wet terrier to be fair and I tend to have a fairly sensitive sense of smell." Ben joked, turning his head back to the display. "A long time, dating back before the Middle Ages to be fair." He offered, shrugging a little. Ben honestly didn't know how far back his family's line went guarding the city from leeches and the work of the Wyrm... maybe beyond that. Maybe since the first blood sucker came into the area... he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that his pack in particular had fallen from grace when his mother was much younger, and her drive to return them to glory was what made her so hate the manipulations and creatures of the Wyrm.
Adolphus noticed the young man withdraw the offered hand, he didn't react to it for a moment but then held up a gloved hand. "Thank you, You might have an excellent sense of smell, I however have a rather nasty case of eczema hence these. I'm sorry for not shaking you're hand. I'm so used to people around me knowing. My apologies. I'm Adolphus. He waited for it. He knew it'd be coming the 'Oh you're not from round here then huh' or 'Oh where in poland are you from?'. He took an unneeded breath as he paused and caught a familiar smell being pumped through the air conditioning units. He'd normally dismiss it but he knew that there were packs active in the city, and to more than one shovel head this place would make an interesting target. There was a copper like twang in the air, and his hackles rose in response to it. Blood. Bugger.
Watching the other carefully, Benjamin raised his eyebrows in understanding of the man's skin condition with the gloved hand and his explanation. "Ah, well then that makes sense, no harm no foul, then Adolphus." He tilted his head to the side in a manner reminiscent of a pup watching someone with interest at the man's unusual name. "Very old school name, isn't it?" He offered politely before noting the tension in the other man's body as the air vents kicked on the room they were both occupying. Odd, no reason to tense up about a questi- The scent hit Ben's nostrils after Adolphus's, making the wolf's pupils dilate even in the well-lit room to ensure he could see everything he needed to. That is not good... he mused, wondering how to find out where the smell was coming from when the ventilation shafts were all over the large building and probably too small for his bulky frame to go crawling through.
