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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Catulle" data-source="post: 911323" data-attributes="member: 9942">Frederick Douglas Memorial Cemetery, Staten IslandWednesday 11th December, 2003As he replied to Nikolai, Gabriel's voice was bitter with... sarcasm? Irony? "If you can find a window into that thing's soul, you're welcome to make the attempt. Without the correct bridge, we can't work Sympathy, now - can we? Better to just drag it in to our superiors... prove our loyalty, yes?" The pale eyes he turned on Max glittered in the dirty velvet night, "Just keep a good, firm, grip, right Max? I'm sure that will work just well enough."D'Angelo, the Hunter-instinct, took control of Nikolai's senses for but a smattering of seconds. The child, the stones, the way the corpse splayed, the torn wound in the wrist, not the result of bludgeoning... teeth, the mark of a feeding, a botched job. Fatal.A sharp crack, plastic-on-plastic resonant in the thick air, drew their attention. Legba. His look was grim, to say the least. Though his eyes were as pitch, they could all sense the frustration of a Kindred. "David's out. He says take the car - sheriff and he had things under wraps, but the cops are coming; doesn't know how long we've got left to us... Let's take what we need and split?" The 'phone went into a pocket deep in the heavy coat, though his hand stayed within its folds... ready.Thick flakes of ice drifted down from the impending storm, though sparse, they hinted at something worse, something colder yet to come.The decision of a moment, the big man was by the tree in a burst of speed, akin to Max' legerity, lifting down the body and hefting it across one broad shoulder, eyes wide and muscles straining, he looked to the others about him "Are you coming? Or not?" He nodded across to Max as he spoke, the Brujah already a healthy distance away.(OOC - Nikolai Auspex diff9 - 9,4 = 1 success)As he turned to go, Nikolai caught it; the missing fragment in the puzzle. Entwined about the dead child's fingers were a few sparse strands of hair; not dark, like those of the Poet, the Heartbreaker, which he yet retained, but pale as flax... like the Kindred corpse across Legba's shoulders...More questions than answers, indeed.</blockquote>

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