Finally some Generation Gap
Dec. 16th, 2003 08:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessWell, how long did you think the massacre of several vampires was going to go unnoticed?
And how likely is the local vamp boss going to put up with the kind of challenge it represents?
Hmmm, this could get messy too.
And this one's continued from waaaaaaaaay back here Generation Gap #4
Older parts of this and all other fic can be found here in memories
The meeting broke up quickly when the door above opened again. Ethan flinched and rolled off the table trying to escape the weak sunlight; sunset must be close. The door slammed closed almost as quickly as it had opened though, only open long enough to admit two figures.
The first was female. She was tall and lean. Beautiful in a sharp, almost pointy way. While Andrea was all lush curves and full breasts, Lex was spare and athletic, like an Olympic runner. Her hair was short, almost shaved, not for fashion, it was simply easier to manage that way. She wore a tight leather body suit for much the same reason, not to show off her slim figure, just because it didn't catch on things and was hardwearing. Lex didn't care about her looks, she didn't care about much really. Her only real passion was her bikes, well, her bikes and going fast in general. She was also real territorial when it came to what was hers, or what was their gang’s, probably came from the fact she had been a gang member when she was first brought over.
The second figure was the one that drew every eye though. Albert was old, not just old as a vampire (though he was, over two hundred the rumours said) but old when he was alive. Well, not ancient, he looked about fifty, but most vampires were brought over while they were still young, so they could enjoy eternal youth. Eternity of arthritis and senility was no-one’s idea of a good time.
He was old, but he was hard as well. Tough as old leather. No-one knew what he had been in life, but in death he was a politician, a general, a soldier and a savant. He had brains, he had muscle and he had a shit load of experience and double that in respect. He was the de-facto ruler of the vampires in the city, partly because no-one was daft enough to challenge him, partly because he was so good at playing the various gangs off against each other but mainly because he had gathered the various warring vampire gangs and turned them into a force that had made all the other supernaturals either bow down or bow out. It didn’t hurt that he’d made a point of gathering an elite team of vamps to form the core of his gang who could make sure his will better be bloody done.
Ethan often thought that might be one of the reasons the others seemed to hate him so much. They would probably ignore him if he was a normal member of Alfred’s gang, or any other gang. It was the fact that Alfred had put him in with the elite that pissed them off so much. They were supposed to be the best, and they got the runt of the litter foisted on them? Ethan could see why they were pissed. Of course it didn’t make them any less bastards.
Of course, he also had the voice. It wasn't loud, it was never loud. But you heard it, across a crowded club with music making the walls shake, you heard it, in the middle of a war zone, you heard it. No matter where you were, if Alfred wanted to be heard, then his voice of quite command would be heard. It was an amazing voice, not beautiful, and certainly useless at singing (sadly that didn't discourage Alfred from trying). But it was the voice of prophecy, he spoke and it was almost impossible to imagine not doing what he said, impossible to believe that he was lying or mistaken or exaggerating. His worst enemies found themselves jumping to obey that voice without even thinking about it. Let him the eye contact with you as well and he’ll have you dancing the can-can up and down main street while he used you for target practice. Literally. The only person who’d ever been able to break out of Alfred’s gaze had been, weirdly enough, Ethan, and even then it had been bloody difficult. It had also fascinated Michael no end. A bonus Ethan could really have done without.
“Get ready to move people.” His voice froze everyone, even Michael lost the vague look in his eyes. “Something’s happening. Something real serious. Something took down Serena’s pack. Over half of them dead, most the rest wounded and all of them scared shitless. Including Serena.”
Bazza frowned, you could almost hear his thoughts clashing slowly together. “Together? Yer ‘aving a laff, Fred. Serena’s pack’s ‘ard, dead ‘ard. Best nutjobs the Night Talons ‘av.”
Andrea, who was a lot better at thinking than Bazza (of course the same can be said of most fungi), actually looked worried. “Without Serena, the Night Talons loose a lot of their threat. They are dangerous, but not very organised, and there’s what? Five, six vamps all looking to unseat Jacob? Any of them stand a chance?”
Michael cleaned his glasses, removing the last stains of blood absently. “I should think that all contenders have a chance... but none of them a clear lead. That will not stop them trying. “ He srugged, and sighed. “So it will be pointless civil war. We can effectively consider the Night Talon’s extinct.”
Bazaa snorted. “No great loss.”
Ethan wasn’t so sure. The politics of the city were pretty bloody unstable. Removing a major player can’t be a good thing. Alfred seemed to agree.
“No, Barry. Without them both Red Knives and Burning Wrath will be unchecked, they may even ally. Besides, the Night Talons territory between the Searing Wind and Blood Rain gangs was the only thing stopping permanent war between them.” For a brief second he looked old and tired. Ethan almost felt sorry for the old man. Almost. “We have to call a council. We have to talk this out and make it clear we don’t approve of all out war.”
The Twins grinned, each drawing a menacing array of blades. “Let’s play...”
Alfred nodded, his tiredness falling away like water., There was only Alfred now, solid as stone, enduring as the earth. He was the king of this city, and if anyone didn’t believe it they were going to be converted. Forcefully.
Ethan actually smiled. This might actually be fun...
And how likely is the local vamp boss going to put up with the kind of challenge it represents?
Hmmm, this could get messy too.
And this one's continued from waaaaaaaaay back here Generation Gap #4
Older parts of this and all other fic can be found here in memories
The meeting broke up quickly when the door above opened again. Ethan flinched and rolled off the table trying to escape the weak sunlight; sunset must be close. The door slammed closed almost as quickly as it had opened though, only open long enough to admit two figures.
The first was female. She was tall and lean. Beautiful in a sharp, almost pointy way. While Andrea was all lush curves and full breasts, Lex was spare and athletic, like an Olympic runner. Her hair was short, almost shaved, not for fashion, it was simply easier to manage that way. She wore a tight leather body suit for much the same reason, not to show off her slim figure, just because it didn't catch on things and was hardwearing. Lex didn't care about her looks, she didn't care about much really. Her only real passion was her bikes, well, her bikes and going fast in general. She was also real territorial when it came to what was hers, or what was their gang’s, probably came from the fact she had been a gang member when she was first brought over.
The second figure was the one that drew every eye though. Albert was old, not just old as a vampire (though he was, over two hundred the rumours said) but old when he was alive. Well, not ancient, he looked about fifty, but most vampires were brought over while they were still young, so they could enjoy eternal youth. Eternity of arthritis and senility was no-one’s idea of a good time.
He was old, but he was hard as well. Tough as old leather. No-one knew what he had been in life, but in death he was a politician, a general, a soldier and a savant. He had brains, he had muscle and he had a shit load of experience and double that in respect. He was the de-facto ruler of the vampires in the city, partly because no-one was daft enough to challenge him, partly because he was so good at playing the various gangs off against each other but mainly because he had gathered the various warring vampire gangs and turned them into a force that had made all the other supernaturals either bow down or bow out. It didn’t hurt that he’d made a point of gathering an elite team of vamps to form the core of his gang who could make sure his will better be bloody done.
Ethan often thought that might be one of the reasons the others seemed to hate him so much. They would probably ignore him if he was a normal member of Alfred’s gang, or any other gang. It was the fact that Alfred had put him in with the elite that pissed them off so much. They were supposed to be the best, and they got the runt of the litter foisted on them? Ethan could see why they were pissed. Of course it didn’t make them any less bastards.
Of course, he also had the voice. It wasn't loud, it was never loud. But you heard it, across a crowded club with music making the walls shake, you heard it, in the middle of a war zone, you heard it. No matter where you were, if Alfred wanted to be heard, then his voice of quite command would be heard. It was an amazing voice, not beautiful, and certainly useless at singing (sadly that didn't discourage Alfred from trying). But it was the voice of prophecy, he spoke and it was almost impossible to imagine not doing what he said, impossible to believe that he was lying or mistaken or exaggerating. His worst enemies found themselves jumping to obey that voice without even thinking about it. Let him the eye contact with you as well and he’ll have you dancing the can-can up and down main street while he used you for target practice. Literally. The only person who’d ever been able to break out of Alfred’s gaze had been, weirdly enough, Ethan, and even then it had been bloody difficult. It had also fascinated Michael no end. A bonus Ethan could really have done without.
“Get ready to move people.” His voice froze everyone, even Michael lost the vague look in his eyes. “Something’s happening. Something real serious. Something took down Serena’s pack. Over half of them dead, most the rest wounded and all of them scared shitless. Including Serena.”
Bazza frowned, you could almost hear his thoughts clashing slowly together. “Together? Yer ‘aving a laff, Fred. Serena’s pack’s ‘ard, dead ‘ard. Best nutjobs the Night Talons ‘av.”
Andrea, who was a lot better at thinking than Bazza (of course the same can be said of most fungi), actually looked worried. “Without Serena, the Night Talons loose a lot of their threat. They are dangerous, but not very organised, and there’s what? Five, six vamps all looking to unseat Jacob? Any of them stand a chance?”
Michael cleaned his glasses, removing the last stains of blood absently. “I should think that all contenders have a chance... but none of them a clear lead. That will not stop them trying. “ He srugged, and sighed. “So it will be pointless civil war. We can effectively consider the Night Talon’s extinct.”
Bazaa snorted. “No great loss.”
Ethan wasn’t so sure. The politics of the city were pretty bloody unstable. Removing a major player can’t be a good thing. Alfred seemed to agree.
“No, Barry. Without them both Red Knives and Burning Wrath will be unchecked, they may even ally. Besides, the Night Talons territory between the Searing Wind and Blood Rain gangs was the only thing stopping permanent war between them.” For a brief second he looked old and tired. Ethan almost felt sorry for the old man. Almost. “We have to call a council. We have to talk this out and make it clear we don’t approve of all out war.”
The Twins grinned, each drawing a menacing array of blades. “Let’s play...”
Alfred nodded, his tiredness falling away like water., There was only Alfred now, solid as stone, enduring as the earth. He was the king of this city, and if anyone didn’t believe it they were going to be converted. Forcefully.
Ethan actually smiled. This might actually be fun...