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Author Topic: The Ruiner and the Ruined  (Read 779 times)

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Offline joeyfxTopic starter

The Ruiner and the Ruined
« on: May 07, 2011, 12:27:19 PM »
Harvey Oswalt
Born: 17 July, 1956
Died: 31 October, 1992
Tadeo was easily able to dig up all the dirt on Hentai that he wanted, and it was nothing the luscious Vivienne Le Roux had anything to do with. Tadeo could call any one of the long entrenched and invested Lasombra around the city and learn the man's whole story. For one  in such a position of power and ability to grant favors as a Bishop, not to mention for the brotherhood of the clan , they could even direct him to the Ruiner's sire.
Hentai's overshadowing of his sire was infamous among the city's Keepers. The general consensus on Morbius before he granted Hentai the embrace was that of amused patience. Morbius was embraced infamously young, but he had a natural charisma and a knack for making deals that made him thrive within the clan. He had the rather interesting quirk, as many Lasombra do, of vanity, and his manifested in an obsession with mortal "pop culture".  Morbius had his finger on the pulse of humanity in more ways than just a hunger sense.
When he embraced Hentai, he committed quite the taboo. You see, Hentai was a somewhat well known... some would say... Metal God. He was the front man for a rock and roll band by the name of Heart of Darkness in the late eighties/early nineties who made his mark on the music scene when he smashed his guitar across Peter Steel's back when HoD opened for Type O Negative. Morbius managed to spin it to an angle where Hentai's celebrity was obscure enough that the population that he appeals to would only be beneficial for the sect.
In truth, Morbius idolized the rock star. Vanity was the flaw of many a Keeper, and the apparently young up and comer was saddled with something of a reverse anachronism. To make up for the lack of pulse in his own veins, he kept his finger on the pulse of society. He soaked up trends like a sponge and part of his value to the clan was due to this willingness to delve into mortal society. When he'd been turned on to Heart of Darkness, he'd been amazed at the depth of Hentai's lyrics; the dark truths spoken about Oblivion and misery, as if the mortal singer had found a text book on the Abyss. In fact, the truths were so striking that at first he'd wondered if Hentai might not belong to somebody else. It was this covetousness that lead Morbius to embrace Hentai upon their first meeting, skipping the usual ghoulish servitude also so common amongst the Keepers.
As far as the mortal world was concerned, Hentai garnered some attention with his disappearance. Morbius had ample resources to ensure loose ends regarding finance were tied down. Heart of Darkness was at the end of it's record contract so the red tape with the situation was minimal. Tabloids still occasionally report on sightings of the man, but usually they are coupled with tales of such depravity that they never make it beyond the grocery store check out aisle.
From his first nights amongst the Undead, Hentai was displayed and shown off like a prized posession. Entranced with the glamour of both the supernatural world and discovering there was some truth to the words that had long been burried in his heart, he conformed quickly and easily to the mentality of the sect and his acceptance of his situation was almost instantaneous. Morbius treated him well, rushing him through his creation rites and insisting his membership to his pack was a necessity. Hentai's former mortal celebrity coupled with a brutality unleashed by the bite made him many instant friends amongst his clan and soon the vampire once known as Harvey began to garner attention from all angles of his fellow shadow benders.
Harvey was a good choice for the embrace and for his clan in particular. His years on the music scene involved more than just the libertine lifestyle of drugs, sex, and rock and roll. He was used to swimming with sharks. The music industry is ruthless enough, but combine that with the Alpha Male mentality of just about every heavy metal music producer and musician and you get a level of competitive ruthlessness that would gain the appreciation of even the most stalwart of Keepers. He knew how to play the game, and he knew how to bare his teeth.
He had the physique expected of any growling metal head which led to most misjudging his usefulness. He could fight, true, and he served well strong arming when he wasn't performing for his sire, but his was a skill of manipulation. He simply dominated any situation he found himself in, and he exhibited a level of confidence and sheer intimidation that served him in ways mere muscle couldn't have provided. In a word, Hentai was mean. Luckily for him (and unlucky for those that crossed his path) he was also smart, and the pair made for a dangerous combination in a sect of monsters.

The Lasombra had been a powerful force in the city of Denver prior to it's growing to the level of fame it holds today, and with Morbius' desire to show his childe off, Hentai found himself exposed to all sorts of clan mates. Despite the musicians disagreeable nature, he seemed constantly in awe to his sire, even though the childe looked at least fifteen years older than the apparently young man who had brought him into the fold. Hentai seemed capable of sniffing out the weak, and bringing them under his heel, but he never lashed out against the one who commanded him to play. He attended social functions, random clubs, street corners; wherever Morbius happened to be holding an audience. With a snap of the sire's fingers, the childe would pull out his guitar or break it out acapella. Like a puppet on strings... or a monkey made to perform.
And then there were the rumors of another sort of puppetry occurring behind closed doors... rumors amongst the Icarus Fall, a loose-knit pack of socialites and necessary muscle occupying a city still under loose Sabbat control. Shit, once Vivienne lets her pack know about the trouble with Hentai, she might even be surprised to find out that one of the Sisters was a member of Icarus Fall, up until the Ruiner himself led to it's disbanding. She might even be over her fear of her former pack mate enough to tell Viv about the strange relationship that Morbius seemed to impose upon his Rock God childe... maybe... if, in fact, it's possible that one of the Sisters was in another pack.
Still, the Lasombra were no strangers to controversial methods of control, and true or not, it wasn't long before members of the clan were requesting Harvey's attendance to every gathering in town. Old and young alike, the man spoke of Oblivion as if it was a place that resided within him. He'd had no education on the subject outside of his sire's most base understanding, but nonetheless, it seemed as if he were merely speaking logic. He'd grown so jaded by what he saw as intrinsic human nature, that he was ushered along his path with ease, and it wasn't long before people were less interested in listening to him sing and play, and more interested in discussing points of view and ancient dogma.
Access to information birthed a thirst within Harvey. He devoured any books on the occult that he could get his hands on. He studied his path with the dedication of a born again Christian, and in doing so, had more to work with and more to trade. He grew less and less interested in his sire's socializing, and more reclusive. It was when he got mixed up with the Abyssal Mystic that things took a turn for the worse.
The main reason this information is so accessible is largely due to the fact that Morbius actually came from a long line of noble Lasombra. His sire was his ductus, and a couple of generations up the line there was supposedly a Cardinal, so, with as blue as their bloodline is news spread like wildfire in the gossip circles. This meant Hentai's blood was just as blue... and in it's own way it was fitting. He was, after all, rock and roll royalty.
With his extended family displeased, Morbius felt the pressure to exert his will upon the childe more fully. He tried first to reason with the man. He had to see how others in the sect saw it. Utilizing the nihil for the good of the Sabbat was one thing, but to fully give yourself over to it? The Abyssals were a feared and powerful lot, but it was no secret that they were more dedicated to Oblivion than they were to Caine's holy war.
"Fuck Caine."
Two words ruined Harvey's life... just as two fangs ruined his old life. But whoever said being ruined was a bad thing, obviously didn't look at it like Hentai did.
When the fight spilled into public sight and the sect had to become involved in covering it up to some small degree, it was left to the ductus to handle it... Hentai's grandsire. The grandchilde didn't need to be painted as a blasphemer. Everyone saw the signs, now it was just a question of how deep it went. Morbius assured them it went too deep to repair, and convinced his sire to leave Hentai in his hands...
...and that's when Harvey Oswalt disappeared again...
It was about a year later that he resurfaced, seen with his sire at pack functions, but that was about it. He didn't perform or take audiences unless it was for at his sire's whim. When the pressure for conversation or explanation for his absence came, he lashed out, cutting down those he once counted amongst his friends. He became reclusive again, but for entirely different reasons. He'd be seen at gatherings just sitting and staring into the dark, completely blank until something interrupted his 'daydreaming' and inspired an eruption of vulgarities spewed at the offender.
The only time he was seen away from his sire in public was when he was seen running menial jobs for his pack. He'd perform shake downs, break legs, intimidate mortals mostly. Unfortunately he tended to get carried away and it wasn't long before unwanted attention from the mortal population was falling upon his errands.
It was thought best to limit any sorts of jobs that allowed him to lash out. He got delivery gigs. He got body pick up and disposal. He got to power wash fucking brain particles from the inside of his Ductus' Cadillac. Before long, he found himself at a blighted cemetery, digging up a grave, and shivering as the shadow of a chunky voodoo lady fell over his six foot deep body.
Whatever was discussed there that night, whatever occurred, it lit a fire in the dark heart of the Lasombra. Something was there that had been missing since his disappearance from the public eye... Hate.
That same night Hentai caught up with Morbius. The majority of the pack was together, as it was the beginning of the Nosferatu's attacks that led to their eventual genocide. Despite being on edge, they couldn't have been prepared for what was coming. Hentai strolled in and put Morbius on the ground with a single punch. He started kicking him, Morbius crawling backwards, demanding an explanation, and with a line of disgust crossing his face, Hentai just kept stalking forwards and driving his steel toe into his sire's body and face.
Those gathered were shocked at first, but slowly they seemed to decide intervention was the best route. As they moved in, Harvey informed them of the blood bond forced upon him during his captivity. How, since he'd returned, he'd been denied the vaulderie to maintain the bond, despite having been given attrition for his sins. At ritae, they had been made to drink of his blood, but when the challis made it's way back to him, always last, his sire made sure it was empty. Clearly, between going to the Cemetery and arriving back to the haven, this bond had somehow been broken.
It was enough to absolve any assistance from most of the lesser pack members, but the Ductus would not have such disregard for the Code and ordered his pack forward to put Harvey down, like a mad dog. He snarled at his grandsire, and issued his challenge between clenched teeth. He quoted the Code. He 'reminded' the Ductus of the frequent visits while he was locked away. During that time, it seemed, his family had tried to drill the love of the sect into their wayward heir. Drilled... carved... burned... if there was a way to butt fuck the Code of Milan and the history of the sect into somebody, they accomplished such a feat.
The Ductus' pride was his fall. With a derisive snort, he almost chuckled as he accepted, naming the terms as combat to the death, powers of the clan only. His priest began to protest, drawing the elder's attention, but again the Ductus scoffed and insisted the death was well over due. With a nod, the priest conceded... he didn't notice Hentai's flesh bubbling black. He didn't see the hulking smear of humanoid shadow until it had completely shifted.
Word of the fight spread quickly, but it went like wildfire amongst the clan. Icarus Fall had a new Ductus, though no one knew the exact details of what happened in the summoned darkness. One member of the pack claims to have peered through the haze of drowning shadow and saw Hentai's tendrils wrestle the Ductus' away with ease, as if the younger's were made of dark steel rather than manifested substantiated Nothing. It was also said that in those final moments of the struggle, Hentai's face was buried so deep in his grandsire's neck that people could hear his spine breaking with the pressure.
As the darkness dissipated, there stood only one Lasombra. While the fight with the former Ductus was left obscured, Hentai made sure everyone saw what happened to his sire. With a cloud of black still clinging to his shoulders, he marched over to Morbius and put him back on the floor with a single kick. The summoned tendrils that lingered held the Lasombra down while Hentai jerked the man's pants about his knees. Morbius' pale white ass in the air, Hentai offered a lube job of spit before jamming the toe of his boot between the socialite's butt cheeks. Morbius screamed and thrashed, but Hentai did not relent. The ripping of flesh and the scent of blood preceded the foot sinking in. The ruiner continued his slow steady stomp, driving his leather boot deeper and deeper into Morbius' body until finally, he reached down, undid the laces that just barely stuck out of the sire's gaping, ripped asshole, and left his boot wit just the top three inches of leather sticking out.
Lopsided, he walked to the priest. A few words were spoken before he addressed the pack and informed them of the disbanding. Icarus Fall was no more. It's members scattered; some stayed in the city while others went elsewhere. Hentai was one of those that stayed, going underground again for some time. Public accounts say he had joined Acheron long before he showed his face again. Most don't deny that, having merely heard of where the main threats to the sect lay, he took it upon himself to take action against the Nosferatu. He had laid claim to his territory and slowly pushed forward, spreading deeper and deeper into the heart of the city, the heart of darkness, until he was a force feared by the ugly vampires living in Denver's bowels.
Things get less clear for Tadeo after the pack dispersed and Morbius left town, humiliated by his own childe. Rumors persist that Hentai found Mommie in the sewers; the lame woman unable to escape her pursuers on her own and too low on blood to put up a decent fight when her former bodyguard fell to a berserker. It seemed Hentai took up the reins of her protector as, not long after that, he was seen by her side any time she left her cemetery home.
If he wasn't Acheron before, it was made clear soon after that he was now. He relentlessly purged the sewers of the hideous Cainites. He embraced his own suicide squads and sacrificed them like raving blood thirsty Jesuses tossed to the crosses. He captured, tortured, and interrogated every unlucky Ugly to fall into his clutches and through his efforts, through his hatred and territoriality and his indomitable will, he helped in no small part to secure Denver as the fortress it is today.
So Tadeo could take it as he would. Morbius still lived but no longer had anything to do with his childe. With his sewers secured and regularly patrolled with rituals stretching from one end to the other, it's known that Hentai still considers the territory as belonging to him, and by proxy, the sect, though how much he gives a shit about the sect may have been in question amongst a few. He no longer sought audience, but on quiet recent nights deep in the heart of the city, in the heart of darkness, the slow somber wail of an electric guitar can be heard churning for miles beneath the ground.