:SABB/R/AT;

“I don’t think that works, under the circumstances? Tired usually means hungry, or morning. And it’s not morning. So...” He pushed off the wall, sending the swivel chair and him with it across the floor, so he could pull up alongside Coyote.

  “Shit, I’ve barely touched an actual computer since my working days now that I think about it. What is it with them, I wonder? Are they sincerely unable to learn or do they choose not to. Poor idiots can’t even type ‘tits’ into a search engine. I’d blame it on asbestos or lead paint, but some of them predate the thatched roof, and therefore popcorn ceiling. But of course, many still think the geriatrics ward should be in charge.” Coyote chuckled at their own ranting.

  “I don’t really have any games on my phone. I have Little Alchemy but that’s it. I mostly watch videos of possums eating grapes when I’m bored. But I’m sure I can install a few multiplayer games! I don’t got a computer but if you need some parts, I’m sure we can hook you up.” They relied entirely on their cellphone since they were able to use data anywhere. A computer would require WiFi, and you can’t exactly have the necessary hardware installed in a building that should be condemned.

  Another smile, “There’s really not much of a secret. Personally, it was a matter of having some trustworthy company but also just being in touch with the people around you. Ultimately, it’s about not working by yourself and not letting others have to fend for themselves. To function as a fist, you gotta be willing to be a cell in the muscle.” Patting Theo’s arm for emphasis.

  Coyote gasped, “Little guy!” They cooed, “Does…Does he bite?” Their eyes shimmered as they gazed at the creature. Fuzzy with beady eyes was inviting, but seeing as the local strays reacted to their presence, they didn’t want to risk getting their finger bit.

  They walked along with Theo, listening as best they could but still glancing at That every few seconds. “Fuuuckin’ werewolves. I don’t got anything in me anymore but I think I’d shit my britches.” They listened intently to his tale, “Sounds like you’ve seen it all. Good thing you got out of it. I know how…disposable they treat their folk. And I know how destructive some are. Takes iron will to break out of something like that. Congrats!”

  “This existence requires toughness, it’s just knowing when you’re beat. Too many hang their nuts a little too close to the rat trap because they think they’ll never fuck up. Hubris. Hubris is what’ll bite you. Bite…Does he bite? Wait.“ They paused, brow furrowed as they forced their train of thought back on track. “And don’t worry. The only thing I’m ever in bed with is purple, made of silicone, and vibrates like the real thing. Heyo!“ Lifting a hand in hopes of receiving a high-five.

“I guess it might vary, but I watched a guy struggle for twenty minutes to ring an automated doorbell once, and I’m not sure that was from lack of trying. Then again, he was pretty sweet on his assistant. She must’ve sent at least a hundred SMS’s on his behalf each night, so who knows.”

Theo perked up at the offer, lifting his hands in the air. “Hell yeah! It would really help to tide me over until I can figure out my own sources... Yes, if there is one thing our sects could agree on, it might be the importance of unity.” He rubbed the back of his neck, conflicted. That inner voice rose up to defend his former colleagues, to justify their ways - his ways - but he reminded himself that he did not walk with a friend. Coyote was genial. Geniality was no Vaulderie. “I don’t have much love for many Bishops back in Vienna, but... you should be aware there are just as many rumours of the Sabbat as there are of the Anarchs, Coyote.” On cue, That plopped out of the Nosferatu’s hood proper, clambering around and clawing at the drawstrings of his jumper.

“He’s great at biting! Loves biting. Trying to enlighten him a bit on who to bite though, we’ve had some close calls.” It took him a moment to process what on earth Coyote was talking about. Whether he’d figured it out or not, he snickered either way and met the Baron’s splayed palm with a fist-bump.

  “Nosferatu and their phones these days,” they teased, mocking the tone of a grouchy old man, “Meh! Better well-connected than a Luddite though.” No sweat off their back. That’s just how a lot of Nosferatu are, not bad people to at least be comfortable with. If there were any clan they could slap with a big rubber “reliable-ish” stamp, it was the Nosferatu. Their unlife would probably be significantly harder if it weren’t for the locals. Advancement required actually bothering to advance, which included keeping up with technology these days. “Got any gaaames?”

  Coyote smiled warmly upon their domain being complimented. “Oh, you! I’m glad you feel that way. It was a team effort though, just about everybody got their hands in on that big mud pie. Give and get, Theo. That’s the key. Hand clasped in one another’s, eyes facing the horizon, looking over each other’s shoulder. Nobody has to fight alone.”

  “Well, we were existing in ignorant bliss for some time. Thinking everything south of the river was ours. The previous ‘Baron’ ultimately revealed herself to be one of the many worms in the Camarilla’s rectum…She’d fallen out of their good graces, but I supposed she missed the taste of boot.” They gave a heavy sigh, ”Ah, we were pissed. But again, can you really say you’ve lived if you haven’t had a Bloodhunt put out on you? Her and the previous Prince of London? Dusted, ashed, riddled with holes, and beheaded. Bitch made me feel stupid…Death for joy, though. A song in major key.”

  “Enough of that though. The cobblestone might just start jeering at me. Maybe you can ask Elias more about things.” In all honestly, everything that’d happened left them all the more wary of others. Despite Ymir being gone, just remembering how they felt when things begun to unravel could easily have their mood swinging high and low.

  Coyote noticed the wriggling in his hoodie, “Damn, Theo. I didn’t know you felt that way.” They snorted, “Seriously though, ya bring a buddy with ya? Uhhh, I mean, there’s tons of little shops open 24/7 for the drunkies. I’m sure we could find one with pasta. C’mon!” Stepping forward, beckoning him to follow, “Tell me your story! What makes you so tough?”

for @sabbrat​​

 Coyote slinked through the darkness, making their nightly rounds to ensure the general peace was maintained. No suspicious black SUVs, shifty-eyed Ghouls, or random loafer-wearers popping their heads up at Tooth & Knave to be seen tonight. Good. They considered this scrumptious little slice of Anarch Free State to be one of mob rule. All they had to do was do some yelling in order to get things real ugly real fast. This Free State, everybody in it, had become their pride and joy.

  They dragged their hand along the sides of the old buildings, scratching long black fingernails against ancient brick, squealing against panes of glass. Coyote paused abruptly, a wide grin stretched across their face. Talking about ugly, they saw a certain prawn-shaped figure around the corner. 

  “AYOOO!!!” Coyote bellowed, as they ran up, heavy boots beating against cobblestone. They nudged their shoulder into the Nosferatu’s, seemingly forgetting their own shrimpiness. “Haven’t seen ya in a couple of nights, ratlad! How ya likin’ the place? We’ve just cleaned her out recently. Hell of a show. Should’a seen it!” Maybe they were letting their extroversion get the best of them, but they just wanted Theo to feel comfortable and at ease in their domain. That’s all they wanted for any vampire who was seeking it. “Anybody but me giving you a hard time, let me know.”

“AYOOO! If it isn’t the boss!” His pronunciations bore the heavy influence of his homeland, but he could parse Coyote’s slang most of the time. Theo acknowledged the Malkavian was talking with the occasional nod along, maybe even an “Mhm, mhm...” but appeared more focused on his mobile than anything else. Probably not the best route to making a good impression on the person who’d agreed to take him in. But then Theo had never been one to take the best route, as his Sire could attest to (and often did). The gadget gave off a soft beep-boop here and there to the rhythm of whatever Candy Crush knock-off he was currently invested in. The moment a text notification pinged, however, he stashed the phone into his pocket and clapped his hands together. His old mask was too well-known, attention no longer a welcome friend as it had once been. The Nosferatu’s dark sclera and torn skin gave him away to any Cainite with eyes without these coverings, but he’d been surprised that the Baron hadn’t asked him to remove the various patches and bandages upon arrival. Already they were a marked improvement on the Bishops of his home country.