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Gallia Renaître : Little Goth Lost (IC)


Tiffany Korta

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Calais, France

Thursday, 24th April 2013 00:00

 

It was far too late and she should have been back in the hotel, but she was excited about travelling tomorrow. She had a couple of drinks and was in a good mood; no one had bothered her about her strange clothes and had allowed her to drink in peace.

 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of light and turning towards it she saw two women fighting in a alley both surrounded by glowing aura of light. Super here in Calais of all places! Against her better judgment she made her way over to see if she could in some way help.

 

The younger of the two, a Moroccan girl barely out of her 20’s, had been knocked down to her knees as the other floated above her gloating. As she watched the young Moroccan girl looked up and she caught her eye.

 

And she knew that the woman was Marianne, and least the part she was communicating with, and she was being attacked by someone called Gallia. And that this Marianne was in trouble and need somewhere to hide, not the woman she would be fine but the spirit.

 

It didn’t take her a second for her decide and she agreed with a nod.

 

And like that Marianne was inside her, and somehow she just knew things, but the one thing she knew she had to do was run.


As she fled she had enough time to send a message of help, Marianne had sensed a familiar presence of an old friend, an impression of what just happened and one word of where they would be going...

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Gallia...Marianne...Beatrice...

 

The nightmares and vivid dreams swept up Rene with my vigour than usual that night. Perhaps it was the suspicious looking blue cheese he had had at supper. 

 

Perhaps it was nature of things. 

 

He had been trying to scry Gallia, or - more accurately - her spirit for days, and with little result. Even the usually reliable pool of Parkhurst had not been helpful. 

 

Every ritual he had tried was broken, somehow. His mind, he feared, was not completely focussed. His past had tied him up to much, and his concentration was not sufficient. 

 

But perhaps, in his sleep, bountiful and mysterious, things had fallen into place...

 

He awoke panting, and sweating, clutching his heart. 

 

I'm too old to have a heart attack he reasoned to himself, using the peculiar form of logic only he could muster. 

 

Kicking into some slippers and grumbling about the early hour, he shuffled to his loft, holding barely warm coffee and muttering to himself, until his eyes caught site of a painting. By his hand, he knew, but not painted whilst he was waking. 

 

"Zut Alors" he saided, almost shouting. "I $£!% against ze hurricane for days, and ze jigsaw is done in my sleep!"

 

He had no idea where he was painting, but he could solve that one. Just step into it. But first...

 

It was early in the morning, but he had to contact Marceau...

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<"...The two Puissants made a pretty big mess of those buildings. Their powers don't match any we have on record, but so many slip through the cracks, you know?">

Marie Leon, the Jack of Hearts of Paris, sounded immensely tired as she made her report over the phone, though its natural huskiness did a lot to disguise that. 

 

Marceau nodded, his mobile cradled against his left ear supported by his shoulder as he peeled the hefty potatoes into the sink and watched the harsh flashes of light explode between the two women on the small CCTV screen. It wasn't the best setup, but it beat the nothing he had had only a few years ago. Frowning, the French vigilante said <"I understand Jack of Hearts, you do the best you can, tell..their faces and clothes are obscured by the glow, too much lens flare and random flashes, do our agents have anything?"> There was a moment's hesitation on the other end before the Jack said <"One forty-five, just beyond the alley, I think there's another one you might know.">

 

Rewinding the video to the suggested time, the young man's eyes flicked back and forth across the screen, stopping dead when an all too familiar woman appeared. Eyes widening he said rapidly <"That is Gallia, she's still got Beatrice, did you follow her?"> <"We couldn't get there in time, one of the agents did track her though, all the way to the Chunnel train station."> There was a long silence after that. Eventually Marie began <"...Sir? Are you-?"> only to be cut off by a hurried <"Thank you, Jack of Hearts. Well done. I shall look into this at once. Now go get some sleep, King out!">

 

After Marie cheerfully wished him good night, Marceau tossed the last of the potatoes into the sink(leaving instructions for Jackie to finish preparing lunch), washed himself up, got together his gear from the chest, donned his costume and slipped out to a corner of the alleyway behind the apartment building, removing a pile of artfully decrepit trash bags to reveal a sleek green-white wheel-less motorcycle! With a few taps on the controls and a turn of the sphere at its centre, the thing thrummed with power as its gravity engine activated, and its rider promptly leaped onto the seat as it began lifting off the ground. Grinning with excitement as he got ready to roar across the ocean, Marceau whispered to himself  "Next stop, England!"

 

`deetdeetdeetdeet! deetdeetdeet!`

"Stupid phone."

 


 

Arriving shortly after René's call, the King of Suits looked with a critical eye at his friend's painting, explanations taken care of. Rubbing his bearded chin he leaned closer to it, then turned.

 

"Well my friend!" he said thoughtfully "I like your earlier work, but this latter piece is...transporting." he smiled openly, and clapped the old man gently on the back. "Let us away, eh?"

 

Glancing back at his gravity bike humming near the ceiling he added "Also, I am taking this with me. We may need to chase her down one we're in England!"

 

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"What wizardry is this?" inquired Rene, examining the hovering Grav-cycle. 

 

"Japanese I expect. Very nice lines. Exotic structure. Ze flow of machine and steel is peculiar but pleasing!" he commented, tapping it gently. 

 

"You won't find me riding it, of course!" he said stiffly. 

 

Turning his attention to the painting, he stroked the edge of the canvas. 

 

"Most unusual this one. Done in ze depths of sleep. Such things are powerful and, like dreams, not entirely in ones control, or, for that matter, entirely out of it...as the impossible advice goes...expect the unexpectable!"

 

And with that, he plunged his hand into the painting, and grabbed Marceau and his vehicle with the other, pulling them through the most extraordinary, vivid, and wonderous process into England...

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The Florence Guest House, Whitby, North Yorkshire, England, United Kingdom

11 am, 24th April 2013


Whitby was probably famous for two thing’s the arrival point of the (fictional) Dracula on British soil and it’s bi-annual Goth Weekend. This unfortunately led every year for one or two young down on their luck vampire’s trying their luck for an easy meal on the sudden influx of Goth’s.


That was why Aaliya Kapoor was here as an agent of the MInistry's she was here to assist the local Bobbies to restrain any Vampire out to take advantage of the situation. Cause as a nice advantage it meant she could pop home to Bradford and her father’s cooking.

She had decided to walk up the hill to meet with a couple of Copper’s at guest house to have a quiet chat with a possible vampire who’d booked himself in the night before. Pausing to adjust her suit she looked down the hill to Whitby Habour and the River Esk, if she was an artist that would have been the kind of view she’d want to paint...

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Bursting out onto the lawn with an explosion like liquid paint, the King of Suits rolled head-over-heels on the grass, coming to a stop a few feet from Aaliya Kapoor. He lay still as the world reeled above him. The grav-cycle flew out of the portal even faster than he did without friction to slow it down, coming to a thrumming halt several meters away.

 

Jumping nimbly to his feet, he glanced around at his new surroundings, sniffed the air and grinned. <"Good work, my friend!"> he told René as he brushed grass off the older man, looking more carefully at the English land around them <"Your art is splendid as alway-"> he paused, having caught sight of the woman very close by. <"I shall introduce us, she looks like a decent sort!"> he said brightly to the painter as he broke away and bounded over to the woman on his long legs.

 

Reaching Aaliya, he bowed gracefully, saying in his French-accented English "Good morning! I am the King of Suits, a superhero. This fine gentleman is the esteemed René de Saens, of a similar profession. We have come searching for a mystically-powered fugitive who may be in the area, and mean no harm to anyone. May I ask your name, my lady?" he asked with a winning smile, blue eyes catching the risen sun spectacularly.

Edited by Arichamus
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The woman in the suit didn’t seem overly concerned about the sudden arrival of the two French heroes, whilst the two Police Officers with her crouched behind their car and used some very choice words.

 

“Detective Kapoor, I’m here on business for the Ministry of Powers.†She flashed them both her identification badge “I know we allow people from across Europe to travel freely, but not normally quite so direct. If the papers found out they’d be incandescent, it’s lucky you’re not both Romanian.â€

 

She straightened her lapels and reigned in her ramblings.

 

“But before we get Immigration involved may I ask what brings you both onto UK soil?â€

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"Well its quite simple...ah that is...it is quite complicated..." replied Rene, twiddling his thumbs. 

 

He stewed over in his mind exactly what to say. It was barely plausible even to him. 

 

"The fact is, madam, I come here on intuition. I realise this is a poor explanation, but it is ze truth nonetheless. My friend and I are her trying to track down an enigmatic spirit, one quite malign in intent, and ancient in nature. We come to stop it. It has already posessed a poor innocent, and has the power to spread its control much further..."

 

"I fear for ze future madam, if you do not trust us, and even help us!"

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"Hello there!" the King of Suits waved over to the policemen and extended his warm smile their way. He was momentarily taken aback at meeting someone from the MoP, whose members were admired throughout Europe! Shaking the Ministry detective's hand he said "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Detective Kapoor of that esteemed Ministry. I..hope we have not done anything wrong by our choice of transport." for a moment he looked grave, stepping back as the artist made his case.

 

"It is as monsieur de Saens tells it" he added when René had made his appeal, walking through the wet grass over to his eerily floating grav-bike, his cape gathering the dew behind him.

 

Leading it back to the woman like a man guiding a horse, he tapped a button and let the alien machine float gently to the ground. Sitting with a dull fwump on the ground, he began at once in his deep, quiet voice "The one responsible for the attack on the portrait unveiling in Freedom, the Puissant who calls herself 'Gallia', is who we are after. I have heard from my agents in the House of Cards that she was recently seen in Calais, and boarded the Channel train last night. De Saens' 'intuition'" he smiled despite himself "sent us to this hill."

 

Watching an ant crawl over his gloved hand he concluded "As René said, she has enslaved an innocent's body to her mind. She must not escape us."

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Reach some kind of decision she nodded to two police officers who seemed to relax a little.


“You’ve quite a history Rene deSaens, the director tells this story about the two of you during the War. She normally has to have a few sherries in her first, the Ministry Christmas parties are quite an event.†a little more relaxed her strong Yorkshire accent shined through.

 

“Look I’m here to tell a young down on his luck vampire that the Goth’s visiting are off the menu, just tell him mind you, he's not to harmed. If you two help me deal with him I will give you the full assistance of the Whitby field office. Mind you that just me and my laptop...â€

Edited by TiffanyKorta
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"Ze deal is struck!" said Rene in a slow and rich voice, elevating a finger to the air to indicate its import. 

 

"I have had my dealings with vampires in my many years. Although I am not ze expert, I may be of some assistance. As for fighting, well I am a helpless old man, and will surely be of no value to you in such matters. It has been a long time since world war II..." he continued, his mind drifting over the years to his time in the French Resistance, and the ugly magics of the Thule society and Nazi Germany. 

 

He did indeed know a bit about vampires, although he had no doubt that Nick Cimitiere or Revenant would be more equipped in that department. Still he knew enough to help, he imagined. 

 

"So! Let us meet this misfortunate vampire. Or must we wait for the sun to reach a lower point in ze sky?"

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'Vampire trouble? In Whitby? Well, they can't all be in Kosovo and Italy' The King of Suits nodded firmly "We will do all we can. The poor creature might be swayed just by having someone to talk to. Despite monsieur de Saens being a helpless old man, he is quite cunning and skilled, and I have some slight martial experience and a few useful gadgets to bring to the table. And both of us know a thing or two about vampires" he winked at Det. Kapoor. Neither of them were anyone's first choice for dealing with the living dead, but the lean Frenchman wasn't about to pass up a chance to learn. Besides, this would let them quickly get in touch with people who could lead them straight to Gallia.

 

Offering his hand he said with a warm smile "Your Ministry just got some temporary agents, detective. Lead the way."

 

Tapping the button on his grav-bike again, he carefully raised it to a foot off the ground. Sliding a guiding beacon onto his belt Marceau added thoughtfully "My friend makes a good point, can the poor fellow come out during the day? And however did you learn about him?" he asked with a look of great interest.

 

'I've heard a lot about the Le Puissante of England. It will be interesting to see how they deal with these monsters!'

Edited by Arichamus
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Aaliya raised her an eyebrow at the two of the insisting that Rene was helpless, but choose not to reply.


“The staff noticed his unusual behaviour, there unusual and unusual, there rather use to it. Besides there’s always one or two that try it on at these event’s.â€


She looked over at the young female police officer, who taking the hint opened her notebook.


“The man booked in late last night, using the name Alculard, so we don’t know if he’ got any previous, the staff gave him a west facing room upstairs on the first floor as he requested. Suspicious about all this they contacted us, as well as refusing him any room service.†she was a little hesitant but came across as professional.


“It’s alright you don’t get many Power’s in Whitby, it’s rare you get you them outside the big cities. As long as the vampire got no previous he’s free to stay, though we’ll tag him, if he’s got previous you’ll turn him over to our Boy’s and Girls in Blue here. He sound’s like he’s a newborn so keep him out of sunlight.â€

 

She took out a walkie talkie and after a few second thought offered it to Rene.

“Let us know when he’s safe and we’ll come up to process him. And be careful some vampire’s can be cranky if there woken up during the day.â€

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In the Florence Guest House...

 

Rene had taken the walkie talkie with thanks, and shaken it gently, tapping it, and finally putting it, upside down and the wrong way round to his ear, before nodding his approval. 

 

"Wonderful!" he commented. 

 

As soon as they were out of eyesight from detective Aaliya, he handed the thing to the King of Suits. 

 

"Dreadful" he commented. 

 

"I shall never understand modern technology, my friend. In ze old days, I could keep up with the marvels of science, but I fear the pace of change is speedy beyond my tears. 

 

He stood inside the Guest House, eyes soaking in what, to his mind, was a wonderful quaintness. 

 

"Ah, I could paint here!" he said, with a smile on his face. "How come I never came to Whitby? The fields and green of England are a marvel to the eye. Why I remember young Will Turner and his enthusiasm for..." he drifted of amiably for a few minutes before floating back to the present. 

 

"Still, we have our concerns of the moment, eh? come, let us see what this Alculard has to say! I hope you can speak Romanian. I am afraid my Russian is a bit rusty..."

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The outlandish pair had gotten more than a few guarded looks as they made the short walk over to the guest house, most of them directed at the man in the cape and cowl strolling along and beaming at everyone the two Frenchmen passed. Marceau didn't mind the stares, it was nice to be out and see new places and people again after years spent in the Fens of Freedom City. He glanced up at the cheerful red brick house and its soothing blue roof, and sighed inwardly. 'Been a while since I saw a place like this...' he thought as they stepped through the door and into the House. As they took their leave of Det. Aaliya Kapoor('she is quite lovely'), he bowed to her slightly "We shall not disappoint you Detective, you may depend on that." he said as the windowed door shut behind them.

 

Like René he loved the old aesthetic, and it sent warmth through his heart though his was a much shallower appreciation of something familiar. He had stayed at guest houses like it when he was a child and his parents traveled.

 

His reverie was rudely interrupted when the radio was flung his way, and catching it awkwardly he looked at René in a moment of blinkered confusion before smiling fondly, sliding it onto a free spot on his utility belt and commenting "It takes a while to get adjusted, my friend. I am sure you'll get it."

 

Walking up to the lady behind the front desk he politely explained what the men were there for, assuring her that they intended no harm to 'Alucard' and wouldn't start a devastating fight in the guest room. Thanking her warmly he led the way up to the man's room, knocking firmly on the door. "Hello? Alucard? We would like to talk to you." he called cheerfully in his deep voice through the crisp white wood panels.

Edited by Arichamus
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  • 2 weeks later...

There was no answer to the door, not surprising from a vampire during the day. After a few second the Guest Houses manager, who had followed them up, stepped delicately between the pair and unlocked the door.


The room was quite spacious and decorated in quite a restrained manner, and seemed to have been completely untouched. Light even filtered in from the window, which meant it was unlikely that the vampire was sleeping in this room.

 

Which just left the Bathroom, which seemed to be closed and locked.

Edited by TiffanyKorta
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"I suppose its more effective than suncream" shrugged Rene with an old curled smile. 

 

He straightened up a little, creaking slightly, and proceeded to rap on the bathroom door. 

 

"Mr. Alculard?" he asked, putting his head and mouth close to the door. 

 

"My name if Rene DeSaens. I am with a Mr. King" he said, giving a wink at the King of Suits. 

 

"We are aware of ze particular...affliction you have. We wish you no harm, but come on behalf of ze authorities to explain some of ze ground rules here. To be more precise, what is, and what is not, on ze menu!" he said with an unbidden slight chuckle. 

 

He gave another wink at Marceau. Something about a vampire locking himself in a bathroom was slightly amusing, or ludicrous. Perhaps, he wondered, he should be more careful or alert, but - after all - one must  take some joy in your work, he reasoned to himself. 

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Rapping himself lightly on the skull for his rookie mistake, Marceau followed after Rene to the bathroom door. Before the manager left he called after her "Thank you very much! Don't worry, we're not entirely hapless!"

 

Responding to his friend's comment with a barely-suppressed grin, the Frenchman nodded as he briefly took in the beautiful room, frowning as he mentally contrasted it with where he had lived for the last few years. This place wasn't crowded and dirty and smelly and...he quickly dropped that train of thought and squared his shoulders, blue eyes narrowing. He and Rene de Saens had a job to do, the Ministry of Powers, or at least one of their agents, was depending on them to work things out and make sure this man did nothing dangerous and unwise.

 

Catching the artist's words at the tail end he smiled openly and added "Alucard, this is Mr. King. Me and Monsieur de Saens have no desire to fight. Please come out so we can talk more comfortably" as he spoke the tall young man closed the curtains with a whisk of fabric, on second thought he quickly took off his cape and draped it across the window to block out sunlight.

 

"I've made things a little darker, if that helps." the King of Suits said hopefully.

Edited by Arichamus
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  • 2 weeks later...

A slightly tired voice came from behind the door.

 

“I know you here to kill me you’re Van Helsing’s aren’t you? I’m not stupid enough to come into a room bathed in sun light?â€

 

Rene may not be as knowledgeable as some of his colleagues but he did know that many vampires were paranoid’s in some way. He might be a young inexperienced vampire, but like most predators they vampire were dangerous when cornered, especially if they hadn’t feed for a while.

 

“Give me some reason why I should trust you and come out into there?â€

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Sitting down on the floor before speaking, the darkly-clad vigilante weighed what the nervous vampire had said. At length he glanced up at Rene and called past the door "Alucard, if we wished to fight you wouldn't we use that exceptionally wooden door? Perhaps blow it to shrapnel while shining the sun's rays on you with mirrors? Or whatever it is that people do to fight vampires? Waiting for a very dangerous enemy to act first is perilous. Besides, take a look under the door, " he added encouragingly, scooting a few feet away from the bathroom "you can see quite well that it's much darker than it was even seconds ago!"

 

"Please, at least open the door a crack, de Saens and I will stay at the other end of the room as a show of good faith" he gestured hurriedly to Rene to follow him over to the crisp drawer "we want to explain the situation of the town and some rules to you, and after our discussion we'll depart and leave you in peace."

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After a few second the door opened a crack and a very pale, a potentially very young face stared out.


“Louis, Louis Lovell, I’m registered with the Ministry and everything.â€


He disappeared behind the door again, though it was left open, and he held out of the dor for both of them to see a small card. The detail on the card confirmed his name and that he was indeed a vampire. The picture on the card was of him, though it had a graining quality to the image, it must be whatever they used so he would show up on film.


“I was only here to find willing donor, as per the agreement, I promise you. What going to happen to me now?â€

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This wasn't what he had expected. Marceau had been ready for surliness, deception or even hostility, and Louis' quiet acceptance had all but the taken the wind out of his sails. It was a pleasant surprise though, and the Frenchman smiled kindly at the young vampire, letting the curiosity show in his accented voice "Oh indeed monsieur Lovell?" he asked politely, gesturing to the nearby chair, inviting him to sit "I had no idea the Ministry was so thorough, when did-? I beg your pardon, that is hardly the point of our visit. Louis, I and my friend need to know if you have done anything against the terms of your visit. Have you drunk anyone's blood against their will here? Or used your powers to do anything else illegal? Tell us what has happened since you arrived, we shall confirm your memory and you will get no more trouble from us."

 

Squaring his narrows shoulders he looked apologetic "I'm afraid the Ministry of Powers wishes to impress upon you how seriously they take this Louis. The lives and blood of people here for the Goth event have been under threat from vampires in the past, and nobody can risk any laxity."

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  • 3 weeks later...

With the Vampire so easily surrendering the police and Aaliya were soon brought up and Louis was taken away to be taken care of safely.


“Don’t worry he’ll spend the day in the day tank and we’ll resettle him tonight, as you might have guess this little town’s had a little experience with vampire’s. There as much of the life blood, if you excuse the pun, to this town as the Goth’s and biker’s are.â€


As she talked she walked with them back down to outside the Guest House.

 

“So it seems I have a couple of hour’s to kill how about we get a bite to eat and you can tell me what you’re looking for? There’s this lovely little cafe just down the road or we even have a Starbase Coffee if you're so inclined?â€

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Rene sniffed his nose, somewhat impolitely at Starbase Coffee. 

 

"I would prefer to avoid ze cardboard swill of that establishment, madame. Non! even ze inferior cuisine of ze English will be preferable to ze offences of mass produced plastic!" he said with passion. 

 

"As we are in ze English Countryside, I think we are best places to avail ourselves of ze Charm of English Public House, with ze Garden of Ze Beer, Non? as Ze English cannot master ze Noble art of Winemaking, They have to suffice with brewing lesser tonics. I will concede this to them!" he said, wiggling his leathery eyebrows. 

 

"And then, I hope you can help with our little task at hand, Madame!" he said with a bow and smile at Aaliya. 

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Aaliya gave a smile and looked at her watch.

 

“Well it’s a little early in the day for a beer, but they’re a couple of pub’s not far from here. Unfortunately my budget didn’t stretch to a car, I had to take the train down here, and I’m not sure that that thing can take all of us.†She looked at the Grav bike slightly suspiciously.

 

“The Little Angel probably the best for our purposes, it has a selection of wine but it prides itself on its Cask Ale’s. Popular with the Goth’s though most still aren’t here yet.â€

Edited by TiffanyKorta
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