A Murder of Malkavians

[sully]

Rain beat softly against the large bay windows of the museum's fifth floor. The dark overcast sky and the low lighting of the room caused the shadows cast by the taxidermy animals to seem larger and more life like than usual. A few patrons wandered aimlessly through the exhibits, no one speaking a word. Archie eyed each one suspiciously, observing their movements for any hint of subterfuge.

Anyone could be a member of the Shadow Order, even if they themselves didn't know it. The music they listen to, the programs they watch on TV, the things they're taught in school, all subtly manipulate them to be perfect sleeper agents for the Order. Archie pitied them. The poor misguided fools. Too obsessed with their own lives to worry about the outside forces making their choices for them, leaving them with no real life at all. An old woman coughed, breaking Archie's concentration and the bone chilling silence and causing everyone else in the room to jump in terror. Archie instinctively reached for his knife beneath his jacket, knowing that this was most likely a signal to the other Order members to strike. But nothing happened. Everyone went back to the exhibits, paying no mind to him or anyone other than themselves.

Archie slipped the hunting knife back into it's sheath and went back to looking at the mountain lion in front of him. He had always loved animals. Unlike their human counterparts, animals hold no ulterior motives. They simply exist and do what they need to survive; eat and fuck. The taxidermist was obviously skilled at his craft, the creature truly looking as if it's about to pounce on him and feast on his flesh. The idea made Archie's mouth water, realizing the last time he fed was much longer than he realized. His eyes began to scan the room, this time looking for a quick meal, but quickly stopped himself. Not only could any of them be members of the Order, but he had another reason to be here. One far more important than simply getting a bite to eat.

He was here to meet another of his kind. One who he hoped would introduce him to this new city he was forced to call his home. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait too long. Staying in one location, especially one so public, would attract the Shadow Order eventually. If they were not here already.

[Black Philip]

There had been no invitation, at least not one that anyone but a child of Malkav would understand. Jimmy strut into the museum, tossing his half smoked fag into a nearby rubbish bin, unsympathetic to the trash fire he knew it would cause. Sure enough the can erupted in flames, and the security guards ran to handle it.

That's right. Be good little chaps and clean that up for me.

He was in a merry mood. The good doctor was properly in his cage, the events of the academy satisfying the professor's need to be a pompous ass. Cain was proving to be quite a good weakness for old Barrow, and Jimmy had been getting more and more outside time since meeting him. Take tonight for example. Seeing Cain put Barrow on a one way path to self destructive thoughts, and those always led straight to Jimmy. The museum was mostly boring. Learning was boring. Jimmy just wanted to have a little fun, and maybe the clarion call that he'd received would be that little fun. He wondered if the mad dog prophet with questionable fashion sense would be joining them, or was he too busy writing poems of his visions and working for old Bennie boy?

He made his way to the elevator easy enough. Barrow loved to come here so Jimmy was well aware of it's layout. He reached the fifth floor without incident, except for a few stares from some pretty ladies. Too bad he'd never want to fuck them. He spotted his target, and a flash of memory overtook him.

You and I have more in common than you think, Barrow had once told this Archie, and would you look at that. He was a Malkavian now. He grandly entered, making as much noise as possible to attract as much attention as possible.

"Is that... Archie? Archie old boy! And would you look at that, got your lifetime membership card to the same club as me. Well, whoever said I lack the power of prophecy!"

He slapped old Archie on the back, not very hard as Jimmy was fairly weak, but enough to sting, and make yet another big noise. "What do I owe the pleasure? Come to thank me?"

[sully]

Archie was the kind of person who’s hair always stood a bit on end, always on alert for the slightest hint of trickery or betrayal waiting right around the corner. But at that moment he felt the hand slap him across the back, he felt his hair fall down, his anxiety and paranoia quieted for a single moment. This is why he always sought out his own kind. They were the only ones who he felt he could trust without question. The only ones who made him feel safe.

Archie turned to the man and smiled warmly at him. “Hello Dr.Barrow/Jimmy. It’s good to see you again.” The two names seemed to blend together into one word. Archie could not tell you why he addressed Jimmy in such a way. Only knowing that it felt right when it was said. “If only I had known what you were when I met you all those years ago. Would have saved me fifteen years of searching for the truth.” As he says the word truth, Archie’s head twitches slightly and his pupils dilate. “If only I had known about our clan and the atrocities committed against us by the Shadow Order and their cronies. I could have fought the Order rather than hide in fear of them.” Archie continues to stare directly in front of him, muttering softly about the Order and the race of lizard men they bred to dethrone the pope and install their own reptilian representative of God.

[Black Philip]

Jimmy seemed disappointed Archie didn't go into a fit of some kind, and frowned. Malks tended to either be soothed by their own kind or made crazier by them, and Archie it seemed was the soothed variety. When his names were said together he sneered.

Fucking Malkavians.

"It's Jimmy love. Barrow's sleeping." He pointed to his forehead. Then the man went into his rant, and even without Dr. Barrow's knowledge of psychology Jimmy was able to figure out the score. This guy was paranoid as shit. Should he slap him? That worked sometimes. Maybe kiss him? No, that was what he wanted from Cain later. He instead listened to mad man spin his web, his face showing his agitation.

"Well the lizard people aren't here," Jimmy said to soothe him. "I checked earlier because I knew we were meeting. No lizard people."

He wrapped an arm around Archie's shoulder and started walking him towards the elevator. "Come along you little dandy let's check out the room. We can speak without the shadow order listening. Shadows. Shadow demons killing Anarchs. The Black Prince lies in a pile of ash with the god of thunder standing atop his ashes."

He made no explanation for his odd word vomit, and kept leading them to the lift.

[sully]

As Jimmy wrapped his arm around Archie’s shoulder his eyes returned to normal and the muttering stopped. For a moment he stared blankly back at Jimmy as he was led to the elevator. “Oh the lizard men wouldn’t live here. One of the few reasons I was ok moving here. Not a great climate for them.” Archie said, more to calm himself than correct Jimmy.

He noded firmly as Jimmy’s words dribbled out of his mouth. While he knew nothing of the context of Jimmy’s statement, Archie sensed it’s importance. He had moved to this city for a reason. The Camrilla has only banished him from New York. He had been free to move anywhere else in the world, but had felt pulled to this place for a reason beyond his comprehension. Archie assumed it had something to do with a Shadow Order, but really, when was anything not related to them.

As they entered the elevator and the strong mental auras of the two Malkavians sent any other visitors shuffling quickly away, Archie turned to Jimmy and said flately “I need you to tell me what’s going on in this city. Things are... happening here. I know that. I can feel it in my molars. Like that time I nearly caught Sasquatch trying to rig the 2008 elections for McCain. Please friend, tell me what is going on in this begotten city.”

[Black Philip]

Didn't he know it was the 2016 election he should be worried about? Anyways, Jimmy didn't really want to debate the man's obvious delusions. Nor did he want to play twenty questions. This was such a job for Barrow. Wait. That was it.

The doctor's head slumped for a second, before a groggy man with a much posher accent looked around and then at Archie. "Oh lord. How did I get here, and why do I feel like I know you?"

He looked bewildered, and it would be obvious to Archie something was very different about the man now. He pulled out a pair of black-framed glasses and put them on. "Much better," he said, soothed by them somehow.

[sully]

Archie cocks his head to the side, curiously watching the mental transformation in front of him. Once completed, he straights up and smiles “oh! Hello Dr.Barrow/Jimmy. It’s nice to see you again!” Archie looks off in thought “I was just talking to your friend a minute ago, but he just up and left. Odd...” For a second it looks as though Archie’s paranoia was about to manifest, a whole list of reasons as to how Jimmy’s “disappearance” tied into the bisexual zombie women of southern Florida and their plan to raise Atlantis underneath DisneyWorld. But the moment passes quickly and he smiles again at Dr. Barrow and says “guess he must of had a good reason. And I’m happy to talk to you as well Dr. Barrow/Jimmy.”

Archie leaded Dr. Barrow out of the elevator and through the large glass doors of the museum. The rain had stopped, but the clouds refused to leave, the sun barely perceptible behind the dark grey veil. He lit a hand rolled cigarette and said “I’ll be frank... I’m not the best at getting to know new people, but... I know I have something to offer this city and I need to know the lay of the land so I can try and do... something...”. He continued to mutter under his breath about the people passing by and their dark motives as he smoked his cigarette

[Black Philip]

Dr. Barrow was still highly confused but was quickly rationalizing that this was a Malkavian thing. Being called Jimmy, even for a moment, seemed to make the good doctor recoil, but he got over that too, just about the moment they got outside the museum. He remembered this man now. He'd met him in New York at a clock store. He'd fixed his watch. Yes, he had the right marks. Had Barrow been a bit older he may have sired the strange, although admittedly good looking, man. The references to Jimmy's reasoning let Dr. Barrow know that Archie didn't understand the foul dark passenger at all, but that would be a chat for another day.

"Oh yes, let's perhaps take a stroll and I can tell you what I know," Barrow said, leading Archie through the popular and cute south district.

He'd explain about how the districts worked, how there was no Camarilla but there were Anarchs and they ruled the metropolis under the Black Prince Jake McCloud, that witches ruled the south, and Dark Angels ruled in the North and Northwest. He hadn't even met this Saraekiel who supposedly represented him, but he figured he would soon. He explained that a lost clan of Cain was found and that they were small and ancient and ruled the east. They didn't see themselves as Cain's children, but Dr. Barrow thought all vampires came from Cain. Last, he discussed the west.

"It was leaderless, then the Anarchs took it over. Now the demons want it for themselves. It's quite the tense spot for the Anarch leader."

He waited to see if there were questions, unsure if this was the information Archie wanted. He nervously cleaned his glasses, and looked like he hadn't quite settled into himself. The last thing he remembered he was at the Academy. He hoped Jimmy hadn't made him look like a fool.

[sully]

Archie nodded along as Dr. Barrow explained the in's and out's of the city. As they walked along the streets he continued to pull out cigarette after cigarette, moving to a secondary, full cigarette holder when the first ran out. Dr. Barrow, with his knowledge of psychology, would have easily seen that this behavior, along with the sharp, distrusting glances Archie shot anyone and everyone who walked past them, that he felt incredibly uncomfortable in this new city. But overall, he looked sad. As if he had lost something integral to him and now he was trying to replace it, but with little success.

In between Dr. Barrow's lesson on the City, Archie shared how he found himself in this forgotten place. He explained how he had run an unofficial safe haven for Malkavains in New York, for those who were too unstable to be controlled by the Camarilla. Archie was routinely at odds with the primogens and Prince of New York, declaring him dangerous and a direct threat to the Masquerade by protecting these rule breakers. But the Malkavian primogen, another doctor like Barrow, would always stand up for him and stop the Camarilla before they shut down his haven. Until Missy that is. A girl so broken and lost that she had nearly given up on life before her sire found her. Archie had always loved spending time with her. She was like him and saw conspiracies in everything, except when it came to her own clan. They'd spent many nights trading theories back and forth. Archie even thought he might have loved her, although he'd never really been sure. Women had never been a romantic interest for him, only a sexual one. Regardless, he would have done anything for her. So he didn't hesitate for a moment when she appeared on his door step, covered in blood and begging for sanctuary. She had been harassed by a drunk man in the park and he had tried to force himself on her. In her fear and rage, she'd torn out his throat with his teeth. No one saw the act itself, but the sound of the man's dying screams had brought onlookers who saw Missy running away from the scene with blood dripping from her mouth. The Camarilla quickly responded and dragged Missy kicking and screaming from Archie's shop. He tried to fight them off, but the Sheriff quickly dispatched him, knocking him out. Archie woke up with the Malkvanian primogen standing over him with despair etched across his face. "I'm so sorry Archie, but... she's gone..." His protecting of Missy was the last straw. The Prince banished him from New York, leaving him with no home and nowhere to go. Only deriving from his instincts that he had to come to the City.

During the walk, Archie and Dr. Barrow passed a homeless man with a sign saying that Jesus was coming, the rapture was approaching, and all sinners must be ready to repent. The man was dirty and sickly, with small cuts and bruises covering his body. Only a single penny laid in the misshapen coffee cup sitting in front of him. At the sight, Archie's face went briefly heartbroken, before he ran over, frantically pulling his pockets out, searching for something. Finally, he found a five dollar note in his back pocket which he places in the man's coffee cup with a small sad, but friendly smile. He looks back sadly at Dr. Barrow. "People see us and they believe we are unworthy of kindness. They see us and say that our ability to see things differently makes us dangerous and unloveable. I want to change that... That's all I've ever wanted to do..." Archie's face became stoic as he stared directly into Barrow's eyes. "Please, help me find a way to make a name for myself in the city. So I can help make this city a safe place for our clan. So I can create a home for all of us."

[Black Philip]

Dr. Barrow agreed the clan was misjudged. However, he also thought they were dangerous. He knew he was dangerous when Jimmy was in control. His insights had ruined lives and so he couldn't get behind Archie's vision. He did think there could be a compromise, and thought about what it might look like as they walked. He liked the trait in Archie that cared for others, including his fellow Malkavains. It showed he was a good person, and Dr. Barrow needed more of that in his life. He gave the homeless man a fifty dollar bill. Dr. Barrow could be as charitable as Jimmy was selfish. When he heard about the Malkavian priomgen he scoffed.

"How is my sire doing," he asked, in reference to the old bastard living in New York. James hated his sire. He hated him for making him incurably insane. He hadn't explained the cost of the dark gift, and Dr. Barrow was still upset about it. He heard Archie's plea and sighed. He knew he was in a good position to help. Ben Samson was sympathetic to the Malkavian plight, his friend Digital was one example. He'd also hired Dr. Barrow and hadn't even really asked what his derangement was, at least not yet. It showed respect and tolerance. The Anarch prince was also known to employ children of the moon. This city might be a good place for the clan to have some roots. However, he feared one of them would ruin it for the rest of them. They needed control!

"Not that there's anything wrong with us," he started carefully. "But we do cause a lot of chaos and sometimes death, wherever we go. If we are to relocate here and invite others we need to help everyone learn to manage their peculiarities. The city needs to see us thriving, not covered in our vices, our instabilities, or frankly... our paranoia."

He let that sink in for a bit, letting his face look apologetic. "If you agree to help me keep everyone stable, I'll agree to help you build a home here for us."

[sully]

Archie flinched slightly as Dr. Barrow revealed his relationship with his previous primogen Dr. Grossdark. He remembered the good doctor mentioning a child of his who had felt betrayed by the man for not explaining the depths to which the clan’s blood would affect his mind. Grossdark had seemed incredibly regretful regarding this child and had off handedly mentioned how he had hoped one day they would be able to put the issue to rest. But Archie was smart enough to know that this wasn’t information he could share so soon after meeting Dr. Barrow so he simply said, “He’s fine. Trying his best to keep our brothers and sisters safe.”

When Dr. Barrow described his feelings about the nature of the Malkavian clan and what would need to do be done to ensure a safe home for both them and the other clans, Archie’s face hardened. He had heard this speech time and time again back in New York, even from Dr. Grossdark. That Malkavians was too unpredictable and unstable to exist without set rules and someone to control them. “Yes, but what about the other clans? Do they not also sow chaos and death wherever they take root? The Ventrue kill and scheme for more and more power, the Tremere use their perverted magics to solve their problems, and the Brujha wreck anywhere they go under the guise of rebellious freedom. It is only when it is our clan when they blame it on madness and claim we are too unstable as to be allowed to exist on our own.” As his monologue went on, Archie’s voice got louder and louder, although he was sure that no mortals could hear what was being said. But at it’s end, the wind left his sails and he plopped down on the stoop where they had stopped to have the conversation. Archie lit a cigarette and looked up at Dr. Barrow; “But you’re right. Regardless if they are right or not in their beliefs about our clan, they won’t allow us to create a Malkavian haven unless the leaders of the City can be convinced of their cooperation with the Masquerade. So then, how do you suggest we keep ourselves under control Dr. Barrow/Jimmy?”

[Black Philip]

Archie had a fair point. The other clans were fairly destructive in their own ways, and yet they were not subjected to the same rejections, bad talk and scapegoating as the Malkav's children. It made Barrow question his prejudice for a moment, his face becoming contemplative. His lip formed a tight little sneer, while his eyes looked up into the pale night sky. He finally lit a cigarette of his own, and blew smoke rings to amuse himself as he pondered. He hated his mental illness. He hated Jimmy, who seemed to manage to undue any good that Dr. Barrow tried to bestow on the world. Perhaps others didn't feel this way about their madness. Lear's fool, Digital, didn't seem to mind his disorganized mind, and Archie spoke with pride about his own condition. Being a psychologist had taught him that a person was their illness, and to better themselves that illness had to be removed. It had served him well in some ways, but he admitted only to himself that perhaps it hadn't in other ways.

He considered how best to answer Archie's questions, the vision always being easier to reach than the hard solution. He spoke slowly and carefully.

"I agree the other clans are not held to the same standard as us and that its not fair. The Ventrue and Bruajh warring at one another have killed more innocents than our conditions. However, in this game of jihad and conquer that the ancients play, our clan have been cast in a specific role. It will be hard to change people's minds. This city provides us an opportunity. It's mostly Catiff who don't know the old ways. Even the ancients here seem to have been spared that Camarilla's rod and lash. I think if we show we can contribute to the city, be good people and help others that we'll win their favor. There are three of us in town now. Perhaps others will come. We should also speak to this Digital. He's been in the city longer than both of us."

He handed Archie a cigarette of his own. "On me. It's hand rolled, so no Shadow order tampering." He smiled.

[sully]

Archie's face appeared vacant for a long while, although he accepted the cigarette once it was offered. After sometime, he gave Dr. Barrow a solemn nod. "You're right... It will be hard to change the minds of the other clans. And as you imply, maybe they would be correct in seeing us as they always have." He looked up at the grey sky with rain still falling in short, inconsistent droplets. "But we have to try Dr. Barrow/Jimmy. Not just for those of us alive, but for those still to come. And those who have died simply because their 'illness' was a good enough excuse to have them killed."

Archie stood, lighting the cigarette Dr. Barrow had handed him. "I need to get back to my shop. Need to make some kind of profit to make sure I can stay in this city." He met Dr. Barrow's eye, "Please contact Digital if you can. Anytime or place, I will be free to meet you two to discuss our idea further. Also..." Archie looked off awkwardly, seemingly a bit uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "I... I can't say I know your friend Jimmy as well as you do, but... he's a part of you. Trying to pretend otherwise will just cause you more pain. Accept that this "illness" is fully you, not something to be cut out with physical or psychological means. It took me a long time to realize that about myself. And..." He looked off again... "I hope it's changed me for the better. But who's to say. I can only keep moving forward. And hope for a better life for the children of the Moon who have yet to come."

Archie gave Dr. Barrow one last sad smile and reached out his hand to shake his.

[Black Philip]

Dr. Barrow squinted his eyes as Archie talking about his permanent brain cancer like it was a blessing. Jimmy was nothing but a plague, all his worst impulses. Dr. Barrow knew he was better than that, that he was better than Jimmy. Jimmy had no control. Dr. Barrow had perfect control. Jimmy hurt people, and Dr. Barrow proudly didn’t.

You just think you’re in control James, Jimmy whispered, cackling like a witch. We both know I run this show you little puff.

Dr. Barrow stuffed the filthy bastard deep down in his mind. His face went through all of these thoughts and emotions, and while James just thought he’d thought the thought, he’d actually uttered it out loud for Archie to hear. He blinked, and was seemingly fine after that moment, but in a much more cautious frame of mind, he regarded Archie differently. Maybe he was a threat. Maybe Jimmy knew him and had brought him here to cause trouble. Maybe paranoia was contagious. Whatever the reason, Dr. Barrow reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Archie instead of taking the offered shake.

“Come see me at my office at the Academy for supernaturals. We can discuss what’s to be done for the children of the moon. Enjoy your shop.”

Then, without another word he turned to leave. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and spirited back to the safety of his loft apartment.