FIC sniplet
Sep. 17th, 2005 10:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartWhat you can read below is a short sniplet from Part 1 of my new vampire series titled The Anarch Chronicles. The entire chapter and its sequels will be posted to my website, and perhaps to the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hiddenrealms community as well, as they are practically original stories, with a few names of the White Wolf RPG names and a handful of background characters (courtesy of the noble and generous Aislynn Crowdaughter)added.
Anyway, this was the character I needed Richard Yniguez' picture for. Enjoy!
Daughter of the Night
by Soledad
A “Pathways in the Dark” story
Part 01/B of “The Anarch Chronicles”.
Disclaimer: All canon characters belong to White Wolf and Mark Rein-Hagen. Alonzo Solace and the nuns belong to me.
Rating: ADULTS ONLY
Warning: violence and sex between vampires - with everything that it means
Archiving: my website
Buenos Aires, 1936
The tall, dark-haired man moved through the nightly life of Buenos Aires like a shadow. He could never understand why a city as crowded and smelly like this was called Buenos Aires, meaning ‘good air’, to begin with. Maybe the meek wishes of its inhabitants had played a role in the name-giving. Twentieth-century canalisation might have helped a bit to make the city somewhat better suited for living in it, but Salvador Garcia remembered the plagues raging all over the cities like this back in his native Spain a hundred or so years ago.
Not that any human illnesses could have harmed him – he was dead already. Had been for almost half a century, in fact. Well, not entirely dead, of course, since he still walked the pathways of the Dark, but not alive either. Undead was the word he and his kindred used to describe their existence.
Salvador Garcia was a vampire.
And not just any vampire. He was one of the leaders of the Anarch Revolt, a charismatic rebel, one of those strong-willed, independent Brujah who refused both the rigid feudal system of the Camarilla and the obscure rituals of the Sabbat. The Anarch wanted to lead their unlives as they pleased. Including duels to the Final Death and diablerie, if necessary.
Salvador himself had brought the hatred against any oppressive authority and the insatiable hunger for freedom over from his Warm days into the Night. Even among the Anarch, few were as dedicated to the case as he was.
Born in nineteenth-century Spain into a close-knit family of bitterly poor farmers in Andalusia, he’d learned the injustice of the monarchy first hand, and at a very young age. This had led him to the Mano Negra, the mortal Anarch movement of his homeland, where he’d met Ferdinand, his future Sire. He’d fought against the aristocratia and their servants, the policia, for years, until he got caught and literally beaten to the death. He was saved by Ferdinand in the very last moment – unfortunately, it was already too late for his beloved young brother, Pablo.
Losing the person who’d been closest to him – not to mention who’d been barely grown into adulthood – had motivated Salvador to continue the fight even harder, even more dedicated… both among the Kindred against the oppressive Princes of the Camarilla and supporting their mortal brethren against the oppressive state.
The later aspect was what had led him to Argentina. As it turned out, his Sire was, in truth, Don Fernando Almadóvar, the last member of a wealthy noble family, who used his considerable wealth to support the Anarch movement among mortal and Kindred. He’d repeatedly sent Salvador to the overseas to help organising insurrections among the poor farmers, especially the Indios who had practically no rights in their own lands.
Salvador had been chosen for this task because he came from similar origins, and even his looks were ones that the Indios would find comfortingly familiar. He had a broad face, slightly long, dark hair and wide, dark eyes; and he was heavily built, used to hard physical labour and vicious fights. He’d even made the effort to learn the dialect the poor were speaking. But the most important thing was that he could understand the problems of the poor and oppressed, could identify with them – and had great experience with guerrilla warfare.
Thus he had been successful in everything he’d been supposed to do and still had almost a week to his disposal in Buenos Aires, to gather information, make contacts – and to wait for his compadre, Alonzo Solace, who was currently in South California, to prepare a new haven in Los Angeles for those Anarch who wanted to leave Europe for a free, less oppressive country.
Alonzo was the polar opposite of Salvador’s in every possible aspect. The bastard son of an ancient, noble family, never accepted by his father and on his own since the age of thirteen, he’d lived on the streets of Barcelona as a child assassin and a thief, never caught, hated and admired at the same time by the others of his trade. He’d got Embraced by some unknown Brujah, never learning who actually his Sire had been and of which generation. Although an especially powerful vampire, he was practically a Caitiff, and his only chance to be accepted at all lay by the Anarch.
Ferdinand, Salvador’s Sire had taken the young vampire under his wings somewhen back at the late eighteenth century. Alonzo proved to be very useful for the Anarch movement: as an assassin, a deadly street fighter, and, in the most recent times, as a reckless driver and a skilled pilot. Besides, he was so beautiful that he could seduce males and females with minimal effort when it served his purposes – and had absolutely no problems with using his considerable charms to reach his agenda. But he was also fiercely loyal to Ferdinand, the only one who’d ever cared for him, and this unconditional loyalty had brought him close to Salvador, who paid his Sire the same respect.
They had been allies, friends and lovers (on and off and by no means exclusively) for half a century by now. Salvador, who‘d been raised with the strict moral restrictions of a poor, conservative Spanish family, found the newly-won bisexual nature of the Kindred extremely liberating, and he didn’t hesitate to taste all the pleasures that came with his undead status. But he was also very careful with selecting his lovers, as letting the wrong person close could have been very dangerous, both for him personally and the case. With Alonzo, he didn’t need to worry. They were of the same mind, and they knew each other, soul-deep. Alonzo’s presence in his unlife had made it easier for Salvador to deal with the untimely death of his mortal brother.
However, until the arrival of Alonzo he still had two more days, and he was now strolling through Buenos Aires, looking for a meal and for some distraction, not necessarily in that order. He would pick up a prostitute or pick up a fight, it didn’t really matter. He just needed something, anything to put his mind off his dark memories.
As I said, this is just the first third of the chapter. I'll announce it when it's posted in its entirety.
Edit:
Picture of Richard Yniguez aka Salvador Garcia, courtesy of Cirdan:
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y235/cirdan_havens/misc/Richard-Yniguez.jpg
hiddenrealms community as well, as they are practically original stories, with a few names of the White Wolf RPG names and a handful of background characters (courtesy of the noble and generous Aislynn Crowdaughter)added.Anyway, this was the character I needed Richard Yniguez' picture for. Enjoy!
Daughter of the Night
by Soledad
A “Pathways in the Dark” story
Part 01/B of “The Anarch Chronicles”.
Disclaimer: All canon characters belong to White Wolf and Mark Rein-Hagen. Alonzo Solace and the nuns belong to me.
Rating: ADULTS ONLY
Warning: violence and sex between vampires - with everything that it means
Archiving: my website
Buenos Aires, 1936
The tall, dark-haired man moved through the nightly life of Buenos Aires like a shadow. He could never understand why a city as crowded and smelly like this was called Buenos Aires, meaning ‘good air’, to begin with. Maybe the meek wishes of its inhabitants had played a role in the name-giving. Twentieth-century canalisation might have helped a bit to make the city somewhat better suited for living in it, but Salvador Garcia remembered the plagues raging all over the cities like this back in his native Spain a hundred or so years ago.
Not that any human illnesses could have harmed him – he was dead already. Had been for almost half a century, in fact. Well, not entirely dead, of course, since he still walked the pathways of the Dark, but not alive either. Undead was the word he and his kindred used to describe their existence.
Salvador Garcia was a vampire.
And not just any vampire. He was one of the leaders of the Anarch Revolt, a charismatic rebel, one of those strong-willed, independent Brujah who refused both the rigid feudal system of the Camarilla and the obscure rituals of the Sabbat. The Anarch wanted to lead their unlives as they pleased. Including duels to the Final Death and diablerie, if necessary.
Salvador himself had brought the hatred against any oppressive authority and the insatiable hunger for freedom over from his Warm days into the Night. Even among the Anarch, few were as dedicated to the case as he was.
Born in nineteenth-century Spain into a close-knit family of bitterly poor farmers in Andalusia, he’d learned the injustice of the monarchy first hand, and at a very young age. This had led him to the Mano Negra, the mortal Anarch movement of his homeland, where he’d met Ferdinand, his future Sire. He’d fought against the aristocratia and their servants, the policia, for years, until he got caught and literally beaten to the death. He was saved by Ferdinand in the very last moment – unfortunately, it was already too late for his beloved young brother, Pablo.
Losing the person who’d been closest to him – not to mention who’d been barely grown into adulthood – had motivated Salvador to continue the fight even harder, even more dedicated… both among the Kindred against the oppressive Princes of the Camarilla and supporting their mortal brethren against the oppressive state.
The later aspect was what had led him to Argentina. As it turned out, his Sire was, in truth, Don Fernando Almadóvar, the last member of a wealthy noble family, who used his considerable wealth to support the Anarch movement among mortal and Kindred. He’d repeatedly sent Salvador to the overseas to help organising insurrections among the poor farmers, especially the Indios who had practically no rights in their own lands.
Salvador had been chosen for this task because he came from similar origins, and even his looks were ones that the Indios would find comfortingly familiar. He had a broad face, slightly long, dark hair and wide, dark eyes; and he was heavily built, used to hard physical labour and vicious fights. He’d even made the effort to learn the dialect the poor were speaking. But the most important thing was that he could understand the problems of the poor and oppressed, could identify with them – and had great experience with guerrilla warfare.
Thus he had been successful in everything he’d been supposed to do and still had almost a week to his disposal in Buenos Aires, to gather information, make contacts – and to wait for his compadre, Alonzo Solace, who was currently in South California, to prepare a new haven in Los Angeles for those Anarch who wanted to leave Europe for a free, less oppressive country.
Alonzo was the polar opposite of Salvador’s in every possible aspect. The bastard son of an ancient, noble family, never accepted by his father and on his own since the age of thirteen, he’d lived on the streets of Barcelona as a child assassin and a thief, never caught, hated and admired at the same time by the others of his trade. He’d got Embraced by some unknown Brujah, never learning who actually his Sire had been and of which generation. Although an especially powerful vampire, he was practically a Caitiff, and his only chance to be accepted at all lay by the Anarch.
Ferdinand, Salvador’s Sire had taken the young vampire under his wings somewhen back at the late eighteenth century. Alonzo proved to be very useful for the Anarch movement: as an assassin, a deadly street fighter, and, in the most recent times, as a reckless driver and a skilled pilot. Besides, he was so beautiful that he could seduce males and females with minimal effort when it served his purposes – and had absolutely no problems with using his considerable charms to reach his agenda. But he was also fiercely loyal to Ferdinand, the only one who’d ever cared for him, and this unconditional loyalty had brought him close to Salvador, who paid his Sire the same respect.
They had been allies, friends and lovers (on and off and by no means exclusively) for half a century by now. Salvador, who‘d been raised with the strict moral restrictions of a poor, conservative Spanish family, found the newly-won bisexual nature of the Kindred extremely liberating, and he didn’t hesitate to taste all the pleasures that came with his undead status. But he was also very careful with selecting his lovers, as letting the wrong person close could have been very dangerous, both for him personally and the case. With Alonzo, he didn’t need to worry. They were of the same mind, and they knew each other, soul-deep. Alonzo’s presence in his unlife had made it easier for Salvador to deal with the untimely death of his mortal brother.
However, until the arrival of Alonzo he still had two more days, and he was now strolling through Buenos Aires, looking for a meal and for some distraction, not necessarily in that order. He would pick up a prostitute or pick up a fight, it didn’t really matter. He just needed something, anything to put his mind off his dark memories.
As I said, this is just the first third of the chapter. I'll announce it when it's posted in its entirety.
Edit:
Picture of Richard Yniguez aka Salvador Garcia, courtesy of Cirdan:
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y235/cirdan_havens/misc/Richard-Yniguez.jpg
