An Evenings Adventure [Elizabeth Taylor]

Part 1
<S.T.> Finally returning to her home she approaches the door with an amount of trepidation. She knows that if her sisters are here they will be quite angry at her personal outing. She presses the side of her face upon the door and listens to see if she can detect any signs of their presence. She presses hard onto the door and holds her breath and hears no signs of someone’s presence within.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz takes a breath to steady herself as she slowly turns the door handle and closes her eyes to brace herself as she opens the door and steps through.
<S.T.> She opens the door silently, a slight murmur from its hinges is all that is heard. The inside is exactly as she remembers it, without any deviation. Even the sister’s door remains cracked and dark on the inside.
The house is quiet, and she is alone.
<Elizabeth Taylor> She lets out an audible sigh, “and I guess they will want me to clean up as well.” She heads to her room to appropriate a change of dress placing her dirtied clothes in her wash basket.
<S.T.> It is just passed 1am and she begins to move around the house organizing and straightening the items that have been moved into a disorderly fashion. She makes her way to the kitchen and notices a note scribbled in an aggressive cursive. Her sisters left a note scribbling it out before they left. In one word, expressed in large angry letters, it says “COFFEE!”
<Elizabeth Taylor> “Well I guess I need to let Bernard know I'm alright,” she starts muttering to herself excusing herself to see Bernard. “And I don't want them to get mad.” Liz makes sure everything is in order as she scoops her handbag up and prepares to face Bernard after that most uncomfortable event.
<S.T.> She gathers her provisions for the evening, makes her self some toast and begins to journey back outside, one more time this evening. She walks hastily towards the store front, and the closer she gets the more she begins to worry. As she approaches she notices that there is no light on the inside, and there is no welcoming glow of his store front.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz whispers "Bernard?" as she knocks on the door.
<S.T.> She raps upon the door and it is secure. She steps up onto her toes looking into the window to see what she can. There is nothing on the inside to see, just a simple store devoid of people and light.
She peers into the darkness looking for clues as to why the store is desolate. The store front seems quite in order, there have been some sales on the items behind the counter, and things were restocked. Other than this the store seems perfectly in order.
The store front for the Nemin Marcuss building that his small shop is attached to uses a double glass door that feels intimidating. The doors aren't locked, they have no locking mechanism, but its inner wooden doors are closed and locked securely creating a foyer for one to stand in.
This store is a high class department store that sells just about everything, and it possesses a high class feel to it that, if she were to force the issue, would force her to feel shame because of her simple, worker class standing.
She runs to the opposing side of the building, through the back alley rubble, and finds the back door to the building and pulls at it. With each pull it bounces back, as it is a door that isn’t typically opened. The old weathered wooden door remains stuck on its own frame.
Searching the compounds and the inside foyer of the department store she finds some elementary tools to aid her in jimmying the door to the best of her ability.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Attempting to remain calm she uses the equipment to jimmy the lock so she can find out what is going on.
<S.T.> She returns to the door with the gathered assortment of make shift tools, and uses them to pry the door lose from its frame, but the tools defy her order as they become a mess flying around in her hands. One makeshift tool flies across the palm of her hand cutting it deeply.
<Elizabeth Taylor> “AH!” Liz cries out and then raises her hand to suck on the wound.
<S.T.> She falls back landing on her posterior and licks the wound to ease the pain
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz starts to curl up as she licks her wound. "Why do I always fail, why am I never good enough to help." Liz stutters this out as she begins crying and attempting to clean up the tools.
<S.T.> The wound sets her back, mentally, as she gathers the tools and attempts the task again. The tools break in her hands and she find herrself confronted with the swelling emotions building up inside her.
<Elizabeth Taylor> As she finds herself being slowly swallowed into a pit of despair she decides she may as well go home and curl up on her bed. Where she feels she belongs.
<S.T.> She stands up and closes her eyes. Tears slowly begin to wet her cheek as she wonders about many things. The stress of the moment begins to overwhelm her but she remains in control. She sniffles slightly to herself and takes a deep breath of solitude.
As she does she feels a warmth from behind. A calloused hand finds her forearm and holds her wounded hand. Another hand strongly embraces her shoulder as a voice comes from behind, "your hurt?"
Bernard looks upon her with a solemn face and deposits his handkerchief in her wounded hand and proceeds to the jarred wooden door easily opening it.
<Elizabeth Taylor> “I-I-needed coffee,” she sobbingly states to him. Taking comfort that Bernard is all right she lets her emotions give out as she starts bawling and hugging him.
<S.T.> Once she embraces him in her arms he simply puts a hand on top of her head. "You ok?" he asks in a simple questioning concerned tone. The voice is slow and calm helping her feel more at ease.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I don't know what’s going on Bernard,” speaking into his apron. “Everything just keeps happening so fast."
<S.T.> He stands there framed by the back door looking down at her, "come on in, lets get you taken care of." and turns on a light illuminating the rear storage room of his store.
"Children of Malkev must take the world at their own pace. Malkev said that himself." He says drawing back from her. He keeps his eyes on her as she absorb the words thinking about exactly what he means, but he never averts his gaze.
"Let’s get you taken care of." He says motioning for her to come in.
<Elizabeth Taylor> she sniffles out, "C-c-cof-fee,” pausing while recanting her simple task set before her tonight, "Sisters wanted coffee."
"I was worried about you Bernard,” she continues, “why weren't you in the store!" Liz is almost in tears again but more in a childish manner as if scolding someone who should know that is just plain wrong.
<S.T.> Bernard goes inside and arranges some bandages and iodine. Returning, he prepares her hand and bandages up the wound. He listens to her but doesn't respond, he simply continues to work.
"There," he says. "What do your sisters need of coffee?" he turns his back and begins rummaging through the shelves.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz stamps her foot as she starts to grow redder "I don't know! I'm the only one who drinks it,” shaking the fogged sense of depression from her head, “but we always have it, that’s just the way things are."
<S.T.> "Then your mission today if for naught." He says solemnly, "For I have no coffee to sell."
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz almost having a panic attack at the thought of going home without coffee spurts out "What can I take to them instead? They want coffee,” she begins to sputter, “what can I get?"
<S.T.> Bernard grabs her by the shoulders and looks directly into her eyes. "You must remember my words. Your blood boils with passionate emotion but you must learn to tame it!" He says sternly, "can you remember my words, about the children of Malkev?"
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz closes her eyes as she recites his words from earlier "Children of Malkev must take the world at their own pace, but what does that have to do with me?" She says as she opens her eyes looking up at him.
<S.T.> He exhales standing back up releasing her shoulders. He turns away and rummages through a drawer returning with an old marine key strung to a large card, yellow and faded with scribbled messages across one side. He places the key in her good hand and says, "For now this is the only answer I can give you."
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz grasps the key firmly as she says, "B-b-but,” stammering with the words, coffee,"
<S.T.> "I know," he says with a slight bit of frustration. He takes a deep breath and regains his composure, "Have a little bit of faith. There is only one road you can walk at a time," He smiles at you, "trust me, please."
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Okay Bernard, thank you." As she thanks him she leaps onto him and kisses his cheek. "As cold as ever Bernard," she states as she prances out the door.
<S.T.> He follows her out, and says as she heads down the alley way, "try something for me," making her stop and turn back, "try a trick I am sure you will enjoy."
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz cocks her head quizzically.
<S.T.> He steps out of the door frame and closes the door behind him, "try giving those passionate swells to others. Just try it," as he locks the door and starts walking in the opposite direction.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz nods, turns and begins to hum as she almost skips the whole way home.
<S.T.> Getting closer to her home, the screams from inside pierce the night air while she is still on the street. She can hear the intense scream of anger, and the shrill voice of her sister’s rampage inside the house.
She climbs the staircases encountering brief moments of trepidation, the screams intensify and the yelling and tossing of kitchen equipment continue. Making it to her floor, she places her hand on the door handle. When she does she can feel an intense warmth upon it. The voices, angry voices, from the inside scare her as she feels their fury even from the outside.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Cautiously approaching the entrance Liz opens it, and prepares herself for a berating.
<S.T.> Gathering herself, she braves the berating that she must suffer upon meeting her sisters, and attempts to open the door only to find that it is locked. She pulls out her key, using it to open the door, it is still locked. The door is locked by the interior bolt for some reason leaving her out side.
She stands there listening to the arguing barely muffled by the walls, and then a click from the door, followed by silence.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz now attempts to open the door again, not knowing what she will find on the other side.
<S.T.> The door opens easily, without any resistance it lets her push it open as if it was possessed by an entity that wanted her to open it. It swings open and much to her surprise she finds no signs of a struggle, argument, or even her sisters.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I could have sworn they were in here just seconds ago," she mutters in wonderment.
<S.T.> She looks around for any sign that they were here and finds none, not even an out of place hair.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz feeling that her time has passed moves the common room to seek her bed.
<S.T.> She readies herself for her late mornings responsibilities and attempts to prepare (what will been known as) depression era coffee by recycling as many grounds as possible, hiding the bitterness with sugar. The coffee is warmed in the kettle, and set beside small china cups resting on saucers, her bed is readied, and after an hour her sisters arrive.
Their faceless bodies float into the room and sway from side to side, intoxicated from the nights activities as they sit at the dining room table talking to themselves without uttering a sound. Their body language tells everything about their conversation, and their stooper conveys their attitude.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Walking around them Liz twirls one foot on the ground as her sisters enter "Bernard didn't have any coffee,” she timidly states without hesitation, “so I made some from leftovers"
<S.T.> They pay her no mind and continue with their conversation without even looking her way. She prepares a cup each and checks them for consistency. Hopefully, their drunkenness will be enough to mask its age she hopes to herself.
With a cup placed in front of each of them, she continues to her bed. The house is quiet, and there is no further noise from them while they sit at the table and talk to each other.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "G'morning sisters" Liz whispers as she heads to bed knowing they will hear her if they want to.

Part 2
<S.T.> She lays there listening to them move around and eventually they disappear into their room closing the door behind them. With that, cackling laughter erupts from their mouths muffled by the walls.
Liz eventually falls asleep, thinking of Bernard, the key, and tomorrow.

The next morning Liz is woken by a voice in her head startling her eyes open. She lays there looking up at her sister’s faceless faces staring down at her. "Coffee" they say to her, in her head, with a stern and angry tone.
<S.T.> Small slits in their faces where their eyes should be open slightly letting out a ghastly light and a slight scream as she can feel the impending punishment from them if she were not to fulfill her task.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz starts fidgeting uncomfortable. "I t-t-told y-y-ou Bernard did-d-nt ha-ve any," she stutters at them underneath their intimidating stares.
<S.T.> Their eyes squint further and their faces burn with frustration, "COFFEE" they scream into her head once again. And with that they retreat to the door opening it and closing it forcefully behind them.
<Elizabeth Taylor> She swells with the feeling that she has no idea where to go from here. Lying in bed scared over her demanding sisters need for coffee. She remembers the key still clenched in her fist and proceeds to release it to read the tag.
<S.T.> She sits up in bed and looks down at the key, "Dock 12, Store room 32, New York Dock Company" it plainly states.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz, pulling herself up from bed quickly, arranges a new set of clothes and her purse, rushing out the door saying "Going to get coffee BYE!"
<S.T.> The words she departs with echo in the room as she closes the door behind her. The house remains empty now. Only the settling dust, the mattress, and two untouched cups of coffee remain.
She hurries to street level and begins to scour the streets for an open shop. She finds a single coffee house whose closing time was extended by a pair who decided that tonight would be a good cavorting night and that they would take advantage of the houses generosity.
She looks in and sees and a middle aged waitress stands behind a counter far away from the couple.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz wanders into the store with a blissful expression on her face thanking her good luck, wandering up to the counter she waits for service.
<S.T.> "Sorry, but we're closed," The waitress exasperatedly states. "Just waiting for the rest to clear out," she motions to the couple in the back talking silently to each other.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "B-b-but I only need coffee, my sisters will be so mad if I don't bring back any coffee" Liz gets an almost desperate look on her face as she considers what would befall her if she returned with no coffee in hand.
<S.T.> "Everyone’s sad story," she mutters to herself as she turns and heads to the counters storage cabinets. She returns with two bags of coffee, rings it up on the register, and says to her, "hope they won't be to mad now."
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz visibly recuperates as if she had just found out her mother was actually alive not dead of some ill disease. "Thank you sooo much,” she blurts out with a jubilant tone, “they just about killed me in bed earlier." Liz fumbles round and pulls out her wallet to pay the woman while actively trying to listen in on the other customers.
<S.T.> She pays her for the bags and take them into your chest, this should be enough to last the week without frustration she thinks to herself smiling at the waitress for her stoke of good luck.
The mutters from the opposite side of the room remind her of her sisters incessant whispering to each other. Their planning, their giggles, and in short, their happiness.
There are no discernable words coming from the opposite side of the room as their echoes drown out their own cooing.
The conversation is meaningless to her, almost saddening. As they talk to each other about the future, one another, and of many things that are, as of right now, no concern to her.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz, slightly saddened by their happiness, proceeds to place her coffee in her purse and to head off to the warehouse.
<S.T.> "G-night," the waitress displeasingly responds, "and you’re welcome," she mutters as she walks out the door.
The trip down the road towards the docks is a good walk. The sun sets deeper and the stars peek out from behind the clouds. A few hours pass and she reaches the building stating “New York Dock company 1917” a location of notoriety for most locals, as it display’s its name and date upon the corners of its exterior blue finish with a proud frequency disrupting the colored exterior.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz completely ecstatic after the brisk walk runs through the door on her way in to find a worker.
<S.T.> She opens the front door widely taken by the massive interior, with the structure to hold a ship out of the water, and perhaps more. Wild beams shoot from the floor into the walls as they angle inward creating a ceiling, spotted with little windows across the top.
“Dock 10”, a sign displays in large distinguished letters.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Hmmm I need dock 12,” she calls out, “HELLO!"
<S.T.> The structures large size gives no echo. The cry is swallowed by the stray boxes and stacked crates. Not even a scuffle in response to her query can be heard inside.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Well thats just rude," she says in a huff and proceeds to move through the docks to find number 12
<S.T.> She moves out of the entrance and down the length of the dock. Looking for signs on which way to go she sees a division between the large structure she started in and a long grey loft style storage building set facing the bay.
“Dock 11,” it says.
She continues on her way moving between the boxes and vast open areas walking down the warehouses breath. While traveling she can hear a large hollowed sound as if she were witnessing a large man breathing nearby. It must be something because she can hear it move about, if it were the warf it would be stationary she thinks to herself. However, the large spaces broken by stacked crates leave her wondering where it must come from.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz preparedly opens her purse enough to make its contents easily accessible and proceeds further checking to see if the sound follows her.
<S.T.> She continues on, listening through the entirety of dock 11, and finds her way to the entrance of dock 12, a noticeably smaller loft. She continues to the open maw of the docks entrance and can hear the presence of something following her, it moves the air as it scuttles around the loft, confusing her as she looks around trying to identify it.
Her back to the docks entrance, she peers into the night looking through the expansive workings of the New York Dock Companies structures, through the path where she started from to where she is now. She is only able to hear whatever it is move the winds behind her with a fury stepping on the stone floor, its breath coursing over her neck pushing her hair in front of her.
<Elizabeth Taylor> She attempts to grasp the thing behind her with her free hand, trying to make sure it is not ‘too’ dangerous.
<S.T.> A large grumbling voice with a hot inhuman breath speaks from behind her, "What does the child look for," it asks.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I'm here for dock 12 store room 32," she replies stiffened with fear. "I was told this is the only answer he could give me."
<S.T.> A massive hand reaches out and envelops her hand as it searches behind her seeking what is behind her. Its cold callous grip envelops her forearm.
<Elizabeth Taylor> She lets out an almost inaudible gasp as her arm is grabbed from behind.
<S.T.> "Careful when you dance with me, This place is mine to head," he states in his booming voice fro behind. She can feel it press its nose on the back of her head, breathing in deeply. "A kine in my home, coming in like an ungrateful gnome." it rhymes again pulling her upwards and off of her feet.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "K-kine? What are you talking about! What did Bernard send me into this time?!" Liz yells at the brute manhandling her.
<S.T.> It turns both her and itself swinging her around over a stack of crates placing her gently on top of them. "Introductions must be made, from the strange undead maid." The hand lets her go and the form steps back from the crates, its large footsteps can be heard echoing throughout the loft. She remains facing away from it, too stiff to turn easily her body fearfully refuses to turn her head either direction.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz after being placed down attempts to recover her composure and states "I am Elizabeth Taylor and I need to get this coffee home sometime tonight!"
<S.T.> "With your eyes, you must see. Face to face you must be," it continues with its breath noticeably further from her.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz deciding that she is being silly, will just turn around and look at the strange man.
<S.T.> She turns around in a stiff slow manner keeping her head perfectly centered on her body as her feet work her around inch by inch. As she turns, she sees a large canvas curtain like structure suspended by a large stone dowel that grows in girth and length as she makes her way around. The dowel suspended on whatever it is attached to moves rhythmically causing the drapery like structure to wave slightly with every massive breath it takes.
As she turns she can see that it is a wing, attached to a large massive body with skin of stone, with large arms holding onto one of the support structures. It is a massive horned creature with sparkling eyes breaking its matted stone like texture that is constant throughout its body. The face, barely human, its horns, more like a goats, stare at her moving slightly as it watches her turn around.
<Elizabeth Taylor> She gasps as she takes in this monstrous sight unsure of what to make of it. "What did this to you?" Liz asks with trepidation showing in her voice.
<S.T.> "I am Reich Blith," it proudly states as its tongue spills out to perform the act of pronouncing the words properly. The massive tongue is tan and wet, like a lizards spilling forth tickling the air. "And nothing did this to the creature you see before you. It is what it is." It settles itself moving from side to side on the pillar, "coffee must be a precious thing to brave the layer of a creature such as me"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "It is to my sisters, and I can assure you they can be much scarier." She watches him too wondering what he is to do with her.
<S.T.> "That creature before you is not scary, Like your sisters?" He rumbles as he retracts his large head behind the pillar. “The sisters must be, even scarier than thee!" and with that he rumbles out a laughter that shakes her to her bones
"This coffee, you must share it with the creature." He demands while looking at her from his position across the crate from her.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz visibly perks up at this offer. "Oh but we don't have a kettle."
<S.T.> It quizzically returns a glare, "what’s the kettle?"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Well um,” she thinks to herself, “its a little pot of sorts, that you heat water in and then put coffee beans in to make coffee!" She finishes the statement with a slight bit of anticipation hoping to actually serve something to someone who might appreciate the act.
<S.T.> It looks around the warehouse sniffing the air and hops down crawling along the floor sniffing boxes as it goes about, "Kettle for water, hot, burning THE DEMON, finding a bean make sprout WITH THE WINGS OF HELL!" It lets out smashing a crate sending splintered wood, hay, and its contents around the floor.
It finds a small pot to which it brings to her. A massive cast iron pot for stew is set before her large enough to brew both bags of coffee or a meal for a large family, but dwarfed in its massive hands.
It watches the pot settle before her and waits the nod of approval.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Good, good that is acceptable!” She says looking into it. “Now we need the water and a way to heat it."
<S.T.> It scoops the pot with such force it warps its form and climbs up the support pillar and through one of the upper port windows onto the roof. It can be heard walking across the metal structure, scampering to a location not to far away and then patiently making its way back to the window. Once it does, it drops down spreading its wings descending slowly onto the ground landing with enough force to feel its impact through the crates. The pot sloshes around spilling water about as it sets it at her feet.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz seeing that job now done removes the ground coffee from her purse and proceeds to pour it in. "And now we heat it," she simply states.
<S.T.> Intent on watching the curious nature of 'making coffee' it takes the pot and stares at it, "No man comes with torches tonight, it is quiet. Fire must be made by the hands to cleanse the impure," it mutters again. "The ways of the old blend with the Thaurmaturge, to make the ways of the new," and with that it retracts leaving a boiling pot of water. Its heat evident as steam and bubbles erupt from the cast iron deformed pot.

Part 3
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz grins as she waits for the water to boil and calm down, as she waits she asks, "So if you are Reich, what am I?"
<S.T.> "Elizabeth Taylor," it recites standing upright with the same clear and determined manner that she said it earlier.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz grin grows wider "Just making sure, and I think the coffee is done." She leans over the pot looking into the darkened water as the creature stretches upward trying to peek into it as well.
<S.T.> "Elizabeth Taylor must be a proud cannite with a name so loud it makes the beast take notice." it says in a lessened tone. It stares at her for a moment and then steps forward looking at the pot putting its face close enough to take in the odor directly. "The smell, I have sensed it before. In the mornings when the sun makes the one sit still, fearing, loathing, waiting.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Yes a lot of people like to drink coffee, usually to wake them up, but me and my sisters drink it because we like it."
<S.T.> "Drink, mead, goblets for the king, cups for the duke, hands washed and impure from the servants who wash the feet." He chants again. After that he heads to the pile of debris left from his earlier search and obtains to large steins and sets them besides the pot, "The moment has come, we must drink to those who have fallen," he says looking at her.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz takes the cups and fills them each with coffee and places one down for the creature. She raises her stein to prepare for a toast with Reich.
<S.T.> The excitement of the creature continues to be an intriguing sortie for her as she watches it take the stein into its mouth quickly. Its words don't match its manner as it swallows its contents in a quick set of gulping motions. "Warmth, soothing, like the mothers milk, taken from the goat each morning with a sprig of spearmint." It puts the stein down and reaches for the pot, "the delight of the warmth, the demon spirit must be cleansed by the fire, the spirit must awaken," it chants again taking the pot placing it to its lips and drinking hastily.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz follows suit and drinks her cup of coffee albeit slower than the beast.
<S.T.> With the last bit taken it coughs at the rough texture of the coffee grounds and chews them as it wasn’t expecting the bitter surprise at the bottom.. It stares into the pot and bends it with its hands searching its contents pulling out a pile of grounds taking them into its mouth enjoying it entirely.
It stops staring at the pot and lowers its brows in an angry demeanor, "them," he begins, "the guns the fire the torches," he says then throwing down the pot with a horrendous clamor as it bounces off of the floor. The impact leaves stone debris flying around and coffee grounds splattering along the crates below. "They come for the demon to smite it, the paladins of the new city, fallen, but not weakened."
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz is startled by this sudden change in demeanor. "What paladins? What’s wrong?" She begs as it retreats away from her.
<S.T.> "I sense them, they come alone, not with the Elizabeth," he sniffs the air, "they come this way, with the burning, they have the smell of the sin that taints the land," He looks up at her, "The fallen in this city," he says and darts between the crates and into the darkness.
She looks throughout the warehouse with piercing eyes seeing little, but hearing the scuffling of shoes and the whispers of voices talking to each other planning their advance.
From the distance, a flash of light dashes across the ground and over the crates, then it disappears. It comes back for a moment as they round the corner as some form of lantern in their hands illuminates the ground for a brief moment. The light is bright, but lasts for a moment as they advance.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz waits on top of the crate reverting to her demeanor seeming less threatening.
<S.T.> The group of people approach the crate. One of them spots the kettle smashed on the ground with coffee grounds smattered about. "Feels warm," one says. "Must be someone 'bout" another replies.
The wonder around flashing the light periodically at various spots when one stops and sniffs the air, "you smell that," he says, "yeah, I can smell it," another replies. "We have someone close," and they continue quietly along the edge of the crates.
<S.T.> They eventually wonder over to the smashed crate and kick the debris around looking about again hoping to catch their prey. "Fuck if it ain’t gone already," one spouts off, "If'n we ain't got nuttin to show for ourselves."
"Hell if our boss likes this mess, we best be findin somefin." With that they nod agreeing with each other and look about again trying to find something wandering back through the line of crates.
One of them stops and stares into the loft, his eyes changing shade as they seek through the darkness. "I'm 'ah check somefin ovah here!" he says. He begins moving slowly towards her location breathing deeply every now and then sniffing the air. He squints his eyes and pockets the flashlight and mounts a box with his hands clawing his way easily to the top.
<Elizabeth Taylor> As soon as he makes it to the top and stands up, Liz pops out right next to the searching man. "HI," she burst out.
<S.T.> With the jovial introduction the man is startled off of his feet and staggers backwards pulling out his gun from its holster tripping off of the edge of the crate plummeting down to the floor. He crashes letting off a single shot in the process as it ricochets in the distance. He lays there for a moment with a tense body as his friends come running back.
"Hay, mickey!" they call out as they arrive helping him up.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz hangs her legs over the edge of the crate as she looks down at the man.
<S.T.> He points up with his gun to the top of the crate as they reciprocate and see her sitting there, "where dis one pop up from?" one asks.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "HELLO,” she exclaims from above. “Have you all come to play with Boppy?"
<S.T.> "Ain't no way its her, fuckin pots bent like a tin can." one says flashing the light up at her.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "He loves visitors," she continues without interruption.
<S.T.> "Hay missy you ain’t a gargoyle is ya?" another asks.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I don't know? Am I," she wittingly responds to the group below. "What’s a gargoyle anyway?"
<S.T.> "Dis girls cheese done fell off her cracker," another retorts.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I know boppy likes to play here"
<S.T.> "I think she missed the bus," Another answers.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I made him coffee!"
<S.T.> "Boppy," they answer with an uncontrolled chuckle. "Loopy bitch for sure!"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "See he’s over there!" Liz says as she points to an empty spot at the centre of the room.
<S.T.> "She looks mortal enough, I can say for sure." they mutter between themselves as another asks, "'should drain the daffy lass 'n be done wif it!"
<S.T.> They look at each other contemplating on what to do to her as one says, "loopy bitch," causing the others to erupt in laughter that lasts for a few moments. Right after it stops the regain their composure and all of them look up at her.
"Fuckin malk," on mutters, "Shit," another says in response.
"Ay, miss," One yells up, "Fancy you answer me a simple question seeing as how my friend 'as fallen on account of you!"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Why sure sir what may you ask of this here, ‘loopy bitch’,” she sarcastically replies at them.
<S.T.> "I wondah," he says after a brief moment of contemplation, "might you be folowin’ those Camerilla gents, or do you fancy yourself a member of dah Black Hand?"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Dah who and dah what?"
<S.T.> They laugh again, "she aint got nuthin, or no one,"
"Caitiff prolly,"
"Best be that we end ol batsy ere." They look at each other and nod, "sorry miss, but you don't mind if we put you out of your misery, aay?"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I think my sisters might disagree with that." Her demeanor changes from light hearted to ice cold trying to mimic her sister’s way of speech of treating her.
<S.T.> "Oi, you don't suppose, she did do all this," One asks.
"Perhaps you should ask her how old she is."
"I aint like’n this too much," one says as he backs away, "Dis one might be a little more dan we can handle," he says obviously intimidated by the callous nature of her sisters demeanor.
<S.T.> "I tell ya whot," one begins, "perhaps you tell us where 'boppy' went off tah and we will call it even between us. You know, scratch my back and I scratch yours."
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz grinning wickedly "Boppy is right there like I said" points at the empty space in the middle of the room. "Now if you don't mind my sisters and I don't like to be kept waiting on our drinks, and right now they are craving some hot coffee." She licks her lips at the mention of coffee eyeing them in a playful manner.
<S.T.> "I get it," The negotiator says in response as he motions at the one called Mickey to get up, while the one already scared of the situation starts shaking and supports himself on the crate with his eyes permanently affixed on her.
"Come on, it’s best we be headin’ out," he says and they begin to drag Mickey off hastily. The one scared already won't let his eyes off of her as the rest scoot away, and once they are far enough he scampers off after them. She smirks to herself in triumph as they can be heard leaving the premises with a hasty retreat.
<S.T.> The creature remains a silent observer if he is still around. She remains stuck on top of the crate with her legs dangling off wondering how she is going to get down by herself. Things are settled now and nothing happens with much surprise on top of the crates as they afford her the best view.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz taking the time to think the previous events over, remembers that the man had claw-like grips to help him climb, sadly if they are even still here they are on the ground.
<S.T.> The 'claws' that were used to help the other climb up are no where to be seen, the crate itself remains tall enough to fit her inside of it without height concerns, stacked three high. His climbing left scars in the crate leaving sharp dangerous splintered edges making it a treacherous task. She moves to the opposite side and eye's the staggered pattern that the crates are left in, in the hopes to use the slight ledges as a platform to get down.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz, getting sick of this crate, attempts to climb down.
<S.T.> One foot after the other, she dangles them down looking for the ledge. She reaches further pushing herself down and down leaving her dangling by the tips of her fingers until they give way, and she plummets with the same fate as the man she scared off earlier.
Her foot looking for a stable platform causes her body to pivot onto its back crashing into a group of smaller stacked barrels that break her fall by crashing to the ground in a noisy crescendo.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "ow," she painfully mutters to herself. Picking herself up she rubs her posterior as she attempts to locate crate 32.
<S.T.> She maneuvers around the barrels pushing them aside to gain a good footing looking up at the crates she just fell from, stacked three high it was quite the fall.
She wanders through the crates looking for the famed crate listed on the key she held with her. Her vision blurs and she becomes very disoriented which causes her to become unfortunately lost. She remains in the dock warehouse area, but she has no clue where she has wandered too.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Getting a little worried about being lost decides to call out for Reich. "Reich? Are you still here?" Liz says in a hushed tone in case anymore unwanted individuals are lurking around.
<S.T.> Trying to re-establish her self as to where she might be, she stops and looks around again. She finds herself in a part of the warehouse she isn't familiar with, assuming she has gone forward, she continues to look for Crate 32 and finds a rather large metal crate that is chained and sealed with the number 32 painted on each side.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I doubt this was worth all the trouble," she snidely mutters as she attempts to unlock the crate.
<S.T.> The key fits in easily enough and when it is turned, the lock resists it refusing to allow the key to open it.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Great I can't even use a key properly," Liz says sarcastically as she tries to make sure she is still in dock 12.
<S.T.> With a couple of forceful attempts the lock simply won't budge. She takes a moment to look around and is only greeted by the over encumbered foot steps of the coffee drinking gargoyle who holds two large barrels in his arms. He sees her and approaches, stopping at her side placing each of the barrels down next to her.

Part 4
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Hello Reich, where have you been?"
<S.T.> He breaths in, "Round yonder castle, hiding in the night, it lurks, stalks, and it sees us all." he moves one of the barrels closer. "It finds our treasures, and keeps it for itself, sharing with no one, the demons are greedy." The rounded barrel is stamped with the words 'Columbia Coffee Company'.
He looks at the large metal crate she stands in front of with the key firmly in its front lock. "What does the child want with the metal box," he asks pawing it while looking it over.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "I was told that there were answers for me in the box, but the key won't open it. C-could you open it for me," she pleads in a childish tone.
<S.T.> The beast crawls over the metal box climbing it easily sniffing its corners and crevasses, examining it closely. On top of the metal box he simply pushes the chains to the side and they fall to the ground broken without effort. Once there he pushes his head inside the box and looks within. "The box has no answers, the box belongs to someone else," he mutters from the inside as his voice echoes outward.
He looks over the top at her, "The stench of the technomancer, the breath of the talents of the elves," he warns. "Dwarves forge these machines, the finest of copper and tin!"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Dwarves and elves are things I have only heard of in myth,” she answers him, “but I guess you are no less mystical than either."
<S.T.> "The box will give you no peace, it has no answers for him." He finishes and pulls off the side of the metal box lifting it over his head and tossing it to one side. Inside the box it absorbs any remaining light of the warehouse at night, a dark mist surrounds whatever lies inside. Peering deeply she see nothing at first, then a slight greenish glow from glass tubes filled with liquids pressed together from top to bottom by brass workings and machinery.
The glow remains slight, just enough to push through the darkness as it reaches from the box onto the floor. The dark mist scares the creature and he jumps away flapping his wings to gain height to ascend a nearby pillar.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "What is it? It's kind of pretty" Liz says as she takes a step forward.
<S.T.> As she approaches a sudden hiss of steam pushes from the top and wheels, gears, and connecting arms become a whir of motion stirring up the black mist exposing its machinery.
A brass figurine watching her approach with large inhuman eyes, metal body, and an unsettling toothy grin cranks a leaver pushing the machinery faster and faster. A series of sparks erupts from the machine and lightning arch’s from an ornate set of arching arms that pop out startling Liz. The machine roars of electricity, steam, and wind as Reich roars a lion’s roar in the distance leaping down from the pole he stood upon.
The lightning strikes forth from these delicate arms engulfing her body in a blue blaze. It courses through her body causing convulsions from every muscle. The experience is painful and her body involuntarily yells out in response. The experience is over quickly as the world pops and in that moment becomes black, no light, no sound, only the cold stagnant air of an unfamiliar place.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "W-what WAS that," she says to herself holding her arms close to her body shuttering and disoriented from the experience.
<S.T.> She feels the uneven natural ground beneath her feet with small pebbles poking through the souls of her shoes. She is obviously no longer in the warehouse and the ground she stands on is dirt, but has no life to it. Her heart responds to the nervousness and she can feel it pound inside her, something about this place is unnatural and disturbing. The blindness remains ever present as all she can do is listen to her surroundings.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Alice is down the rabbit hole and I'm in there with her," she cries to herself. Although quite disorientated realizes she isn't going to fix this problem sitting on her butt. She reaches one arm out and feels her face with the other.
<S.T.> Liz stands up and concentrates on her surroundings recalling her teachings and attempts to gain a feel for the area. The room is pitch black and is awful quiet. Only her movement creates sounds as they echo through the black expanse.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Hello," she cautiously calls out as she attempts to feel her way around.
<S.T.> She reaches her hands out, calls out and listens to the echo from behind and realizes that a wall is close by walking towards it. Moving cautiously forward she finds a cold metallic structure complete with gears, levers, and what seems to be glass cylinders possibly filled with a liquid strikingly similar to the structure she stood before when it started.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz, not liking this whole ‘darkness’ thing decides to call out for Reich again, if he does not respond she decides to stick close to the machine. "Reich," she manages out creating an audible echo throughout the cavern.
<S.T.> The calling out does little other than to understand her orientation within the dark expanse. However, after a few moments of listening she begins to hear two groups of footsteps approaching her location. She picks up her dress and leans over trying to use her eyes to see as best as she can, "hello!" she cries out again as she feels cold hands grab her arms lifting her off the ground, again.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Seeing no other option tries not to struggle hoping it’s Reich lifting her.
<S.T.> She is carried away from the machine and deeper into the cavern as light begins to fill the area. She can see the edges of the cave as it is highlighted by dim lights that point directly towards the walls of a cave. Behind her she can see the black expanding mist cover the machine she stood by. Her captors are steely mechanized people, identical to the one pumping the lever on the machine she encountered earlier.
Each one has a long hollowed arm and a mechanized hand grasping her firmly. From underneath she can see their painted smiles across their large heads as they carry her forward.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Where are we going," she asks as she tilts her head to the captor on her right.
<S.T.> They do not respond and instead bring her through a caverns opening and into a larger structure filled with similar creatures tending to machines of various types scattered throughout the area. The room is massive, with massive industrial components throughout, and in the middle sits a large brass tube with a window placed on the upper portion. The tube is large and bolted closed in a pattern that surrounds one side reminding her of a bulkhead of an iron-clad ship.
She is set down in front of the tube and she can hear the humming and whirring of mechanical devices and a rhythmic pounding of steel on steel as it grows in intensity. The hum rises and falls in intensity too and the structure begins to animate ever so slowly rotating counter clock wise behind the metallic tube.
The humanoid machines step away in harmless poses on either side. The tube has an etched inscription on its brass surface in an enigmatic phrase. She reads it and understands it code deciphering it easily, "Bernard, once you arrive please wake me. Hopefully upon your arrival things will be prepared." Following this is a simple set of instructions on how to operate the tube with the levers and panels sitting nearby, behind one of the humanoid machines.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Getting a little ticked off at Bernard for dragging her into this decides she may as well activate ‘it’.
<S.T.> She walks behind the mechanized human and operates the levers and buttons in order as they are assigned on the coded inscription. It was an easy task and she completes it quickly. Once she does the tube lets off an enormous amount of steam fogging up the entire area leaving her unable to see while the machine completes the task.
She hunches over and grasps the humanoids arm to remain steady as the steam fills the area. Once it dissipates enough she can see a male form wearing a white overcoat crawling out of the tube one step at a time slowly bringing its body out. In the midst of the steam Liz can clearly see its dark facial hair and dark tinted round glasses covering his face as he breaths in and coughs uncontrollably.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Hello..." Liz says shyly.
<S.T.> He waves his hands in front of his face and turns to walk between the humanoids pushing the smoke around with his hands breathing in to speak but only able to muster a coughing fit as soon as he does sending him to the ground as he gasps for air between fits.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz lets out a gasp as she sees him fall to the ground in his fit. She then proceeds to lean down and help the man making sure he is okay.
<S.T.> He continues to cough, and when she approaches him she grasps his shoulders in a comforting manner in an attempt to help. He notices her looking at her and pointing towards the console where she awoke him from.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz moves to the panel and takes a quick glance at the console to see what the man is pointing at.
<S.T.> She reads its faded inscriptions noting various labeled controls and activating sequences in what seems a logical order, the controls to vent the accumulated steam. As she does a series of fans kick on and a hum erupts from the ceiling starting up a breeze that pulls the steam up and out of the cavern.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Such amazing machinery," she says to herself.
<S.T.> The man props himself up again and coughs less and less regaining his composure. As the steam clears he walks over to her and looks down upon her through his dark tinted glasses, "You’re not Bernard," he says in a very stern tone.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Well I'd hope not,” she replies in a near sarcastic tone at the obvious differences between them. “And what else was I supposed to do? I have no idea how to get out of here."
<S.T.> The moment brings him to cough again, clearing his throat afterwards turning to face her. "It should be obvious," he starts as he clears his throat and turns to the cavern she was pulled from pointing down it, "the way you came in!"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Well since I was brought here without knowing till I was already here, I believe your point is invalid." She says with a dubious tone striking at his lack of formal etiquette.
<S.T.> With that he walks away and starts heading up a flight of stairs to another level.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Still curious about these machines she decides to follow the strange man.
<S.T.> "Not a very good student then if you 'stumbled' upon this area. No one should be able to get here without the proper keys!" he says while examining various instruments.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Well I was given a key, but it didn't open the lock,” She continues in her matter of fact tone. “So I just had Reich open it for me!" She says grinning from ear to ear.
<S.T.> "Reich," He pauses looking around for a moment rummaging through his memory, "no, don't know him." As he continues to walk further down the catwalk he continues his interrogation, "How could an apprentice gain access here, awaken me and not understand how to use a key." Most of the conversation was with himself but he turns to her and asks, "Is Reich your master? Who do you apprentice under, what is your school, how adept are you in your sphere?"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Reich is not my master, he is a gargoyle like the things that live on roves,” she says motioning with her hands signaling a roof and a creature standing upon it. “I am not an apprentice of anyone,” and pauses for a moment, “that I know of, and I have no idea what spheres have to do with anything.” She stops in front of him looking at his stoic pose. “All I know is Bernard told me to open a shipping crate.” She stops looking around for a moment going over the conversation, “Oh and I went to the University of England!”
<S.T.> "Shipping crate," He says pausing again, then turning continuing his task along the catwalk adjusting various valves and continuing looking at the readouts of various dials. "University of England, nice place."
He walks along a bit more before exclaiming, "NO Spheres!" Stopping in his tracks and turning around abruptly, "how could you get here and not understand the fundamentals?" He looks at her with a glare, wondering about the truth she speaks. "What does Bernard do with you?"
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Bernard doesn't do much really,” she says retracting from his glaer, “I just buy coffee from him, sometimes he looks after me when my sisters aren't home." She feels very uncomfortable under his glare and acts sheepishly turning away from him as he looks upon her.
<S.T.> "I see," He steps closer to her leaning over to look at her closely, "and what do you do?"

Part 5
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Usually just cook and clean,” she begins drawing away from him, “go through my nightly routine. The past couple of nights have been very exciting, I've met all sorts of strange people going on about strange things. Like what’s a technomancer? Or the ‘black hand’ or ‘camarilla gents’?” She asks opening her eyes wide to him hoping he might know something, “Its all been very confusing."
<S.T.> "Huh," he says stepping back, "you must have some form of clairvoyance, or a natural affinity, perhaps," he says turning around to continue his rounds, "perhaps you are a savant." He nods at this statement, "a savant would explain much."
<Elizabeth Taylor> "So why were you in that machine?" Liz asks trying to strike up a conversation she might understand.
<S.T.> "Trying to culminate an association between the ultimate flow of information with the proponents of the final point of the tenth dimension." He says without missing a beat. "Perhaps it wasn't the best way to perform the experiment but to lock down the flow of information through time I find myself constantly trumped by entropy."
<Elizabeth Taylor> "Well at least that sounds scientific. Better than Reichs ‘I am what I am.’" She mimics with a stiffness in an attempt to imitate the large creates sound with her small frame.
<S.T.> "Reich sounds like a member of the Old Faith." he says walking up another flight of stairs.
<Elizabeth Taylor> "He did speak as if he was from another time,” she says looking at the structre from the height of the catwalks. “He didn't even know what coffee was."
<S.T.> "Then it makes sense.” He nods in approval again. “You have some interesting friends," he grabs a large lever and pulls it towards his body and steps to another gear and inserts a metallic object into it and starts turning it like a wheel. "You," he motions ahead of him, "pull that lever when I tell you to!"
<Elizabeth Taylor> She prepares herself to do as he says. Continuing with idle chitchat "You seem to know a lot more than I do,” She begins placing her hands on the lever grasping it as tight as she can. “So who is Malkav?"
<S.T.> "They say" He starts as he becomes slightly winded from turning the wheel with such force, "that Malkev is an Antidiluviant, one that will bring the end of days." He looks to you, "now, the lever!" As she reciprocates a plume of steam erupts from the pipes as he runs past to another lever. "Come on now!" he yells at her motioning for her to follow. "The valve, turn it," he demands while staring at a dial holding onto a lever as large as his form.
<Elizabeth Taylor> Liz still following orders knows that the word ‘Antidiluviant’ really doesn't help her "So if he is an "Antidiluviant" what is a child of Malkev?"
<S.T.> As she moves to the large valve, she turns it and it breaks from its foundation erupting with steam pushing her back into the catwalks railing. She hits the railing with a great deal of force pushing the air out of her lungs. The steam makes it hard to breath and the impact from the crates and the electrical shock caused a great deal of trauma to her body forcing her to lose consciousness.