"A Lesson for All Kindred"

That Sabbat dog ran into a low grade, but still flashy nightclub. “The Lunar...” I muttered as I read the blinding neon. He knew if I risked making a scene in this place, the Camarilla council would question my actions... The last thing I needed would be the entire Jyhad crumbling because of my foolishness... Cockiness was one personality trait I lacked when I was human, and also in my eternal damnation. The Traditions had to be maintained!

I made a casual slink toward the entrance, therefore putting me in a situation that required holstering my aged Asian revolver. I could see that the bouncer was either dead or unconscious. Time was slipping; I needed to act soon. Squeezing threw the moshing crowd loaded with rainbow hair, silver/black leather, and other shocking colour explosion cosmetics. The music of this current era throbbed, loud, repetitive and fast paced. The flashing florescent colours scathed my vision; popular culture seemed to be ever changing in this age.

If it lived my heart would be pounding ever so fast, I would fell heavy tension and sweat would drench me - thus setting as a violent mood.

My eagle eyes were ever vigilant. It was taxing to spot out the barbaric renegade in this smeared atmosphere. Suddenly something catches my attention. In a blink I had focused on the movement. It was the perpetrator. He shoved his way uneasily threw the mass gathering. I knew he was unaware that I had latched onto him. I stealthy withdrew my Mateba, but only slightly.

I spied as the sly but dirty enemy entered the male restroom. Obviously wanting to escape into the metropolis night via a window. I pursued him at an increased speed; I felt the clock wasn't on my side.

I didn't know what would happen when I entered this door, but I crossed the threshold anyway. I had been wrong, he hadn't fled. Instead appeared to be eager for a fight.

“Finally you have arrived, now which sect is superior? Hm? Strike me Camarilla delusive!” The voice was coarse and unforgiving. With my quick reflexes I fired. BANG, BANG, BANG! The shots dead on, buried into his decayed flesh.
“That all? My turn!” He leaped at me, forcing my head to the linoleum.
“Hmph!” I snickered. WOOSH! I had used my telekinesis discipline, propelling him into the air. I drew a wooden stake from my overcoat and unclenched my hold on the fool's body.
“AHHH!” he yelped as the stake impaled his rotted heart.

I dragged myself to my feet and piled out the window into the darkness...

Moral: Never oppose the Camarilla and the Tradition. Especially the Masquerade.