[Sodium_noir] Listen to the Night

[eugene mcfadden]

>Titus, Mercia
>Lasombra, Tzimisce
>Pack haven

OOC: sorry this is late, back to work and boy is it tiring.  Other news, 
have a new computer and needed to transfer everything across to something 
that is actualy stable and not ridden with impossible to remvoe viruses.

>Titus shrugged, ' This a trick question? Duty's... duty's the shit you owe.
>Duty to the Sabbat, Duty to the Pack, Duty to others.  Honour... Honour's
>the base that Duty sits on, Honour is what's in you and what's personal to
>you. Your Honour might make you feel Duty, but Duty can't make you feel
>Honour.  Honour's who you are.  Honour's your self respect, and if you 
>ain't
>got self respect, you ain't got nothing.'
>
>"For a man of few words you are highly eloquant in your own way templer!" 
>Mercia spoke with no hint of praise or mirth, simpy a statement of his 
>opinion. "Honour is indeed the base of duty and of action. When Honour 
>guides your unlife the opinion of others matters not one bit. When a Tyrant 
>walks with honour he knows he acts for the best!"
>
>"How would it be Titus Khan, if I set you a test? If I told you go and do 
>this thing for me to prove you are your own master? Very little is the 
>answer. But I can help you find tests for yourself! Ways to light the path 
>you must walk alone. The first of these we must concentrate on is mastery 
>of your Beast! Let it be shown that it will not tempt you to do what you 
>feel is dishnourable. I will go now my brother and leave you to think on 
>your least noble desires. Meditate on the things that you despise about 
>yourself and let the beast smell the chinks in your soul. I would not ask 
>you to share these things with me yet, I am not your priest or your 
>confessor. But when you have explored them for a little time perhaps you 
>will join me on the roof so we can excise them with some simple martial 
>exercises!"
>
>He bowed at the hips again, an action from another age. And then he left 
>the room. Titus heard him bark orders to his fellow Knights from the 
>landing.
>
>"Everyone on the roof now. I have a task for you!"


Titus stood as the Samurai left.

Titus sat.

Ttius stood again.

Titus moved around, sat, stood, flexed, thought.

Eventually, creaking, he went down on one knee and then, with force, placed 
his ruined leg into a better position.  A kneeling position.

Meditation; Moksun, it had been a while since he'd done this... years, ever 
since he'd had to give up the martial arts.

Damn knee.

And that was one of the things he hated most: his ruined, broken, battered 
leg.  Some damn stupid war.  Pain every day, possibilities cut off... He 
could still be in the army now, he could have had a career... a life... 
something.  Would'nt have ended up a bouncer, wouldn't have ended up with 
some fool for a sire... wouldn't have ended up Titus Khan.

Woudl have been... normal.

Human.

And that was the crux of it: when it came down to it, really came down to 
it, he didn't like himself too much.  And there was the chink; the flaw: 
there was the Beast's purchase.  That was where his depression came from, 
that weight he carried around.  But behind that, behind the godawful 
blackhole of sadness sat something else: the Rage.  The thing that drove 
him, that got him up in the morning, that had him break his sire, that gave 
him the strength to kill Akrill, that gave him the strength to just keep 
moving, day after day after day.

Anger is something to be feared?  Bollocks, Anger was what gave him 
strength.  Anger leads to the darkside?  Fuck yeah! If it got him up in the 
morning, it was worth it: rocket juice for the soul.

Titus smiled; and what the fuck did Yoda know, damn little scrotum.  Anger 
wasn't something to be feared, what did those happy clappy Jedi ever do?  
Fuck all.  Darth vader though, he fucked them all with his anger, that's 
what anger could do.

And where did the anger come from?

Watching his parents get gunned the fuck down.  Kind of thing like that was 
bound to scar a kid, put a mark on him.

And he knew his mark: anger.  Deep down driving, burning fury.

Fury so bad it needed to be balanced out by something.  And that was the 
depression.  You couldn't keep going on that rocket fuel emotion for as long 
as he had without coming down every so often...

Titus shook his head, stood up.  Enough deep thinking for today.  Now, now 
he was going to kick some arse.

He headed up the stairs.

TAG