Nothing is True. Everything is Connected.
Tag: <span>Sylum Advent: 2016</span>

Sylum Advent 2016: Reaction Post

 

And this concludes Sylum Advent for 2016!

What an adventure!  I have to admit this one was a rough one, but as always we pulled it off.

For those who want to leave a quick message or just are still catching up – drop a comment here on this post to let the Author’s know you liked their stories.  We don’t get paid for this, so it’s nice to know when the story is appreciated.

 

Post Advent Sylum Teaser

 


So I couldn’t go the whole Advent without some Teaser of what’s to come!!

This particular scene is set in the next big Arc, which is still in the beginning stages of development.   I’m not going to explain exactly what’s going on, just let you enjoy the moment.

To fully get the impact of the scene, listen to this before, after or during.

This scene is a gift to Timothy Quinn – my partner in all of this.  Enjoy!


He was going to kill Nico for this.

It was his crazy idea in the first place.

Take a stand for the common man!

By running through the streets of London, dressed like a madman, wearing long black coats, Guy Fawkes mask, black wig, and a Capotain hat, or something similar from the 16th Century.

On the one side Driver Cloaks.  Hey, at least they formed to the body, which prevented the material from snagging on a chimney, fire escapes, or any other protruding items on a rooftop, but did the great Nico think about weapons – NO!

To stay anonymous everyone had to keep their weapons on the inside of their coats.

Problem, if they needed their weapons their coat had to be open, and when the coat was open, it became a cape.  Capes have a tendency to get caught on chimneys, fire escapes, or any other protruding items on a rooftop, which is a potential disaster when one is running across said rooftops being chased by the military.

And he won’t even mention the inability to see out of the damn mask.

But hey at least everyone looks the same, and can be anonymous.

John didn’t point out the 6’4″ guy standing next to the 5’4″ girl.

At least Evy was damn good at blending, despite her stature.  She’d been doing it for centuries alongside Jake, her brother.  He never knew how the two pulled it off, but they could easily be interchangeable while on a Hunt.

At the moment all of this was irrelevant, if he survived this, he was going to kill Nico.

Or let Harold do it.

Better yet, let The Machine empty his bank accounts!

***

It had been a simple patrol.  Check the abandoned areas of the warehouse district to check for citizens that were running from the Police.  It was fairly quiet, which should’ve been his first clue that the night was going to go straight to hell.

With The Machine in his ear, he located a small child who was hiding in a rat infested shithole.  He cursed at the society that allowed for this to happen.  He then bit back the anger at the government who thrived on it.  Not able to take off the mask to assure the young child, he motioned for him to come closer.

The boy reached out and laid his small hand in John’s large gloved ones.  He scooped up the boy, and headed for one of the safe houses.  He would drop the boy off with the underground, and let them get him out of the city.

Exiting the warehouse, he was blinded by headlights, even with the mask he found himself squinting as he held a hand over his eyes.

‘Three vehicles.’

‘Eighteen soldiers.’

‘Armed with military grade weapons.’

The kid pushed against his chest, jumping down before kicking him in the shin than ran towards the cops.   Once he was behind the larger burley one with a thick mustache, he yelled derogatory names that no ten-year-old should know.

He rarely resorted to hurting children, but if he saw the kid again, it was getting dunked into the Thames, after a good backhand to his smart mouth.

He lifted his arms, in the universal gesture for surrender.

‘Three.’

‘Two.’

‘One.

The whole area went dark, including the vehicle headlights.

John turned on his heel and was up the side of the warehouse before the explosion of bullets riddle the front of the building.  He ran full tilt for the edge, jumping onto the roof of next warehouse.

He smiled when he heard them cursing as the vehicles wouldn’t start.

They began to track him on foot.

‘Left.’

He turned, stumbled over the decaying roof, and with a silent curse launched over the large alleyway onto the next structure.

‘Third Warehouse.’ 

‘Skylight.’

He was moving on instincts, listening to the mechanical directions in his ear.  He had learned to trust it, over the past decades of saving Numbers.

The last jump was pushing the distance for any Assassin, but he closed his eyes, said a Hail Mary, and took the leap of faith.  He felt the skylight give, as he crashed through the glass onto the warehouse floor, landing with one knee bent, and hand resting of the dusty floor.

‘Two vehicles.’

‘Twenty-two soldiers.’

‘Armed with military grade weapons.’

Great they had back-up.

‘News media.’

John tapped the earpiece, hopefully it was enough to signal The Machine, that he wanted to know what was being said.  It was the only way he could communicate, the hard fast rule for any of them was not to speak.  It was how they stayed Anonymous.

And that was the key for Nico’s plan to work.

The Government News Network was broadcasting live.

‘The Armed Forces have the terrorist trapped, these hard working men have gone beyond the call of duty to keep us safe, by chasing down this criminal, putting their lives on the line.’

John rolled his eyes, snorting softly.

‘We bring to you live, the capture of this ruthless terrorist who has killed hundreds of our people, destroyed our heritage.  But we will not succumb to fear, we will fight.’

This time he snorted loudly.

Hundreds was pushing it, maybe less than ten, though he would admit there were at least a good dozen or so that would need knee replacement surgery.  And he wasn’t the one who destroyed the Tower of London.

He pulled his two weapons, each loaded with 16 bullet clips.  Thankful Harold had confiscated Croft’s automatic reload and designed a set for him, giving John an additional four clips.  It was decent ammo for a small shootout, but not one for this many enemy soldiers.  He would have to be precise in his shooting.

‘Tracking.’

Over the last decades, he had gotten used to the mechanical voice, the Machine would use when they had needed information instantly and didn’t have time to read a text, or Jarvis to translate.

John had developed a system with it.  The Machine knew how he moved, how he fought, and would set the parameters to fit his style.

‘Lights shut down in …’

‘Three.’

‘Two.’

‘One.’

As the warehouse went dark, he felt a sense of calmness surround him.  He sent assurance down the Bond to Harold, then took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and trusted The Machine to be his eyes and ears.

‘Four man team, entering warehouse.’

‘Spread at 10, 12, 1 and 3 o’clock.’

He raised his weapons, and without hesitation, began firing.

‘Move to your left, 3 spaces.’

‘1 dead, 2 wounded.’

’11 and 10 o’clock.’

He eased to his left, shifting slightly to take out the next targets.  He heard the grunts and clatter of weapons to the ground.

‘3 dead, 1 wounded.’

‘Second – Four man team entering warehouse.’

‘Burst of fire from 9 to 1 o’clock, while moving four spaces to your right.’

John felt the metal shelving on his shoulder, forcing him turn to his left until his back braced against it.  He dropped the clips and grabbed the next set.  He eased down the shelving, using it as a shield, ignoring the bullets as they pinged off the metal.

‘Step out.  Turn around. 9 and 3 o’clock.’

A calm breath, before he stepped out, turned and fired off four shots

‘6 dead. 2 wounded.’

‘Three man team, entering warehouse.’

They were trying to wear him down, while making themselves less of a target.  John was pretty sure, the government was starting to get horrified at the fact their soldiers were dying, or they were using it as a rating ploy, at this moment anything was possible.

He wondered if they were even televising anymore.

He chuckled.

Of course they were, The Machine would make sure of it.

‘Four steps forward.’

‘Burst fire directly in front of you.’

He heard bodies hitting the ground, yells coming from outside.  The unit was starting to crack around the edges.  They didn’t know how to handle the situation. They were losing control fast.

‘Drop.’

John went down, just as a hail of bullets went over his head.

‘Stand.  Shoot.  Run 6 feet to your left.’

He sighed in relief, when his back hit a concrete wall.  He couldn’t tell the layout of the warehouse, but it had a distinct smell of tobacco and alcohol.  It wasn’t a modern building, at least a hundred or more years old, likely filled with crap left behind decades ago.

He dropped the clips from his weapons, and slammed in the last set.

’12 dead. 2 Wounded.  There are two, four man teams waiting.’

John let his hearing adjust to the warehouse, listened carefully to the sounds the soldiers were making, and with a smirk he stepped out from behind the concrete wall, fired four shots.

’14 dead.’

‘Showoff.’

John chuckled, he still had some of his own skills.

‘Three man team coming into the warehouse.’

‘Two man team coming in from the back.’

‘Potential crossfire.’

With him in the middle.

John ducked down as a hail of bullets slammed into the concrete wall.  He ran along it until the the end, pulling his weapons and fired in the direction the barrage was coming from.

‘1 dead.  1 wounded.’

‘Stay down, move ten paces forward.  Fire at 8 and 5 o’clock.’

Seriously!  If he could send a death glare towards a working camera he would.  He was pretty damn flexible, but that was going to be tough shot.  Maybe on a good day, he would hit both targets, but today wasn’t a good day.

With a dark chuckle, he stood and followed the directions exactly, placing his arms at 8 and 5, and fired off the rest of his ammo.  Time felt as if it slowed down, as he felt bullets fly by him.  He slid and ducked behind a set of wooden pillars, they were taller than him, and from the smell and feel they were at one point in time rail ties.  He dumped the empty clips, putting the guns back into the holster.

’17 Dead.’

‘Two steps to your left.  Use barrier to cover approach.  Enemy is 6ft, side exposed.’

He slid down the dagger from the holster inside his forearm.  What he wouldn’t have given to have his hidden blade, but again that was too noticeable.  He slumped down lowering his face to make sure the white of the mask wasn’t seen in the pitch blackness.  He could hear the soldier’s heartbeat it was beating fast and hard.  Using his Assassin instincts he reached out with his left hand to cover his mouth as his right slammed the dagger below the Kevlar, straight into the soldier’s liver.  He pulled him behind the pillars and dumped the body, taking any and all of his weapons.

‘Warning! On your left.’

Without hesitation he threw the dagger at an upwards angle, followed by four bullets from the confiscated pistol.

’19 Dead.’

‘Weapons out of ammo.’

Wait. What?  John pulled the clip of the automatic weapon and felt along the top, the chamber was empty.  He tossed it, and grabbed the secondary handgun, only to find the same.

They wasted their ammo, trying to hit him instead of aiming for him.  Stupid move that left them defenseless, and now he was totally unarmed, and there were at least three more.  He needed back up, and he wasn’t sure if any was coming.

‘Three man team moving in.’

He was a sitting duck where he was located.  They could easily move around each side of the barrier and catch him in a deadly crossfire.

‘Option: Jedi.’

John froze for a split second in shock, but then he really shouldn’t have been surprised, The Machine had put a name to it.  It had watched him for decades, and knew what John was capable of and wait he would do to protect Harold.

Though it was wrong on one aspect.

Not a Jedi.

He stepped away from the pilings, turned around and faced the oncoming threat.  He took a deep breath, centered himself.  He felt the anger rise with in him, at the inability to stop the government from destroying the country.  From the horrors of what he had seen done to the citizens.  From the deaths he couldn’t stop.

And pushed out.

The pile of wood exploded outward, taking out one of the soldiers.  The other two dove away from the falling timber, pulling up their weapons.

‘Incoming.’

He lifted his hands palms out, feeling the pressure against his body as the sheer power of the bullets slammed against the barrier.  He closed his fists and threw his hands down, sending them harmless to the ground.

He lifted his left, hand gripping tightly.  He heard the soldier drop his weapon, gasping for air, without thought he tossed him towards his comrade slamming both of them into the wall.

‘All clear.’

‘Admin needs you.’

John felt the power flow threw him, he knew if anyone was to see him now, his eyes would be glowing yellow, with a hint of silver.  His hands flexed at his side, as he tried to get it back under control.  The Machine helped him navigate out of the building, and as he stepped outside, he was faced with a single reporter and cameraman.  Both looked terrified and in awe at the same time.

“Who are you?”  She yelled out to him.

He held out his hand and with two fingers, their symbol.

V

And with a sadistic smirk, that no one could see, he flung both arms out, clenched his fists then pulled downwards.  The warehouse groaned then collapsed, nothing was left but a pile of rubble.

The reporter startled, jumping backwards.

John ran across the open area, and then shimmied up the opposite warehouse, he took the offered hand and let his fellow vigilantes pull him up.  He didn’t need to see his face, to know it was Nico, who held his hand tightly.  With a quick nod, he pushed past them and headed for their safe house.

He needed to get to Harold.

***

In a galaxy far far away …

Obi-Wan Kenobi argued with the Council, to allow him to travel to Earth.  Master Nico was in danger, and he was needed there, not standing arguing the finer points of Jedi involvement in ‘undeveloped’ worlds.

Yoda had tuned out most of the argument, knowing full well that Kenobi, now a Jedi Master himself, would follow his heart and go to Nico.  And if he didn’t, his chosen lover, Master Qui-Gon Jinn, the more rebellious of the two, would drag Obi-Wan to Earth just to annoy the Council, despite his own personal feelings towards Nico.

The sudden shock wave through the Force hit him straight on.  His small body rocked backwards in his seat, causing Master Windu to focus on the older Jedi.  His ears folded back, as he shifted through his own memories, trying to place the familiarity of what he had just felt.

His eyes snapped open.

That was a presence he hadn’t felt in years gone.

“Finished discussion it is.  Master Kenobi and Jinn take me to Earth they shall.”  He eased off his seat and made for the door.  “Leave now we must.”

The green troll ignored the incredulous stares from the council, the suspicious ones from the two Jedi Masters, and the all-knowing smirk from Windu.

Padawan he had to find.

 

 

 

Sylum Advent 2016: January 1st

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taibhrigh_banner-cs-butterfly

Title: The Butterfly

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: 2007 AD

Artist: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive

Sylum Advent 2016: December 31st

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taibhrigh_banner-cs-johnpreston

Title: John Preston

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: 1945 AD

Artist: Taibhrigh

John Preston leaned against the wall, eyes closed, as the sounds of silence surrounded him. It was finally over. The horrid, disgusting, heart wrenching war was over. There were moments he wasn’t sure he would survive it, and part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to.

The things he saw.

The things he did.

There were times he could barely look himself in the mirror.

But he knew.

Deep down he knew that what he did, saved lives. Not everyone. And sometimes not enough.

“How are you doing?”

He opened his eyes to see Rhys standing in front of him. The normally perfect uniform coat was hanging open, the hat was nowhere to be seen, and the silver glint that was permanently in the spy’s eyes was duller.

“Feels like I can breathe for the first time in years.” He snorted, as his hand moved to the top button of the uniform and practically ripped it off. A part of him, enjoyed … that wasn’t the word he wanted. The control the uniform forced on him, touched a part of him. That part that needed to stay in control, or become like his father. The other part, the man who hated innocent lives destroyed despised what the uniform met. “I’ll be happy to burn this thing.”

“I’ll toss mine in with yours.” Rhys smirked. “Troops will be in the city by dawn. The safe house is still secured, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Last thing we need is to be shot for war crimes, in a war we fought against.” Preston dropped the hat, ripped off the red arm band, and tossed it along with the long black coat onto the floor.

They made it to the safe house, getting rid of the rest of the dread uniform, and slipping into worn torn clothes to make it look as if they were simple civilians just trying to survive hell.

In essence they were.

Preston wouldn’t have made it through the years, if it wasn’t for Rhys. They had taken to calling each other by their last names, considering they were both blessed with John as a first.   It helped maintain their cover, as their names were code for when one of them needed help.

The fact the two worked so closely by the end was a miracles, as Preston had barely survived his first meeting with Rhys.

He had infiltrated the Schutzstaffell (SS), moving up the ranks until he was working in Berlin. Everything about the job disgusted him, but his stoic control, and barely shown emotions made him the perfect SS Officer.

When he was introduced to Rhys, Preston knew he was a Vampire, but neither of them acknowledge the other. He wasn’t sure if he would even see the high ranking officer again, when he settled down for the night, he found himself fighting for his life.

To this day he still wasn’t sure how Rhys did it, he had him pinned to the wall, an invisible hand squeezing his throat. Preston saw a flash of yellow in his eyes, as he demanded to know who Frederick was working for.

Preston chocked out he wasn’t Frederick, barely getting out the code word that had been established with the Frye twins to prove he wasn’t his father.

Rhys dropped him, giving him a once over. “You’re his son.”

“Unfortunately.”

“I would apologize, but in this world…” He waved his hand around, not really showing any indication he was sorry.

“Safe is better than sorry.” Preston rubbed his throat as he nodded, he completely understood, especially considering he had seen Commodus in a meeting with Himmler. “Gabriel mentioned there was someone deeper, I’m guessing that’s you.”

“If you need anything from me or help, ask for Rhys. It’s not the name I’m going here, but will get my attention.”

“Preston.” He held out his hand, Rhys took it with ease.

They watched in silence as the safe house burned, the fire wouldn’t be noticed nor its destruction. It would’ve brought more attention if it was still standing, considering most of the city was in ruins. With the cover of night, they made for the edge of the city, furthest from the approaching Americans.

“Now what?” Preston asked, even if he wasn’t sure why he did.

“I’m going home to Harold.” Rhys gave him a sideways look. “Then lay low for a few decades.”

“I need to meet his Mate of yours.” He gave him a rare smile. “He’s a good man to handle you.”

“He’s too good for me.”

A soft smile appeared on his face, the one Preston knew was the one when he was thinking about his Mate. He wondered what it would be like to have a Mate, would it be warm, inviting, like he saw with Rhys. The other Vampire rarely talked about his Harold, but when he did all Preston could see or feel from Rhys was his undying devotion to him.

As dawn rose, they could hear the trucks, tanks and soldiers moving into the city. They hurried further along, not wanting to get caught up in the aftermath.

“John.” They both turned to the speaker, guns out. The speaker chuckled when he realized they had both reacted to the same name. “We got transport out of here.”

They followed their rescuer through a secluded forest, until they came upon a clearing with a few trucks, marked US Army. “Should I ask how you got them?” Rhys smirked over at fellow spy, Ethan Hunt.

“Wilhelm is really good at stealing things.” Ethan gave him a grin, before climbing into the back and helping the two up.

“What are you doing in the back?” Preston asked, dropping his bag before sliding down onto the seat, exhausted.

“It would seem a family member decided to try to assassinate Hitler, Hamlet got him out, but we didn’t think it would be a good idea if I were to wander around Berlin for too long.” Ethan pulled the flaps down over the back, then moved to the front hitting cab with his open palm. The engines roared to life, and soon they were moving.

“Claus vos Stauffenberg.” Rhys shook his head. “His plan was good, solid, too bad it didn’t work.”

“Well he’s safe at the Council at the moment, once things settled we’ll figure out where to put him.” Ethan glanced over at Rhys. “Transport is set up to get you from Geneva to Rome.”

He nodded, settling down for the long trip. “Wake me when we get there.”

Preston turned his attention to Ethan. “Tell me about this Stauffenberg…”

Sylum Advent 2016: December 30th

 

Title: Pedro of Aragon

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: 2008 AD

Artist: Taibhrigh

Locksley found Pedro in the stables brushing down one of his favorite horses.  He watched for a few moments, as he leaned against the door.  He knew his friend was irritated and pissed off.  When word had reached Integridad about Don Jon’s latest criminal act, Robin knew Pedro would take it personal.

“You keep looking at my ass that way, Azeem is going to do damage.”  Pedro threw a grin over his shoulder at the Clan’s Co-Leader. “Though I can understand, I do have a nice ass.”

Robin chuckled as he stepped inside.  “Considering Azeem was reaming…”

He held up a hand.  “I’m stopping you right there.  I don’t want details, hell I don’t want vague innuendos.”

“How’s he doing?”  Robin petted the Chestnut Andalusian, one from Maximus’ stock.

“Better.”  He ran a hand down his flank, easing over the small wound.  “Few more days of rest, should be good.”

“Want to talk about it?”  Robin glanced over to the older Vampire.  Pedro had been friends with Azeem way before he showed up in Spain.  He had taken Robin under his wing, helped him settled into a country that on most occasions hated him.

“I should’ve Dusted the bastard centuries ago, but a part of me always hoped he would find his way home.” Pedro sighed, moving out of the stall and locking it behind him.  “He’s got the soul of my brother, and he’s abused that fact.”

“You are not responsible for what Jon does.”  Robin pointed out as they made their way back up to the house.  “He’s his own Vampire, and knows full well what he’s doing.”

“And this is the first time in all these years, that he’s Turned someone Without Consent.”  Pedro turned towards the Englishman.  “Never in all this time, and it’s the Chief of Staff to the President of the United States.”

“He went big…”  Robin smirked at the glare he was being given.  “You might not have to worry about him, considering Maximus wants his ass, and Nico has added him to his shit list.”

He sighed, coming to a stop at one of the small gardens.  It was one of Azeem’s favorite places to pray, many times he would find him during evening prayers.  It was peaceful, and though he had stopped following his own faith, Pedro would sit quietly in garden and release the stress of the day.

Sitting on one of the benches, he leaned forward elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands.  “He shouldn’t be their problem.”

“You want to Hunt?”  Robin settled next to him.  “I’m sure Benedict would freak his ever loving shit over the idea, but would join in.”

“I’m Azeem’s War Counsel, I’m perfectly capable of conducting a Hunt!”  He snarled at Robin.

“Then why don’t you?”

“Are you encouraging me to Hunt the son of a bitch down?”  Pedro stood and stared down at him in shock.  “Hunt my own brother?”

“Yes.”  Robin held his gaze easily.  “If anything you should go talk to this Leo, and find out if Jon said anything that would give us any indication of why after all these years, he was suddenly having Children.”

Pedro took a calming breath, and nodded.  “I might just do that.”

***

He couldn’t say the meeting with Leo went well, but at least he learned a few things about Jon’s motivation.  Mainly, that there wasn’t one.  Frankenstein needed President Bartlet distracted, and he created one.

After a few weeks, Leo warmed up to Pedro.  By the time he left Washington, the two actually could maybe considered friends, or at least have the start of a relationship.  Pedro made sure he knew to contact him at any time.

In the months after the Leo’s Turning, Pedro had taken a trip out to see Maximus at his horse ranch, to discuss Jon and what could be done about finding the bastard.  Pedro had Turned him, and held some responsibility in dealing with the Rogue.

It had been hard to actually call him that, and he was disgusted with himself that it had taken this long to actually call Jon what he was, a Rogue.

Benedict had confronted him about his Hunting, the two had a stare down over wine and cheese.  The Head of Security rolled his eyes, poured himself a glass, stole some cheese, and then demanded to know what Pedro had discovered, plans he had made, and if there was any word on the pansy ass bastard.

Pedro laughed openly.

His Clan may be small, and pain the asses, but they were family.

After a year, Jon upped and disappeared.  There was not even a hint of information about him.  Manuel informed him, that rumors stated that Frankenstein had not been happy on the raid on Raccoon City, and blamed Jon’s lack of security.  From sources the Caretaker refused to name, stated Jon was on the shitlist, and was working with Larry Sizemore, to what end no one had any clue.

Until.

“Pedro.”

He looked up from brushing down his horse, to see Azeem leaning up against the wall.  This was not good.  He gave the horse a few more strokes, and tossed the brush into the pail, grabbing a towel to wipe his hands, before stepping out of the stall.

“What’s happened?”  He asked, getting straight to the point.

“Jon just Turned someone.”  The Clan Leader motioned for them to walk.  “He’s an American, named Michael Westen, lives in Miami.  Sources state he used to work for the CIA.”

“Jon’s recruiting?”  It was the only thing that made sense.

“If so he failed.”  Azeem stopped and faced him.  “I talked to Nico briefly, the only thing he was able to explain, was that the Turning was tied to Larry Sizemore, who’s obsessed with Westen.”

“Do I need to go to Miami?”  He asked.

“Not now.”  He put a hand on his friends shoulder.  “I know this is the best lead you’ve had in over a year, but the CIA is sniffing around and it would seem that Westen has a lot of Vampires around him, including Shadow.”

“I kinda want to meet this guy now,” Pedro smirked.  “Now what?”

“I’ll make sure you get the info, and when things settle, I hear Miami is nice in the spring.”  Azeem gave him a smile, then a pat on the shoulder.  “In the meantime, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

He motioned for his Clan Leader to continue.

“There’s been mumblings through the Clan since That Night, that there are spies within our mists.”  He looked around, then focused back on Pedro.  “I’ve had Robin vetting everyone in the Clan, and that meant you also.”

“I’m not insulted, I would’ve done the same.”  Pedro smirked.

“More like you already have.”

“That too.  Benedict and I worked through the Clan and started looking at others.”  He admitted carefully.

“Good, then what I’m going to ask of you isn’t shocking.”  Azeem took a deep breath, centering himself, which mean it was going to be bad.  “Alexander contacted me, there are too many Rumors about Rogues hiding in Russia, especially after Richelieu re-appeared.”

“You want me to check in with some old friends?”

“Contact Creasy, it’s time he comes home.”

Sylum Advent 2016: December 29th

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taibhrigh_banner-cs-carlcox

 

Title: Carl Cox

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: Future Storyline

Artist: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive

 

Sylum Advent 2016: December 28th

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taibhrigh_banner-cs-doriangrey

 

Title: Dorian Grey

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: After Evolution

Artist: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive

Sylum Advent 2016: December 27th

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taibhrigh_banner-cs-matthewfarrell

 

Title: Matthew Farrell

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: 2014 AD

Artist: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive

Sylum Advent 2016: December 26th

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Title: Thomas Jefferson

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: December 26, 2031 AD

Artist: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive

Sylum Advent 2016: December 25th

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Title: Watchdog

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRAO

Summary: There’s this Machine …

Author’s Note: This story is set up for a few new characters, also brings into line some of the new canon.

Sylum Timeline: Set in 2010 – After ‘The Death of Michael Westen’ and ‘No One Else Can Help’

Artist: Tabhrigh

Link to Archive

Sylum Advent 2016: December 23rd


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Title: Napoleon Solo

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Added Note: After hearing the death of Robert Vaughn, I had to pick Napoleon for one of the Character Stories in tribute to him.

Sylum Timeline: 1985 AD

Artist: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive

Sylum Advent 2016: December 22nd

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Title: Jane Rizzoli

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: 2010 AD

Artist: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive

Sylum Advent 2016: December 21st

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Title: Christine Benoit

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: Mid 1990’s

Artist: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive