"van Fokke," Pockets said. "The latest in a long line of increasingly important Tremere assholes to take over ownership of this project. Top tier of the pyramid. Older than Hasan's sire. Not by much. Keisinger administrates the city and infrastructure, but everything related to the Fugue is Tremere."

“Have they taken up residence in the Chantry? Or is that still Miss’s dominion?” Liam asked.

"Pff, they're too good for the chantry," Pockets said. "He's in the penthouse of the Alhambra Casino. Keisinger's on the next floor down. This gives you a bit of a picture of the kinda guy he is."

They were leaving the campus, and headed for the Iron Graveyard. There was a time when this was a guarded border. But they just drove on through in Camarilla disguise.

Liam raised a brow in surprise as they passed over the threshold that used to demarcate the boundaries of Verdant Fall's enduring cold war. "No Sabbat?" he asked.

Pockets shook her head. "No Sabbat," she echoed. "They got done dirty. They started liberating folk with the Vaulderie. Built up a pretty vibrant little resistance cell. But their ultimate weapon had a flaw. It's basically a giant ghoul. You've seen the folks they rig up as Fugue blood factories? They blew a hole in the roof and just... Dropped 'em into the pit. By the time they figured out what was going on, half of 'em were dead. Most didn't make it out. Those that did fell back to Montreal. Now the only one out there is Corr. And he's why we shouldn't linger here too long in this cop car, dig?"

Robyn nodded and stepped on the gas. Huh, apparently this car could go faster.

Liam's eyes went wider if such a thing were possible. All of the truths he thought he understood about Verdant Falls from the smallest secret to the largest accord were being upended one by one with each passing night. And now another chasm lay where there had once been life.

"Keep going," was all he said. He'd have to circle back here later. On his own.

They were nearly through the graveyard, and arriving at the Peninsula. Once upon a time, Tim had an apartment here. The place had been gentrified in Liam's absence.

"There's a nice little pet store here," Robyn said. "And a decent grocery store. Not to mention fashion. If you're in the market. And you should be. What's first?"

“Pet store,” Liam replied unhesitatingly. They were going to get dog food. The signs of life in the Peninsula cheered him somewhat and he tried to put thoughts of the Graveyard behind him.

"You know, if you'd picked anything else I'd be plotting how I was gonna steal him from you," Robyn quipped.

"And I'd help," Pockets chimed in.

Robyn parked the car in front, and killed the engine. She opened the door for their invisible companion, and reached into her pocket for a lockpick. She was halfway to the door when it swung open.

"Too slow, scrub," Pockets said.

Robyn gestured to the door, and looked at Liam. "After you."

Liam strode into the store and took in the displays towards the front. It looked surprisingly normal for being seated square in the midst of a living nightmare. People owned this space, and no matter what horrors they had been forced to endure at the end of the day they did so for themselves. Not for the Camarilla. Not for Keisinger. Certainly not for the Tremere.

Walking the aisles he had his choice of dog food. The brands meant very little to him, but Caleb wasn't fussy. He hauled out two twenty five pound bags, one under each arm. It would be enough to tide Caleb over for weeks. "I suppose I should leave some cash in the till?" he asked, making his way back towards the front. Passing a display he shifted both bags under one arm and grabbed a heavy cow bone.

And a stuffed dinosaur with a squeaker. He gave it a test and smiled. Caleb loved these things.

"I'll do it," Robyn said, tucking a ball chucker and a Frisbee under her arm. "You've got your hands full."

The till popped open. "And I'm, Uhh, just getting it open for you. Yeah." the disembodied Pockets said.

That was one thing off the list. They carried everything out to the car, and Robyn popped the trunk. The car had a rack of six break-barrel shotguns on the inside lid, and an ornate tommy gun secured to the trunk sidewall. Its barrel and drum were covered in strange filigreed runes. Good to know. There was plenty of room.

"The grocery store is across the street," Robyn said. "And there's a designer boutique just around the corner."

"Remember where the Cock and Plucker used to be? It's there now," Pockets said helpfully.

"God I miss the gay bars," Robyn muttered. "Seeing as I'm the one who has gotta eat, and you're the one who needs clothes, we should split up. Do you need a lockpick?"

"I have one," Liam replied. He'd learned to make use of it in Europe. Funny how it came in handy even when he could get inside any space without airtight windows. "Not sure that I'm as practised as either of the two of you but hopefully the lock on the menswear store is no sturdier than this one.

"I'll catch up with you soon."

The store was easy enough to break into, and had far more variety than Liam was used to. It ranged from rustic and comfortable (Liam's favourite) to the fashionable and understated. He'd be able to blend more effectively than in his battered work grubs.

The streets were quiet, and Robyn was waiting by the car when he returned, gabbing with her invisible friend about the heyday of Verdant Falls' village.

Liam came out of the store wearing a light collared shirt over dark slacks and leather shoes. It was not his typical 'go to' attire, but after Robyn's comment about the sartorial habits of Red Watch he was determined to at least try to play the part. Under his arm he carried a small duffel bag laden with additional outfits and shoes (including the ones he'd walked in with). He'd left most of the contents of his wallet behind on the way out and honestly had no idea if it was enough.

"Success?" he asked the ladies as he tossed his bag into the trunk.

"I'll eat for another fortnight," Robyn said. "We'll take the long way home. Continue the tour."

"Lead on," Liam replied, climbing into the passenger side door.

As they drove back out of the Peninsula, Robyn banked southward. They were bound for old Verdant Falls.

"We'll be going near where Sunny's store," Robyn said. "Where it used to be, at least. Not to mention the ruins of the old settlement. Heard you had some fun times down there."

Liam nodded. "Seavers still there? Or has the Camarilla figured out a way around him as well?"

"Van Fokke and his retinue marched in and took Seavers out, the very night they took over the project," Pockets said. "The Tremere have been aware of the miasma since they arrived, but now they're busy discovering shit we knew years ago. I don't think they know what they're really sitting on because they aren't guarding it very well. A bunch of Tremere scholars without any backup. I'm guessing they don't trust the Redwatch entirely, either."

"Smythe is still around," she added. "Jacob and Hasan took him in. He's devastated, but who wouldn't be?"

They took Seavers out. Liam heard the words enter his ear but he could barely comprehend them. Seavers was the most powerful Kindred Liam had ever encountered, bar none. More dangerous than Jacob or Hasan. If he wasn’t a Methuselah then he had dined in their company. And this Van Fokke had taken him out. Like an animal. A pest.

It didn’t seem possible. It didn’t seem just. But then what was any longer?

“I hope he took some of the bastards with him,” Liam said quietly.

"Aye," Pockets said. "Hasan didn't arrive in time to help, but he took a couple out as they were leaving."

Robyn slowed to a stop outside the gates to the ruins. She look a long look at the old church, but said nothing.

Liam stared on in stony silence as well. After a few moments he solemnly remarked "lets keep going".

He could feel Vamanando's presence. Moreover, he felt his own presence felt by the creature. He was sure Robyn picked up on it too. And as he well knew, Pockets had been placed in danger by her unique ability to detect the creature's influence.

Robyn jumped a little when he spoke, and kept on driving. They were coming up on the Boroughs. Once upon a time, he'd gotten his start here with Jake Lincoln. Now, Liam wondered whether there were any Toreadors left.

Of all of Verdant Falls districts, Liam had spent perhaps the least amount of time here though he had no real aversion towards it, then or now. “There was a gallery here, wasn’t there? Nox. The Toreadors kept it as a front.” He’d seldom been on the list of invited guests to the sorts of soirées and fundraisers hosted there even before he was a notorious persona non grata, but he knew it by reputation.

“Is that still a thing?”

Pockets shook her head. "Susan and her brood got whacked in the early days of the occupation. They fought for Jacob, and they paid for it. They made an example of her. Tire the studio down right after the Alhambra blew up. I think it's a Spencer's or something like that now."

Robyn dipped further south towards the docks. Liam knew this area pretty well. Shady deals went down here, a few involving Augusto Deluca.