"Who do I think I am that I should make such a declaration in my view of the Traditions? Why bless your heart; I am Eudora LaCassette of Clan Malkavian, Prince of Perle Perdu. I have faced Katrina's twin daughters of flood and flame when others ran or were overwhelmed. I have held back the black hand's bloody gauntlet while wearing lace. I have cut puppets free with a glance at their strings, and strung puppets of my own with a flutter of my lashes. I have waltzed with foes to the edge of oblivion and come back dancing alone time and time again. I do not just rule this city, sir. I am she, and she is I. You can't hear her whispers, you don't know her sorrows and rages, but I most surely do. Now, you have thirty seconds to apologize, or I shall show you the beauty of my city's dawn and have your ashes added to the collection of those who have wronged her in the past. You'd look lovely in brass." -Prince Eudora LaCasssette to a former rival.
Alyson, it's been, what a month and a half tops since you came to Perle Perdu, but you have already spread your proverbial wings. A new place, new friends, a new lover, and your music? It flows.
You awaken with your first intake of needless breath next to Samuel. He knows what you are, and accepts it. It's reassuring, really. At least one person, thanks to your blood, can be trusted completely. Heck, he's sitting on your bed, already dressed, and looking at you. For him, it's the end of the day, for you it's the start of the night.
"Hi," He smiles, "This is normally where I'd offer you a cup of coffee for waking up. But instead I think I better tell you about the letter." Samuel gestures to the table next to her bed where he has put an elegant envelope.
Beautiful handwriting so steady it could be font.
It has a wax seal. The smell of old school makes her think Kindred.
And that turns out to be correct.
To the honorable Alyson Reed,
I hope you find your crimson birdhouse to your liking. I would find it terribly confining myself, but there is security in it I suppose.
Matters of social and civic import for our beloved community have arisen abruptly. I simply must have you attend a civic meeting at Perle Perdue Heritage Library. Be there promptly at Midnight, and while fashion matters, formal wear will not be required this evening.
Regally yours,
Eudora LaCassette
The Prince is having an emergency meeting tonight? It's the only thing to explain the relative haste. Still, she has hours to kill. The sun has just fallen after all.
Your thirst is there, but at least the beast isn't scratch scratching at your skull.
Damien shudders awake, a voice whispering in his mind "One day, I'll make you lose track of time and have you walk into the sun… I repay my debts, child of Lilith even trapped inside you, I will have justice. I will make you burn" a blinding light. The Dreadful Mara, the memory of her face not unlike the sun itself, perfect pure and-
Well, that was a bad one. Sometimes when you're a kindred one little meal can stick with you. As if he didn't have enough enemies in his relatively new unlife.
Lydia, no doubt, is already prepping the downstairs club, but he finds an envelope waiting for him near his resting place. Looks very fancy, elegant. Even his old Kiasyd sire would be impressed.
When he opens it, it reads,
To the honorable Damien Talbot,
Well, it seems you are ever in demand. It must make for a busy schedule, at least it will tonight.
Matters of social and civic import for our beloved community have arisen abruptly. I simply must have you attend a civic meeting at Perle Perdue Heritage Library. Be there promptly at Midnight, and while fashion matters, formal wear will not be required this evening.
Regally yours,
Eudora LaCassette
Well, he has a club to run, but it looks like for tonight, he's off to one of the Elysiums and will have to leave it up to Lydia entirely. Unless he really wants to anger the Malkavian Prince who is possibly the only thing keeping a certain Toreador from simply removing him the old fashioned way. At least it's the library and not that other club. THAT would be…awkward.
Still, four hours to kill, as it were.
Every kindred is a glutton, the more they can hold, the more the beast wants. You doubt you are in danger of frenzying anytime soon, but yes, the thirst is there.
Then again, isn't it always?
Hmmm...must not anger the Prince. Damien thinks to himself as he strolls over to his closet to pick out a suitable outfit for evening while still trying to shake the mutterings of the Dreadful Mara from his mind.
Settling on a modern cut, black silk suit and a blood red shirt he pulls his shoulder length hair back into a tail before heading downstairs. Before heading downstairs he tucks the Prince's "invitation" into the breast pocket of his jacket. Such a pretty piece...think I'll have to hold onto this one...
"Lydia, it seems I have another engagement this evening. I will get the back room set up before I leave." Thinking a moment he adds, "I doubt that we'll have much business in the private club this evening, but you will need to keep watch over it this evening. Please pick one of the other bartenders to be acting manager up front tonight. Whomever you think is up to the task."
Taking note of one of his regulars, a pretty, but now in her mid-forties goth-girl, Damien smiles. "A pleasure to see you again this evening, my dear. Why don't you come back with me to the private club and keep me company while I get things set up?"
It is very aggravating to have one's territory intruded upon. You do your best to control your university and domain in a fashion that discourages others. It is quite the prize though. Caitiff and Anarchs alike try to lure prey off of it. Mostly though, they occupy themselves with the fraternity and sororities nearby but not quite on campus.
Probably very wise of them. Yet, you have not made all the necessary steps to security. It makes you feel vulnerable, exposed. But more and more, the University falls under your sway.
So when you stir from your soil and go through your usual routine, you eventually do check with Bonnie. At least, you think that's her name. You haven't ghouled her yet, but she is mesmerized and dominated to under take certain tasks for you.
Including receiving messages.
"Professor Welby, Sir?" She says, "This… came for you." An elegant envelope, quite old world etiquette.
To the honorable Marcus Welby,
How proceeds your progress in the fief of pale towers? Your sire was as dear to me as strawberries and cream, so naturally I respect that you, like he, are a creature who values his privacy.
Nevertheless, matters of social and civic import for our beloved community have arisen abruptly. I simply must have you attend a civic meeting at Perle Perdue Heritage Library. Be there promptly at Midnight, and while fashion matters, formal wear will not be required this evening.
Regally yours,
Eudora LaCassette
It would appear she actually wants him to show in person.
Well, he's an earlier riser, so he has four hours and some change to use.
Blast. The damnable beast pokes an pushes. You're in no danger of wasting away tonight, but if you find yourself needing to exert yourself later, you may become at a disadvantage.
|
Marcus will need to switch cars two or three not to be followed but so it goes. Before he leaves he will find four or five members his herd and drink two or three points a piece from each until full. He will then head to a quiet area and call university police using some dominated idiot to place the call and then start his ghouling process by placing a blood point in a cup of coffee and helping the officer to a drink, only if necessary. After all this is done he will do the long route by multiple vehicles to the library dressed in old world high fashion. His red suit and top hat with ivory silk shirt and ivory tie tack and sleeve buttons with the matching cane would do.
Some people say that the dead don't dream.
Some people are idiots.
Visions of screams lost to coughs lost to shaking stumbling death as the mustard gas fills the trenches. So many corpses, so many of them slipping their ghosts before you can talk to them, to know what they know, if only a moment…
Lives unable to be saved. Ghosts unable to be questioned. Waste waste waste…
Dreams are the key that passions, ever the enemy, uses to slip into the sanctuary of your mind.
You awake with an undignified start.
Your current haven is nothing to boast of, then again? You need little. Your lack of material wealth hinders you somewhat. After a particularly fascinating lead the other night of a rumored haunting which didn't pan out as much as you hoped, you're currently in a squat shack set to be condemned next week. You cut your hours so close you had little choice but to rest here.
Now the sun sets again and you can move.
Exactly who put the damn envelope on you while you slept is unsure, but also un nerving. You have at least one enemy in this city, and you're sure she'd be happy to find a way to make a ghost of you herself.
When you open it...
To the honorable Arthur Carter,
We really should get you a nicer place to stay. A man of your rich history who has attended so many important social clubs simple shouldn't be caught dead where you are right now.
Far be it from me to lightly intrude on your oft times odd ventures but matters of social and civic import for our beloved community have arisen abruptly. I simply must have you attend a civic meeting at Perle Perdue Heritage Library. Be there promptly at Midnight, and while fashion matters, formal wear will not be required this evening.
Regally yours,
Eudora LaCassette
PS. I have also left a gift, feel free to use it tonight if you wish
A small glass bottle of strong men's cologne lays nearby.
Mmm either it bothers more than mortals, or she thinks she's funny. Malkavians.
Your blood is strong, but of course, the Beast doesn't care that it only wants more because you can harness more. It just wants.
Four hours to kill, if one forgives the expression.
Alison places the letter back on her nightstand after reading: "I think I'll have that cup of coffee. I swear the smell and taste works wonders, even if I better not drink it."
Sitting up on the bed, she glances at the clock and calls out to Samuel in the kitchen:"Vampire stuff, at midnight. Sounds important, and I have to go. At least I have no shift tonight in the bar. Would suck if I had to take a day off for this."
A minute later she is up and checking her wardrobe...Good thing formal wear is not required. Couldn't come in formal wear if I wanted to, not like I can afford that stuff... She ends up picking one of her regular outfits, nothing too fancy, but good enough to hit a club later if the opportunity comes up, and places it on the armoire next to the bathroom entrance:"So we have a couple hours to waste before I have to get ready to leave. I thought I'll hop into the bath for a quick shower, then we check if there's anything new on Netflix? Been a while since we had an opportunity to watch something."
[dice=Willpower Check for Vitae Mutation Diff 7]7d10
[dice=1=Auspex, 2= Chimerstry, 3=Dementation]1d3
Hmmm...must not anger the Prince. Damien thinks to himself as he strolls over to his closet to pick out a suitable outfit for evening while still trying to shake the mutterings of the Dreadful Mara from his mind.
Settling on a modern cut, black silk suit and a blood red shirt he pulls his shoulder length hair back into a tail before heading downstairs. Before heading downstairs he tucks the Prince's "invitation" into the breast pocket of his jacket. Such a pretty piece...think I'll have to hold onto this one...
Now cutting a dapper if odd (He is a Kiasyd after all) figure, he makes his way downstairs.
"Lydia, it seems I have another engagement this evening. I will get the back room set up before I leave." Thinking a moment he adds, "I doubt that we'll have much business in the private club this evening, but you will need to keep watch over it this evening. Please pick one of the other bartenders to be acting manager up front tonight. Whomever you think is up to the task."
"Probably Chandler," Lydia answers, "He's been solid, and he's popular with the regulars." She looks at him cruriously, "Sounds like the regulars for the private club will be busy? huh. Watch yourself, boss. You do hang out with a ... tough crowd." But as for here, it's clear she's got it covered.
Taking note of one of his regulars, a pretty, but now in her mid-forties goth-girl, Damien smiles. "A pleasure to see you again this evening, my dear. Why don't you come back with me to the private club and keep me company while I get things set up?"
Cassiopeia Crow almost smiles at the attention, though she works hard to keep that 'too cool for emotion' thing going. It doesn't stop his blood doll from writhing with pleasure under the kiss. She'll be a bit dizzy, and probably he'll want to hold off from feeding from her again for a few nights at least, but knowing Lydia, Cassiopeia will get some orange juice and a place to lay down.
It turns out there is one guest up here, one who surprises him.
Casper Vance , the Ventrue Primogen. He met the man, or at least observed him, during his presenting before the Prince. Casper is not a tall man, his glasses are gold rimmed but not in fashion. He is not a 'power dresser' like so many of his clan though his suit is neatly pressed and clean.
"Pardon me," the Soft spoken ventrue inquires, "Pardon me, Mr. Talbot, but do you have a moment?"
"Excellent, my love. I know I can always depend on you." he says with genuine affection for his lover/ghoul as he heads back into the private club, Cassiopeia in tow.
After finishing up with Cassiopeia and adjusting to the surprise of someone already in the private club at this early hour, Damien puts on his best fake smile and says, "Of course, Mr. Vance. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the evening? Perhaps I can make you a drink?"
Marcus will need to switch cars two or three not to be followed but so it goes. Before he leaves he will find four or five members his herd and drink two or three points a piece from each until full. He will then head to a quiet area and call university police using some dominated idiot to place the call and then start his ghouling process by placing a blood point in a cup of coffee and helping the officer to a drink, only if necessary. After all this is done he will do the long route by multiple vehicles to the library dressed in old world high fashion. His red suit and top hat with ivory silk shirt and ivory tie tack and sleeve buttons with the matching cane would do.
There will always be young people looking for a high, and some of your herd consist of students who are just that. Some are driven by emptiness, others by curosity. Though your ability to wipe memories and the power of the kiss itself means they aren't likely to sort out just what is going on, you soon fill yourself well fed indeed.
More than well fed enough to do what ncomes next.
Officer Lackey doesn't realize how ironic his surname is, and sips his drink. The excuse for the call is explained to be a suspicious looking character near the girl dorms, and Officer Lackey promises to keep an eye out for a ginger haired brown eyed man with a limp.
Hopefully there isn't really one out there, or that could get awkward.
"Damn good coffee," Officer Lackey admits as the blood dose infuses his all too mortal blood stream.
Later, the stream of vehicles turns out to be easily arranged.
Alison places the letter back on her nightstand after reading: "I think I'll have that cup of coffee. I swear the smell and taste works wonders, even if I better not drink it."
"Sure thing," He moves to the kitchenette and gets some coffee for them both, "Sometimes the mundane touches the spiritual... coffee is God's way of letting us know he loves us and wants us to be happy."
Sitting up on the bed, she glances at the clock and calls out to Samuel in the kitchen:"Vampire stuff, at midnight. Sounds important, and I have to go. At least I have no shift tonight in the bar. Would suck if I had to take a day off for this."
"You have to go? They really are strict aren't they? I mean, don't complain that much, but it seems the older they get the more demanding they can be." His voice questions from the kitchen. He's curious about her kind, because he's fascinated, enraptured with her. Is carnal desire for her body and blood a component? Yes, but more than that, she likes to think Samuel found her fascinating before, and genuinely cares about her. He acted like it long before the third drop.
A minute later she is up and checking her wardrobe...Good thing formal wear is not required. Couldn't come in formal wear if I wanted to, not like I can afford that stuff... She ends up picking one of her regular outfits, nothing too fancy, but good enough to hit a club later if the opportunity comes up, and places it on the armoire next to the bathroom entrance:"So we have a couple hours to waste before I have to get ready to leave. I thought I'll hop into the bath for a quick shower, then we check if there's anything new on Netflix? Been a while since we had an opportunity to watch something."
He hands her her the coffee as she inquires, "Huh, I think Rogue One is on, but then I have a weakness for star wars and you're very tolerant of me."
"Excellent, my love. I know I can always depend on you." he says with genuine affection for his lover/ghoul as he heads back into the private club, Cassiopeia in tow.
Lydia fights a blush, but she can't keep the pleasure at his praise out of her eyes.
After finishing up with Cassiopeia and adjusting to the surprise of someone already in the private club at this early hour, Damien puts on his best fake smile and says, "Of course, Mr. Vance. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the evening? Perhaps I can make you a drink?"
"You probably could," He says amiably, "But no, nothing for me tonight. My visit is in regards to your skills at mixology and your renowned inventory. Am I to understand you carry liquors of the most unusual, reserves that most others cannot get? If so, I am interested in buying something quite specific for an acquaintance."
"Indeed, Mr. Vance, I do have a significant variety of rare liquors. What particular peculiarity strikes your interest?" Damien asks, his interest piqued.
"Sure thing," He moves to the kitchenette and gets some coffee for them both, "Sometimes the mundane touches the spiritual... coffee is God's way of letting us know he loves us and wants us to be happy."
"It's a gift from God, by all means." The first few times after her embrace, Alyson had insisted on trying to drink it. She could, without problem, but eventually, she always had to regurgitate it...which was not amusing. So she adapted. It was strange, only sipping the coffee, letting the taste linger in the mouth for a moment, then spitting it back out. But then, those professional Wine Tasters did the same thing, didn't they?
"You have to go? They really are strict aren't they? I mean, don't complain that much, but it seems the older they get the more demanding they can be." His voice questions from the kitchen. He's curious about her kind, because he's fascinated, enraptured with her. Is carnal desire for her body and blood a component? Yes, but more than that, she likes to think Samuel found her fascinating before, and genuinely cares about her. He acted like it long before the third drop.
"Yep. I told you I can't really tell you details about these things, but this time, it's really important I go..." Alyson responded, feeling his eyes wandering over her nightgown when she appeared in the door frame. He WAS a mortal...and while being with him in a carnal way was enjoyable, she did not know the kind of longing and desire he could feel. She had been working the last few nights, and it had been a while since they were lovers...she realized that, but her mind was nevertheless occupied with the letter she had received - in mortal terms, she wasn't really in the mood for that kind of thing. Well, no use worrying about it right now. If he brought it up, she could still think about it.
He hands her the coffee as she inquires, "Huh, I think Rogue One is on, but then I have a weakness for star wars and you're very tolerant of me."
"Haha...but that's just because 'The Force awakens' was kinda the same story as that earlier part, just with more special effects. But Elise and Thomas said the new one is good, and if they agree, it has to be true...besides, you watched the Gilmore Girls Reboot with me! So the tolerance is not one-sided-", she laughs, enjoying her coffee, without swallowing.
"Indeed, Mr. Vance, I do have a significant variety of rare liquors. What particular peculiarity strikes your interest?" Damien asks, his interest piqued.
"Quite a delicacy, I have only had it once myself," He admits "As you know, my clan can be notoriously...precise. However, it is this same idiosyncrasy that often has us fascinated by variations. I was hoping for the blood of a female lupine... or to use the cruder vernacular, a werewolf." Mr. Vance presses his glasses to the bridge of his nose, "I realize, they are rare here. And I'm glad of that, but I thought perhaps you had a supplier or just a very old bottle. If genuine, I would be willing to reward you handsomely for it."
"Yep. I told you I can't really tell you details about these things, but this time, it's really important I go..." Alyson responded, feeling his eyes wandering over her nightgown when she appeared in the door frame. He WAS a mortal...and while being with him in a carnal way was enjoyable, she did not know the kind of longing and desire he could feel. She had been working the last few nights, and it had been a while since they were lovers...she realized that, but her mind was nevertheless occupied with the letter she had received - in mortal terms, she wasn't really in the mood for that kind of thing. Well, no use worrying about it right now. If he brought it up, she could still think about it.
Samuel nods patiently. He may learn more in the future, but for now, curiosity can wait and he trusts her when she says she can't tell him more beyond that. "Understood. Just don't let them bully you around too much." Protectively.
He really has no idea how powerful some of the elders are, and its best he never finds out.
"Haha...but that's just because 'The Force awakens' was kinda the same story as that earlier part, just with more special effects. But Elise and Thomas said the new one is good, and if they agree, it has to be true...besides, you watched the Gilmore Girls Reboot with me! So the tolerance is not one-sided-", she laughs, enjoying her coffee, without swallowing.
"It's not that much the same....and the reason strong force users are often born on desert planets is well documented..." One must protect the dignity of one's geekdom after all but then he smiles, "Okay, a LITTLE the same. Still cool though, and it beat those horrible prequels by parsecs." She mentions the Gilmore Girls Reboot, he mock shudders, "You're right. I'm a fantastic guy."
The movie plays, and wow... oh! Ha!ooops... yikes! Yay! NO! Argh!
and so forth.
Samuel is pleased, clearly, "What did you think?" He asks after it was over. It's her first time seeing it so he's curious.
He really has no idea how powerful some of the elders are, and its best he never finds out.
"It's not that much the same....and the reason strong force users are often born on desert planets is well documented..." One must protect the dignity of one's geekdom after all but then he smiles, "Okay, a LITTLE the same. Still cool though, and it beat those horrible prequels by parsecs." She mentions the Gilmore Girls Reboot, he mock shudders, "You're right. I'm a fantastic guy."
The movie plays, and wow... oh! Ha!ooops... yikes! Yay! NO! Argh!
and so forth.Samuel is pleased, clearly, "What did you think?" He asks after it was over. It's her first time seeing it so he's curious....
Looking up from her convenient position cuddled up against him, enjoying his warmth, his breathing, his heartbeat, Alyson smiles:"It was awesome. I didn't like the ending very much but I guess they had to do it that way." With the TV silent again, light rain can be heared from the outside, with about 90 minutes left to midnight:"Just my luck...guess I won't take the Scooter. Do you mind dropping me off later? I can fetch an Uber home when we're done-"
"Yeah, the new Hope mentioned that many folks died to get that information, so this is their story." A nod, and Samuel strokes her hair fondly. He listens to the rain, "Sure. I don't want you to catch a co..ah," A pause as he realizes she might not catch colds, "Well, whether you can catch one or not, I don't want you getting drenched."
He holds her for a time, then begins to kiss her, coaxing her. Mortals have needs and where there is life there is heat. "How much time do we have?" Hope in his eyes.
You float in the dark spot of God's eye. You are basking in the abyss's cool wisdom. You drift and float and…
Wake late.
You often do. Why would you want to leave such a spiritual revelation? The sun has been down for a half hour, and you stir in your haven. De Cyprès was a brilliant move on your part. Not just one custom made haven, but at least one 'safe room' in every house in the neighborhood and no one thinks it is any more than an experiment in architecture.
As you rise, you notice the envelope, for a moment you wonder if it's the work of your sire, but no, he's not that into perfuming his letters.
To the honorable Paola Costa,
It can get blistering hot in Perle Perdu, so the shade you have cast is appreciated. One can't help but notice it and approve. That said, do look out for needles and threads, someone might try to sew you back onto some young lad's foot. Oh, but where was I?
Matters of social and civic import for our beloved community have arisen abruptly. I simply must have you attend a civic meeting at Perle Perdue Heritage Library. Be there promptly at Midnight, and while fashion matters, formal wear will not be required this evening. I'm sure you'll look very nice even if you must take our word for it.
Regally yours,
Eudora LaCassette
The Prince it seems is having an emergency meeting. You notice you have 3 and a half hours before you must be there.
Were you a weaker vampire, you might almost feel near sated, but your lineage and closeness compared to other neonates has your veins twitch with hope of a meal. You should be fine for the night despite that. But then again, what if you need to utilize your prowess?
"Hmm...I will have to check my stock to see what I still have. Regardless, I highly doubt that I have enough to part with an entire bottle. Perhaps half a bottle would do? It has been a while since I have partaken of Garou, I believe that is what they call themselves, blood but it does pair quite nicely certain regional liquors, depending on the source." Damien comments.
"Tell you what, give a few moments and I'll check the collection and let you know what I have available. Fair enough?"
"Hmm...I will have to check my stock to see what I still have. Regardless, I highly doubt that I have enough to part with an entire bottle. Perhaps half a bottle would do? It has been a while since I have partaken of Garou, I believe that is what they call themselves, blood but it does pair quite nicely certain regional liquors, depending on the source." Damien comments.
"Well, I would prefer an whole bottle and I would, of course, pay more for it. But I will pay for what you can spare."
"Tell you what, give a few moments and I'll check the collection and let you know what I have available. Fair enough?"
"Quite. Thank you, young sir." A polite smile. He doesn't demand like some Ventrue are said to.
Does that mean he's more or less dangerous?
Oh well, there it was. But Alyson had to admit that watching a movie had proven to be quite a successful distraction.
She had heared his heart rate accelerate even before he started kissing her. Tu-Tump. Tu-Tump. Tu-Tump. The rhythm of his life sung of excitement.
And the Fugue adapted to play a melody to this rhythm as she made up her mind. He was bound to her, and she would take care of his needs, even if the act would provide no release for her.
Returning a kiss, she whispers:"Plenty enough time..." while her hand slides down his chest and stomach, coming to rest on the bulge in his boxers, and her subconscious willing her body to get ready for what would come next.
I believe my humanity is high enough to not require expenditure of blood?
Some nights, it is very good to be a ghoul. And it is not unpleasant for a certain Alyson, though of course, it cannot compare to the feeding.
All fades to black, and when intimacies are over...
she realizes it is time to head to the Library.
A shower, getting dressed with the clothes she prepared, and a short drive all await.
While showering, Alysons mind wandered: I wonder what God thinks of that...there is no chance to procreate...Onan was slain...is my womb any better than the ground in the eyes of the almighty?...
With a flash of guilt and a determination to ask the priest after the next mass, she gets dressed and rushes to the car...they still have more than enough time, but she didn't want Sam to drop her off right at the Library.
Retreating to room where he keeps his special collection under lock and key (among other security measures), Damien searches for the vintage requested.
Searching for a little while he eventually finds what he's looking for. "Ah, excellent!" removing the stopper he breathes in deep before transferring half of the bottle to a 375 ml bottle and stoppering both.
Returning to the private club he addresses Mr. Vance. "It appears to be your lucky day, Mr. Vance. I happened to have one bottle left. According to the label it is Black Fury blood, sadly only can take its word as the bottle is one that I inherited from my Sire. I had a tiny sip in back among my collection. I can assure you that it is genuine Garou blood for sure. If you would like it to go further may I suggest a bit of cream with ouzo and a sprig of fennel, preferably cold."
Realizing he's rambling a bit, he cuts to the point. "I assume you are still interested? If so, all that is left is the negotiation of price and type of currency. Are we dealing in cash or boons this evening, Mr. Vance?"
He adds with a smile,"I am afraid credit is right out."
Paolo rose slowly, loathe to depart the dark mystery of the Abyss. He sat on the edge of his bed and spent a few moments staring into the mirror he placed there for just that purpose as he spoke his evening prayers. It showed only the empty bed, as always. As it should be. Only then did he don the small crucifix he always wore next to his heart, pressing it briefly to his lips as he did. He smelled the letter all the while, but kept it from his thoughts.
Mind cleared and spirit cleansed, Paolo read it and considered his options. Increased occupancy improved them, especially since this time last year, but it remained early enough that adults might still be awake. The only ones sleeping at this hour would be children and toddlers, not the best prey on any level.
Not for the first time, Paolo contemplated the value of willing vessels. Bored housewives. Kinky clubbers. He could easily call Jacob or his lovely husband who had hinted that they might like a third playmate and- No. Paolo forced the appealing thought away. If anything he should gift them the touch of his vitae. It would be easy enough to do without their knowing, then his shadow would be within them and- No. Paolo would have to make do as he was. For now.
The matter of dress occupied him next. His father tried to impress the habit upon him, but Paolo remained incorrigible. His wardrobe held endless t-shirts and jeans, an assortment of swimsuits that had lately grown again, and just a few pieces he wore for necessary business meetings. Those would have to do. He selected a violet button-down and black trousers, tossing them lightly on the bed before he repaired to his shower for a thorough scrubbing. He combed his hair facing the void were his head would be in the fogged up mirror, feeling carefully to put every strand as close to in place as he could. Father spent months on that skill and Paolo had yet to master it either, but he had gotten better these past ten years.
Paolo dressed himself, checked his hair again -Good enough.- and began the next set of rituals. He threw some vegetables into the garbage disposal and let it run. A reeking bag of something vile from O'Tolley's went out into the garbage in the garage. He collected his coat, phone, keys, the other phone he used for emergencies, and the messenger bag that held his most disposable laptop, then re-checked everything.
Right, the cigarette. Paolo lit one and let it burn in his hand for a minute before dousing it in the sink and pitching it in the trash. As he did, Paolo reminded himself that he started up in college and he was trying to quit, but it was hard.
That seemed to be everything, then. He may as well be off. If Paolo started working he might lose track of the time. He took stock for another minute and texted notes to himself about the chores that he needed to see to soon: another bag of that slop, meat to burn...and everything else would last until the end of the week. Good.
Everything settled, he got in his car and drove to the library. It wouldn't hurt to arrive very early and get a sense of the situation.
Willpower
He shakes off the dreams of the prior night, the incessant dreams that have been with him for nearly a century now.
Arthur sighs, The Princess... is that the correct term? Is right, I have been taking far too many risks...
He makes his way to the Heritage Library early. Far far too early. Arthur stands in the shadows nearby and observes....
Dexterity + Stealth
Searching for a little while he eventually finds what he's looking for. "Ah, excellent!" removing the stopper he breathes in deep before transferring half of the bottle to a 375 ml bottle and stoppering both.
One can almost smell the primal rage.
Returning to the private club he addresses Mr. Vance. "It appears to be your lucky day, Mr. Vance. I happened to have one bottle left. According to the label it is Black Fury blood, sadly only can take its word as the bottle is one that I inherited from my Sire. I had a tiny sip in back among my collection. I can assure you that it is genuine Garou blood for sure. If you would like it to go further may I suggest a bit of cream with ouzo and a sprig of fennel, preferably cold."
"Well, I admit, I would not know a black fury from a gray warbler when it comes to type of Lupine but mmm I will keep the suggestions of ouzo and fennel in mind," He nods curiously.
Realizing he's rambling a bit, he cuts to the point. "I assume you are still interested? If so, all that is left is the negotiation of price and type of currency. Are we dealing in cash or boons this evening, Mr. Vance?"He adds with a smile,"I am afraid credit is right out."
A chuckle, "Open credit can be the most valuable payment, Mr. Talbot, but I understand. It is all too easy for one to deny. I could have ten thousand dollars transferred to your accounts tonight if you like. If you prefer something else. Well, I am a Primogen. I have some influence. What would you hope? The right to embrace? The greater clans have been denied, but for a rarer bloodline, my voice in the Prince's ear would allow you that I think."
The man seems perfectly serious.
"Of course, for that kind of 'price' I expect discretion, the whole bottle, and perhaps that drink you offered earlier at another time," Mr. Vance speaks of it as if it truly isn't out of his reach.
Paolo dressed himself, checked his hair again -Good enough.- and began the next set of rituals. He threw some vegetables into the garbage disposal and let it run. A reeking bag of something vile from O'Tolley's went out into the garbage in the garage. He collected his coat, phone, keys, the other phone he used for emergencies, and the messenger bag that held his most disposable laptop, then re-checked everything.Right, the cigarette. Paolo lit one and let it burn in his hand for a minute before dousing it in the sink and pitching it in the trash. As he did, Paolo reminded himself that he started up in college and he was trying to quit, but it was hard.
That seemed to be everything, then. He may as well be off. If Paolo started working he might lose track of the time. He took stock for another minute and texted notes to himself about the chores that he needed to see to soon: another bag of that slop, meat to burn...and everything else would last until the end of the week. Good.
Everything settled, he got in his car and drove to the library. It wouldn't hurt to arrive very early and get a sense of the situation.
Paolo knows the way, and drives smoothly enough of course. He leaves his beloved neighborhood behind getting into older areas, a twist a turn and then...
someone darts in front of his vehicle!
"S$#@!" Paolo swore as he hit the brakes and tried to turn away from the pedestrian.
Willpower 8d10
He shakes off the dreams of the prior night, the incessant dreams that have been with him for nearly a century now.
Arthur sighs, The Princess... is that the correct term? Is right, I have been taking far too many risks...
He makes his way to the Heritage Library early. Far far too early. Arthur stands in the shadows nearby and observes....
Dexterity + Stealth 2d10+3d10
Perle Perdue Heritage Library is one of the oldest buildings in the city, rife with a mix of Colonial French and Antebellum syles though Arthur notices someone tried to slip in a bit of old Greeco-Egyptian homages. It almost reminds him of...well, that was a long time ago.
Entering into the library isn't hard, the main area anyway...
There's also a service door in the back better hidden, no doubt leading to the basement and archive area that is used for the meetings. No doubt that is locked.
Which way does he want to go in. The upstairs main area is closing up in the next hour or two and very light.
As Arthur observes the Library his thoughts of course shift to the Underworld and he uses his unique abilities to examine the Shadow around the Library.
As Arthur observes the Library his thoughts of course shift to the Underworld and he uses his unique abilities to examine the Shadow around the Library.
** spoiler omitted **
As he hides outside and observes, he notices somethings even kindred don't see...
"S%*+!" Paolo swore as he hit the brakes and tried to turn away from the pedestrian.
[dice=Wits+Drive]4d10
It's to Paolo's credit that he swerves to avoid the woman just in time. The person he nearly ran over appears to be a woman with light brown skin , casual clothes and panicked eyes. She's got some sort of metal box tucked under one arm. But the fear isn't directed towards him. She glances back over her shoulder, then keeps running.
Three figures from further back are in pursuit. As they get closer, Paolo can see all three are pale men dressed almost as casually.
Paolo thought he was dodging a stupid teenager on a skateboard. A grown woman with a box was something else. Was she being ro- Pale guys with swastikas could be anything. Paolo had places to be.
Some of the old fire kindled in him. I hate Nazis and I have three hours. Paolo turned the car around and started after them.
Marcus will stop by a good survival shop and buy a pair of excellent night sight binoculars and then park in a parking garage across the way and watch the library from a distance for a while monitoring the entrance until he has to leave to arrive 15 minutes early.
Bubba, at Bubba's Survival shop, nods, "That there will let you see the make and model of a drone. Damn drones. Less you're watching your woman to see if she's cheating on you. Either way, i'll serve you." and Marcus has his night sight binoculars.
Then he makes his drive to spy on the place.
The library is lovely, but this time few go into it.
[dice=Perc+Alertness]4d10
Paolo thought he was dodging a stupid teenager on a skateboard. A grown woman with a box was something else. Was she being ro- Pale guys with swastikas could be anything. Paolo had places to be.
Some of the old fire kindled in him. I hate Nazis and I have three hours. Paolo turned the car around and started after them.
[dice=Perc+Awareness]3d10
Ah, all the times not to have Auspex, still, there's no sense of the supernatural involved here. His car whirls and gains on the neo nazis with great rapidity. One turns and notices someone about to run them down and yells "Holy s~@%!"
"Workers of the world, unite! You small-pricked pieces of s*@*!" Paolo shouted as he took aim and floored it.
A chuckle, "Open credit can be the most valuable payment, Mr. Talbot, but I understand. It is all too easy for one to deny. I could have ten thousand dollars transferred to your accounts tonight if you like. If you prefer something else. Well, I am a Primogen. I have some influence. What would you hope? The right to embrace? The greater clans have been denied, but for a rarer bloodline, my voice in the Prince's ear would allow you that I think."
The man seems perfectly serious.
"Of course, for that kind of 'price' I expect discretion, the whole bottle, and perhaps that drink you offered earlier at another time," Mr. Vance speaks of it as if it truly isn't...
Damien provides Mr. Vance a broad smile. "Nothing of the sort. I never wanted children as a mortal, I'm not much more fond of the idea now. Ten thousand transfered into my account will do nicely."
"Will there be anything else, Mr. Vance?"
Heritage Library, 5 minutes before midnight
Alyson is running, quickly, towards the Library.
Oh s@%+...oh s%+@...that was stupid.
They had left just in time to get there, not expecting any traffic. And then they run into a road block, where someone had done a "hit&run" on a pedestrian and police had locked down the inmediate area.
She still hadn't wanted Sam to drop her off right at the entrance, and now? Now she was in danger of being late!
Barely looking left and right as she runs across the road, the young woman is glad that her breathing is purely a habit, or she would have needed to stop at least 2 streets back.
Rushing towards the service entrance in the back, she checks her smartphones clock again...3 minutes...You can do it!
Thanks to his gear, and keen senses combined, Marcus sees Arthur checking out the Heritage Library much as he himself is!
Arthur casts his own glance back and sees someone in a car is definitely checking the place out. Also, because his Shroudsight is up, he thinks whoever it is is not...alive!
Which would be more dramatic were he not a vampire himself.
"Workers of the world, unite! You small-pricked pieces of s*+~!" Paolo shouted as he took aim and floored it.
[dice=Dex+Drive]3d10
One guy goes down, and probably broke a leg... another gets clipped but only lightly and he and the other race towards high ground stairs he can't drive up!
That's probably all the Neo Nazis he'll get tonight!
Damien provides Mr. Vance a broad smile. "Nothing of the sort. I never wanted children as a mortal, I'm not much more fond of the idea now. Ten thousand transferred into my account will do nicely."
The soft spoken man accepts that refusal and rationale with understanding "It's certainly not for everyone, though I admit to envying you the chance a bit. The Prince's new policy has lead to an odd situation." He says the last with politeness, "Yet I can see your own contributions to our community have worked for me in this case so perhaps her policy has merit."
"Will there be anything else, Mr. Vance?"
"I think not, you have been more than gracious given the early hour of my intrusion, " The soft spoken man says, "A moment," He pulls out a cellphone, "Brant," He speaks into the phone, "Mr. Talbot is about to tell you the account he would like ten thousand dollars put into. Oblige him." And he hands his phone over.
Should Damien take it and listen, a crisp voice says , "Ready when you are, Mr. Talbot."
And within five minutes the money is transferred and showing in his own accounts. The wonders of the modern age.
The Ventrue awaits his bottle, "I look forward to seeing you later tonight at this emergency meeting."
Heritage Library, 5 minutes before midnight
Alyson is running, quickly, towards the Library.
Oh s$%@...oh s&~+...that was stupid.
They had left just in time to get there, not expecting any traffic. And then they run into a road block, where someone had done a "hit&run" on a pedestrian and police had locked down the immediate area.
She still hadn't wanted Sam to drop her off right at the entrance, and now? Now she was in danger of being late!
Barely looking left and right as she runs across the road, the young woman is glad that her breathing is purely a habit, or she would have needed to stop at least 2 streets back.
Rushing towards the service entrance in the back, she checks her smartphones clock again...3 minutes...You can do it!
Rumors vary, but there were news crews heading towards the traffic incident as well. Whatever happened it was either big, or it was weird enough to make the 4th Estate smell blood.
But that's not her problem. Her problem is getting there on time without looking a complete mess!
By now she can see that some of the parking areas are, surprisingly full. It would appear this emergency meeting doesn't just involve a few neonates.
"Where's the fire?" a pale man with spiky hair and an open sleeveeless denim jacket inquires as she closes on him, "ah, she's got you scared too. Fine fine."