Alyson settles in, the thoughts of her sire's wisdom giving her a glimmer of hope, and after brushing her teeth, she slips into the large bed and hugs up close to Sam, enjoying his body's warmth and his light snoring, drifting off into sleep for the brief time they could be together like this before he would have to get up in the morning.
Arthur nods in agreement when Fang makes his "another night" comment.
He then sighs when Fang fails to elaborate, "I begin to see why people hear you crooked. I assume they see a Malkavian fool, I see something much more valuable".
Arthur turns to the Anarch, "Americans, such poor manners, first introduce yourself and then call me a bastard".
"Name's Grindhouse, and if you mouth off you'll learn why.." the anarch gives his 'name', though no doubt it's not exactly what his mother and father graced him with.
"Stow it, Grindhouse. You can measure later." Fang waves off his compatriot.
Arthur considers Fang's counter-proposal, "While I am sure I am not getting the same sort of return I would were I more directly involved, I am also sure that you and yours are more suited to this than I could ever be.But ah, I did have shoes, I took them off because no amount of wiping would have cleaned them, then when I later retrieved them they were as immaculate as they are now. Was your Sire some sort of dry cleaner in life?
At any rate, I accept your offer of $1,000 cash with no hard feelings provided that it also comes with an open invitation to join you here again whenever I wish. I quite enjoyed our conversation, so rare to ind someone of intelligence to have a discussion with and without taking offense to such controversial topics!"
Fang listens, but he almost loses it at the mention of his sire having been a dry cleaner. He laughs loud and borderline maniacally, then says "Congraats. That joke just bumped it up to $1500. Totally worth it. She would be aghast. Nah I don't think she was. Just make sure you wipe your feet or shoes when you come in."
"And yeah, you got an open invitation to come in here and shoot the bull with me anytime I got time, but I gotta warn you, taunt the others here and I can't exactly order them to stay off you entirely so.... for the sake of keeping the walls from getting too red with yours or my buds body squeezings, try to remember that."
...
The cash is handed over, and when Arthur returns to 'his' new haven, he boards up, and puts in the first drop of vitae before making sure those bonds will stick. After all, the fellow is about to get stronger still.
And his night ends, as Arthur rests in a much more comfortable haven.
Herb will stand up when able and will leave and on his way pull over and look up the hotel on his phone and see what it says.
Poor Average Herb has average phone skills, but fortunately he's got a brilliant mind riding him.
A bit of work, and Marcus learns that the Red Petunia Hotel is indeed in Perle Perdu. He gathers the adress, and phone, and it looks like it was once a much grander hotel but has hit on hard times, at least judging by yelp reviews. Owned and managed by one Tomas Howlett.
And, it's getting close to sunrise. Marcus can feel the pressure of staying the body growing.
Hermetic writings...destroyed building...the Tremere Chantry, how fortuitous... Damien thinks to himself before answering Jonah.
"Very well, Jonah, I believe we can come to that sort of agreement. As it is a poor negotiator that makes the first offer when seeking to purchase something, I ask you your price for the vials?"
The man scratches his chin, "A thousand for all three? I'll even throw in the case."
The man scratches his chin, "A thousand for all three? I'll even throw in the case."
Damien lays on the charm and businessman like demeanor thick, "My good man, you really do not understand the value of what you have there. Five-hundred, including the case, is more than a fair price, especially given the economics of the situation...the supply is low for sure, but I suspect you would find the demand just as low if not lower. You're quite lucky to have a potential buyer like me at all."
"The offer is solid, perhaps even a bit high as it is getting very late and I would like to conclude this business." Damien says.
"Of course if you were to stumble upon anything similar in the future, I would be interested in paying you a fair price for that as well." the Kiasyd says with a grin as he reaches into the cash box in the fire safe under the desk, producing five crisp one-hundred dollar bills. "Or would you prefer a different denomination? Twenties perhaps?"
Damien lays on the charm and businessman like demeanor thick, "My good man, you really do not understand the value of what you have there. Five-hundred, including the case, is more than a fair price, especially given the economics of the situation...the supply is low for sure, but I suspect you would find the demand just as low if not lower. You're quite lucky to have a potential buyer like me at all."
Jonah frowns but clearly sees Damien's point, "Just worried about selling blood man. I hear they got weird laws..." But he nods.
"The offer is solid, perhaps even a bit high as it is getting very late and I would like to conclude this business." Damien says.
"Of course if you were to stumble upon anything similar in the future, I would be interested in paying you a fair price for that as well." the Kiasyd says with a grin as he reaches into the cash box in the fire safe under the desk, producing five crisp one-hundred dollar bills. "Or would you prefer a different denomination? Twenties perhaps?"
"Benjamins are cool by me, bro." He says holding out his hand, "If I find more I let you know okay?"
Jonah frowns but clearly sees Damien's point, "Just worried about selling blood man. I hear they got weird laws..." But he nods.
"Benjamins are cool by me, bro." He says holding out his hand, "If I find more I let you know okay?"
Damien hands over the five one-hundred dollar bills and takes possession of the case, and more importantly the vials of unknown vitae that lie within.
Their business concluded, Damien shows Jonah to the door. "If you find anything else of the sort, yes, please come see me again."
Looking over to Chandler, Damien says "That's closing time." Damien turns on the fluorescent lighting and turns off the club's normal mood lighting as he heads upstairs to see if anyone remains in the private club. This close to sunrise he would be surprised if anyone remained.
"Lydia, my love, time to shut it down. See you upstairs in a bit?" Damien says continuing up to the third floor to his haven and perhaps more importantly his collection reside.
Arriving in his haven, Damien opens the case and tries his best, with the aid of a magnifying glass, to determine what the small script on the vials says.
Damien hands over the five one-hundred dollar bills and takes possession of the case, and more importantly the vials of unknown vitae that lie within.
Their business concluded, Damien shows Jonah to the door. "If you find anything else of the sort, yes, please come see me again."
Jonah nods, "Yea, though this is some freaky stuff." He admits and then slips out. Greed being stronger than his fear, he looks like he'll try to find more vials like that.
Looking over to Chandler, Damien says "That's closing time." Damien turns on the fluorescent lighting and turns off the club's normal mood lighting as he heads upstairs to see if anyone remains in the private club. This close to sunrise he would be surprised if anyone remained.
It does appear to be dead, if one will pardon the expression. Chandler nods, "Got it," and sees to it.
"Lydia, my love, time to shut it down. See you upstairs in a bit?" Damien says continuing up to the third floor to his haven and perhaps more importantly his collection reside.
"Sure will," Curious look to her eyes. he's excited. She can tell.
Arriving in his haven, Damien opens the case and tries his best, with the aid of a magnifying glass, to determine what the small script on the vials says.
Names, they are...names. In English.Almost need auspe to read them...
Florence Redding, Albert Tarleton, Mohsen Baumschlager...each one on a different vial.
The names mean nothing to him at first thought.
The rising sun's power pulls at him, he may think what he likes, but he must rest soon.
And when he does, he will dream of crimson vials that ring like chimes
Again, there are dreams of horrors of a the so called Great War. Great in carnage, great in scope, great in horrors! Gas seeping into tunnels, the screams of mortars, the crack of bullets and the ever present sense of impending death that strangles every moment.
Arthur lurches to find his prisoner gazing at him with horror, "Please, don't kill me." Looks like he's been trying to get free, but whatever Arthur said or did during his daymares had quelled him somewhat. "Just, just let me go."
Alyson wakes, thoughts of her sire in her head, and her boyfriend stroking her hair. "Good evening," Samuel says gently to her, "I feel like I should be making you eggs and bacon but, well, you know. So what are your plans for tonight? No messages left for you."
Damien almost can't wake soon enough. The vials are still fresh in his mind, and the idea of the ruins of a Tremere Chantry having yet more possible finds intrigues. If those intrigues aren't already on the street.
Lydia is in the shower, no doubt singing because she thinks he's still asleep.
Arthur lurches to find his prisoner gazing at him with horror, "Please, don't kill me." Looks like he's been trying to get free, but whatever Arthur said or did during his daymares had quelled him somewhat. "Just, just let me go."
Arthur's eyes are still full of the horror of the previous night. Within a few moments he pushes the feelings back down, after all, this is not the first time Arthur has taken his daymares into the night.
"Let you go? The same way you were going to let that man go? Oh, I think not..."
Arthur will roll him over with his face down, drinking from him just a bit . With the loss of blood from the prior night, the man should be swooning. Arthur will then, once more, give the man some of his blood.
Arthur will then take just one more point leaving him at full and the man alive and weakened.
Arthur will then tie him up once more. This time, to ensure the man does not move, Arthur will take a few of the towels and nail the man to the floor of the closet with them across his body. Arthur will then close the closet and use a drawer from one of the dressers to nail that closet door shut.
"There, that should hold you until I return later tonight. I'll have to remember to bring you back some food".
His Haven secured and his work at a standstill because he cannot communicate with the dead, Arthur goes back one of the reasons why he came here, to locate his still living relatives that emigrated to America.
He will head to city hall to find the census records for the city...
The alarm stirs Marcus slowly but he does rise. He needs a new body to borrow. So be it.
Wandering the halls of the unversity, he sees the halls have some from night classes, and studies.
Options of who to take over include Staci, an attractive blonde that definitely draw male eyes but sadly fits the sterotype of being both fair haired and not too bright.
Stewart is smart withdrawn, and odd. Folks might not think much if he acts weirdly.
Greg is muscular young man. He's got more friends than Stewart though and might draw attention if one of those friends sees him out and about.
Paola doesn't want to wake. He doesn't want to stir.
He's with God again.
Or at least God's shadow...
Yet some part of him remembers there's something he needs to do. More than one perhaps. He needs... he needs to rise.
His eyes open as his next night begins. Memories of the last night return to him. Neo nazis. The Prince's meeting. Contessa escaping him.
What to handle first tonight?
Paola doesn't want to wake. He doesn't want to stir.
He's with God again.Or at least God's shadow...
Yet some part of him remembers there's something he needs to do. More than one perhaps. He needs... he needs to rise.
His eyes open as his next night begins. Memories of the last night return to him. Neo nazis. The Prince's meeting. Contessa escaping him.
What to handle first tonight?
Paolo studiously attended to himself and the small things that kept the Masquerade. Today that meant burning half a cigarette and cutting up some vegetables before throwing most of them away. Prayer. Then business. He checked his phone to see if Contessa had called and checked the local news to see if anything had developed on the Nazis or related to Hank and the restaurant where Contessa worked.
"Good mor-...evening!", it was still hard not to slip up on those little things - "I appreciate the thought, but yeah, I'll pass on breakfast", Alyson smiled, then she remembered yesterday, and her expression grew more serious:"Something important came up yesterday at the gathering, I'll need to consult with Vivienne as soon as possible...it was too late yesterday to do so. Other than that? Not sure...I figured it's been a while since we saw Theresa and Bill...tomorrows a workday, but maybe they'd be up for some boardgames? After you go to bed, I'll work on my podcast, I'm not happy with the editing job I did on it, so I think I'll try again from scratch."...Alyson was as much telling Sam as throwing together an ad-hoc schedule, then cocked her head:"But that's all in the future, how has your day been?"
Damien almost can't wake soon enough. The vials are still fresh in his mind, and the idea of the ruins of a Tremere Chantry having yet more possible finds intrigues. If those intrigues aren't already on the street.
Lydia is in the shower, no doubt singing because she thinks he's still asleep.
-success
Damien arises, tempted beyond reason to examine the vials again. Realizing his senses are more acute tonight, courtesy of something/someone he drank nights past, the temptation grows. The part of him that remains "human" wishes to surprise Lydia and share a moment or two with...the obsession that has grown since his embrace pulls him another direction.
Damien, Damien, Damien...you own the vials, you are immortal...there will plenty of time to study them...Lydia? Perhaps not...
Shaking his obsession at least for the time being, he sits just outside of the bath, waiting on Lydia.
"Let you go? The same way you were going to let that man go? Oh, I think not..."
The man threatens to go cold, and he suckles like a newborn when Arthur gives him just a bit of his vitae return.
"What, what are you doing to me?" The man blinks confused, "You're… my …" His emotions a jumble as he feels a growing intensity of loyalty to his captor. Not sealed yet, but well on it's way.Leaving the man bound tight, Arthur heads out…
He will head to city hall to find the census records for the city...
City Centre aka "City Hall"- As the twin names suggest, this is where the majority of government buildings are found. Due to mortal security in the area and high profile types, the Prince has discouraged feeding here.
But it's little trouble to get there. A public bus and the census office soon gives him some information that maybe most useful. The records there indicate he has eight people technically either of his family blood or married into.Edgar A. Carter 45, pharmacist, Married to Louisa K. Dandridge Carter Age 43, nurse.
Three offspring: Rachel 22, Emily 19, and Andrew 17
Edgar has a brother, Martin Carter who is age 42 and has a job managing a local grocery store. His wife is Hannah Bernice Smythe Carter 43, who works there at an office job. They have a single child, an 18 year old daughter named Bernice Angelica.
Marcus will use Stewart for tonight's festivities.
"You needed me professor," Stewart asks... and then Marcus begins the process. Stewart twitches, putting up resistance more than expected, but eventually, he is Marcus'.
Stewart gets into a car and drives himself towards the hotel.
Paolo studiously attended to himself and the small things that kept the Masquerade. Today that meant burning half a cigarette and cutting up some vegetables before throwing most of them away. Prayer. Then business. He checked his phone to see if Contessa had called and checked the local news to see if anything had developed on the Nazis or related to Hank and the restaurant where Contessa worked.
He has a text, with her hotel room number and Safe with a friend. You can come over if you want.
The News is playing "A suspected Neo-Nazi was found dead the other day the victim of a hit and run. A full investigation is ongoing, and some sources say a buglary was what initially drew them out to the road as over Eight thousand dollars they had raised was taken. Details continue ...."
Soon the news is moving on.
"Good mor-...evening!", it was still hard not to slip up on those little things - "I appreciate the thought, but yeah, I'll pass on breakfast", Alyson smiled, then she remembered yesterday, and her expression grew more serious:"Something important came up yesterday at the gathering, I'll need to consult with Vivienne as soon as possible...it was too late yesterday to do so. Other than that? Not sure...I figured it's been a while since we saw Theresa and Bill...tomorrows a workday, but maybe they'd be up for some boardgames? After you go to bed, I'll work on my podcast, I'm not happy with the editing job I did on it, so I think I'll try again from scratch."...Alyson was as much telling Sam as throwing together an ad-hoc schedule, then cocked her head:"But that's all in the future, how has your day been?"
"I think a little social interaction with the gang would be good for us," He agrees then answers "Practiced on the guitar in some of my spare time. You know, I really like that new tune you've been working on, it's mellow, you know? Very peaceful." A grin, "And..."
That's when her phone rings. It's Vivienne!
Damien arises, tempted beyond reason to examine the vials again. Realizing his senses are more acute tonight, courtesy of something/someone he drank nights past, the temptation grows. The part of him that remains "human" wishes to surprise Lydia and share a moment or two with...the obsession that has grown since his embrace pulls him another direction.
Damien, Damien, Damien...you own the vials, you are immortal...there will plenty of time to study them...Lydia? Perhaps not...
Shaking his obsession at least for the time being, he sits just outside of the bath, waiting on Lydia.
And still she sings, then comes out with one towel around her middle, and the other in that wrap all women seem how to learn to do. She blushes, not at his catching her nearly nude, but rather, "Please tell me you did not sit there listening to me singing?"
And still she sings, then comes out with one towel around her middle, and the other in that wrap all women seem how to learn to do. She blushes, not at his catching her nearly nude, but rather, "Please tell me you did not sit there listening to me singing?"
"Do you want me to lie to you, or tell you the truth?" Damien asks with a sly grin.
"Whether you like it or not, my love, I enjoy seeing and hearing you happy. Thank you for coming to get me to see that fellow who sought to sell me something last night. Turns out he had a rather interesting little tid bit to add to the collection."
Armed with that knowledge, Arthur takes his leave of City Hall and makes his way to a store to but more respectable clothes and the to the home of Edgar A. Carter.
A family re-union is long overdue...
Once at the front door, Arthur raps firmly or uses the doorbell, whichever would appear to be the most effective at getting the attention of those dwelling within.
"Do you want me to lie to you, or tell you the truth?" Damien asks with a sly grin.
"Whether you like it or not, my love, I enjoy seeing and hearing you happy. Thank you for coming to get me to see that fellow who sought to sell me something last night. Turns out he had a rather interesting little tid bit to add to the collection."
Lydia rolls her eyes at the question of her wanting a lie or the truth. It's not really an answer mind you. The blush lingers a bit.
And then she sits in his lap as if it's her right, which maybe it is. "Oh? What's the story, lover?" She plays with his almost elfin ear, curiosity in her eyes.
Armed with that knowledge, Arthur takes his leave of City Hall and makes his way to a store to but more respectable clothes and the to the home of Edgar A. Carter.
A family re-union is long overdue...
Once at the front door, Arthur raps firmly or uses the doorbell, whichever would appear to be the most effective at getting the attention of those dwelling within.
The doorbell rings, and a voice can be heard, "Who on earth?"
"Well, it's almost dinner so..."
"I'll see who it is..." the door opens, and he beholds a redheaded teenager. The light dusting of freckles that refuses to leave her face even at this age no doubt vexes her, and she is 'cute' rather than pretty. Her outfit is a form fitting flannel sort of thing and blue jeans. "Hello, can I help you?" She wrinkles her nose slightly, no doubt the smell of him being noticed.
"Emily, who is it?" a female voice, older.
"That's what I'm asking mom," The 19 year old calls back.
With a mix of joy and terror Alyson stares at her phone, then looks up at Sam, who stopped talking...he knew the ringtone Alyson had set for her Sire, so he already knew what would come next: "It's Vivienne...I need to take this call...we'll talk more right after, love you!"
Taking a moment to give Sam a kiss, she rushes to the door, puts on a coat over her nightgown, picks up a key, and is out in the staircase only a dozen seconds after her phone started ringing. Alyson was clearly familiar with the routine, moving with trained efficiency.
Rushing up towards the roof, she accepts the call:"Vivienne, I am so glad you call..."
The apartment they had was on the upper stories of the elevator-less old building - and the roof door was not locked, in fact the lock seemed to be broken - so if one needed some privacy, which the small living space they shared could not really provide, it was easier to go up to the roof. Plus, the nightsky during clear nights was pretty, even if few stars were visible due to Perlu Perde's ambient lighting.
The starry sky was one thing Alyson missed from when she was living in a more rural area. But right now, that did not matter...Vivienne was the only thing on Alyson's mind right now...and shining bright as the sun, overshadowing everything else.
Lydia rolls her eyes at the question of her wanting a lie or the truth. It's not really an answer mind you. The blush lingers a bit.
And then she sits in his lap as if it's her right, which maybe it is. "Oh? What's the story, lover?" She plays with his almost elfin ear, curiosity in her eyes.
"You know how I've told you there are different lineages of my kind, yes?" Damien rhetorically asks before continuing on.
"The fellow that stopped by last night had been rummaging through the remnants of the Tremere Chantry and happen upon a box containing vials of blood. The kicker is the vials had individual names and hermetic script on them...obviously I need to do a bit of work before doing anything else with them...but exciting none-the-less."
With a mix of joy and terror Alyson stares at her phone, then looks up at Sam, who stopped talking...he knew the ringtone Alyson had set for her Sire, so he already knew what would come next: "It's Vivienne...I need to take this call...we'll talk more right after, love you!"
Taking a moment to give Sam a kiss, she rushes to the door, puts on a coat over her nightgown, picks up a key, and is out in the staircase only a dozen seconds after her phone started ringing. Alyson was clearly familiar with the routine, moving with trained efficiency.
Rushing up towards the roof, she accepts the call:"Vivienne, I am so glad you call..."
Poor Samuel barely has time to return the kiss but he smiles. He knows the drill. For him, Alyson is the most perfect creature in the universe.
For Alyson, the most perfect creature is...
Vivienne! Oh, Alyson didn't see it at first, but soon after her sire helped her she began to realize what an amazing and wonderful woman she was.
The apartment they had was on the upper stories of the elevator-less old building - and the roof door was not locked, in fact the lock seemed to be broken - so if one needed some privacy, which the small living space they shared could not really provide, it was easier to go up to the roof. Plus, the nightsky during clear nights was pretty, even if few stars were visible due to Perlu Perde's ambient lighting.
The starry sky was one thing Alyson missed from when she was living in a more rural area. But right now, that did not matter...Vivienne was the only thing on Alyson's mind right now...and shining bright as the sun, overshadowing everything else.
"And I'm so pleased to hear you, dear. I'm heading back tonight, in fight no less. How have things been for you? have you been practicing your vocal lessons? How are your admiring fans?"
She's coming back tonight! Oh, the dimmed stars in the city's night sky just got a bit brighter!
"Good evening Emily, is your father Edgar home? If he asks you can tell him that a cousin from the Carter side of the family has come to call".
He gives the girl and embarrassed look and pulls out his cologne and gives himself a spritz, "My apologies, spending so much time in old dig sites tends to gives ones clothing a rather ah... unusual odor".
Looking through Stewarts eyes easily, Marcus scopes the Red Petunia out from the outside. Yes, it once must have been very grand, but it needed a remodel twenty years ago. And it's only gone down hill since.
Faded paint, signs of rust along metal, cracked spots in the parking lot and sidewalk.
It appears to have two ways in, with a third door for a fire exit only.
The main lobby is easy enough to get into and he can see an older balding man behind the desk to greet people.
He also noticed a fellow who seems a bit out of place. Security at a hotel is not atypical, but security in a muscle shirt leaning against the outside wall and lighting a cig, but clearly keeping an eye out? that's..different. In short, the guy has no uniform, but he's on guard.
"You know how I've told you there are different lineages of my kind, yes?" Damien rhetorically asks before continuing on.
She nods, "Yeah, even learned the names a bit...Clan Whoreador, Clan Venture Capitalist..." A smirk. "I know, I know, never say that stuff too loud outside of here."
"The fellow that stopped by last night had been rummaging through the remnants of the Tremere Chantry and happen upon a box containing vials of blood. The kicker is the vials had individual names and hermetic script on them...obviously I need to do a bit of work before doing anything else with them...but exciting none-the-less."
"yeah? Those are the ones you warned me about, well, you warned me about all of them, but you said never let them have a drop of blood or lock of hair. So now you get to turn the tables maybe? No wonder you're excited. " Lydia sighs a bit admiring him, "Does this mean I'm going to lose you for the rest of the night? Or can I wake the dead a little?"
She nods, "Yeah, even learned the names a bit...Clan Whoreador, Clan Venture Capitalist..." A smirk. "I know, I know, never say that stuff too loud outside of here."
Damien lets out a laugh at Lydia's name for the Toreador. "Given their dislike of me, I quite like that moniker you've give the clan of the rose...Whoreador indeed."
"yeah? Those are the ones you warned me about, well, you warned me about all of them, but you said never let them have a drop of blood or lock of hair. So now you get to turn the tables maybe? No wonder you're excited. " Lydia sighs a bit admiring him, "Does this mean I'm going to lose you for the rest of the night? Or can I wake the dead a little?"
"That would be the ones. I just maybe able to turn the tables on them, but that will require a significant amount of research."
Damien smiles gently at her, "I managed to pull myself away from that particular mystery once already this evening...I suppose I can stay away a little bit longer."
"Good evening Emily, is your father Edgar home? If he asks you can tell him that a cousin from the Carter side of the family has come to call".
He gives the girl and embarrassed look and pulls out his cologne and gives himself a spritz, "My apologies, spending so much time in old dig sites tends to gives ones clothing a rather ah... unusual odor".
"Sorry," Emily blushes , after all, she didn't mean to be rude and point it out, "Wait, Cousin? The only family I know about is Uncle... you know what, hold on. I'll get dad." And she withdraws.
He can hear some conversation, not just Emily, but her father, then mother
"Cousin?"
"Well, he knew all our names?"
"Well, we can't keep him out, if he is your cousin honey, it's rude."
"Well dinner..."
"Oh he said something about dig sites?"
"wow, not sure there's been a Carter in that business in awhile."
Another voice, male , younger, "He's an archeologist/egyptologist? cool!"
"We don't know that, just that he said dig sites, but maybe..." And a figure appraoaches.
The man before Arthur now must be Edgar. There is some family resemblance, Edgar is losing the battle of the hairline, and has more weight on him than Arthur. Naturally he's not as pale though he's not tan either.
He is dressed in a button up shirt. He had a tie but it appears to have been removed. "I'm Edgar Carter. Ah, you are a cousin? I don't know what to say. I thought I knew all my relations. Certainly the ones in this area." Dubious but willing to listen.
Damien lets out a laugh at Lydia's name for the Toreador. "Given their dislike of me, I quite like that moniker you've give the clan of the rose...Whoreador indeed."
She looks pleased at that, "Just be careful using it. You told me they have good ears."
"That would be the ones. I just maybe able to turn the tables on them, but that will require a significant amount of research."
Damien smiles gently at her, "I managed to pull myself away from that particular mystery once already this evening...I suppose I can stay away a little bit longer."
"Excellent. Your blood is delicous, but it does not curb in me old hormones..." And she kisses him, still very human.
While blood is the first calling, other lesser pleasures can with effort and expenditure of blood be enjoyed. Much like one might prefer a fine steak, but sometimes golden crispy fries are nice enough that you won't snub your nose at it. One benefit of his new auspex is that he can 'feel' more. And that's nice.
Very nice
An hour later, Lydia snuggles contentedly "I have to let you go , don't I? Mmm get going, Damien. I know you're champing at the bit to look into this Tremere thing."
An hour later, Lydia snuggles contentedly "I have to let you go, don't I? Mmm get going, Damien. I know you're champing at the bit to look into this Tremere thing."
"Is it too much of an imposition to ask you and Chandler to handle the two halves of the club tonight?" Damien asks, hopeful that he will be able to study the vials in more detail, particularly with the benefit of his temporary aptitude with the Auspex discipline.
Damien returns to his collection, studying the vials with his now heightened senses hoping to figure out more.
"Greetings Edgar. I am Arthur Carter. My grandfather was also Arthur Carter. We're dead ringers for one another.
My great grandfather and grandmother were Roger and Martha Carter. My great granduncle I believe was your great grandfather, the infamous Howard Carter. The man who "discovered" King Tut's tomb.
I believe that a falling out of sorts took place between my grandfather and your great grandfather. Since then, the two sides of the Carter family have not gazed upon one another until right now.
I apologize for disturbing your family dinner but I happened to be in the area and someone had asked me if we were related. At first I of course said no but then I did some digging and located your address.
I thought, why not? Why should I not at least stop by and speak with some of my relatives who I never knew..." Arthur tries to make himself seem uncertain and nervous.
Poor Samuel barely has time to return the kiss but he smiles. He knows the drill. For him, Alyson is the most perfect creature in the universe.
For Alyson, the most perfect creature is...
Vivienne! Oh, Alyson didn't see it at first, but soon after her sire helped her she began to realize what an amazing and wonderful woman she was.
Vivienne was like a mother. Like a best friend.
And Alison had been the juvenile delinquient who gave her such trouble before she saw Vivienne for the beacon of hope, the guiding light, the caring and loving sire that she was."And I'm so pleased to hear you, dear. I'm heading back tonight, in fight no less. How have things been for you? have you been practicing your vocal lessons? How are your admiring fans?"
She's coming back tonight! Oh, the dimmed stars in the city's night sky just got a bit brighter!
"I...your voice is so beautiful, even if this phone does not do it justice! When are you coming? May I pick you up at the airport? I so long to see you...and I did everything as you told me...but..." Alyson struggles to find words..."...That thing...which the devil, sorry, the beast made me do on that first night...someone saw. A Ravnos. He intends to blackmail me. I am afraid." ...for you! I was a fledgling then....meanwhile I know you would be held accountable for what I did, as well......Alyson left it unspoken, Vivienne would know that her Fear was not just selfish in nature...instead, she almost begs: "Please let me see you."
An hour later, Lydia snuggles contentedly "I have to let you go, don't I? Mmm get going, Damien. I know you're champing at the bit to look into this Tremere thing.""Is it too much of an imposition to ask you and Chandler to handle the two halves of the club tonight?" Damien asks, hopeful that he will be able to study the vials in more detail, particularly with the benefit of his temporary aptitude with the Auspex discipline.
"Please, we've got it covered," Lydia says at ease, rising and getting ready, "Tuesday nights are pretty slow." This is true. It can be quite the off night.
Damien returns to his collection, studying the vials with his now heightened senses hoping to figure out more.
Oh, he glances down and sorts over...
that small writing is now even easier to read. And his study?Still those names..
Florence Redding, Albert Tarleton, Mohsen Baumschlager.
But now, the nose knows. This is not potent enough to be from the fabled elder council. The blood they use for the legendary binding of loyalty to all new Tremere.
A pity. What a fortune that would be worth... the Tremere would pay well to get it back.
"Greetings Edgar. I am Arthur Carter. My grandfather was also Arthur Carter. We're dead ringers for one another.
My great grandfather and grandmother were Roger and Martha Carter. My great granduncle I believe was your great grandfather, the infamous Howard Carter. The man who "discovered" King Tut's tomb.
I believe that a falling out of sorts took place between my grandfather and your great grandfather. Since then, the two sides of the Carter family have not gazed upon one another until right now.
I apologize for disturbing your family dinner but I happened to be in the area and someone had asked me if we were related. At first I of course said no but then I did some digging and located your address.
I thought, why not? Why should I not at least stop by and speak with some of my relatives who I never knew..." Arthur tries to make himself seem uncertain and nervous.
Despite lingering nightmares, despite the need for cologne, Arthur almost visibly sways the man, who breaks into a smile
"Amazing, you've really done your homework and... please, we're about to eat but I'm sure we can make room for you at the table. I'd like to introduce you to my family, I'm afraid my eldest daughter, Rachel, is out with her Fiancee."
Mmm eating could be a problem.
"I...your voice is so beautiful, even if this phone does not do it justice! When are you coming? May I pick you up at the airport? I so long to see you...and I did everything as you told me...but..." Alyson struggles to find words..."...That thing...which the devil, sorry, the beast made me do on that first night...someone saw. A Ravnos. He intends to blackmail me. I am afraid." ...for you! I was a fledgling then....meanwhile I know you would be held accountable for what I did, as well......Alyson left it unspoken, Vivienne would know that her Fear was not just selfish in nature...instead, she almost begs: "Please let me see you."
"I should be landing in another hour and ten minutes," Her beloved sire says , then quiets for a moment, "Blackmail? From...oh you foolish-," for a moment her sire sounds irked , and Alyson feels as if her world is about to crumble. Then Vivienne audibly calms, "obviously some precautions we took were not sufficient. Don't worry, dove. We'll talk, and I shall think of something. Yes, meet at the airport."
Arthur gives his most winning smile, "Are you sure it would not be an imposition? I know that this is an odd thing to do, certainly it would be scandalous where I come from but having been around Americans for some time such intrusions are not frowned upon in quite the same manner.
I fear I have already eaten, this was more of an impulsive decision on my part to drop in unannounced".
Arthur takes a seat where no plate is set up.
"Thank you very much Edgar and Louisa for inviting me into your home.
I have spent most of my life in Mexico and South America following up on the work of my Father and Grandfather. I have been working on papers independently as I have no love for corporate digs any longer, which link ancient societies together.
Boring work for the most part.
One of my colleagues that I worked with moved here some time ago and died in the storms. His Estate was unable to locate me for some time as I often work quite remotely. The a few weeks ago I was finally contacted and made the journey here. What he left me had little value to any but someone in my line of work but I was glad to receive his papers all the same.
Lo and behold did I come here and by chance heard your last name.
I suppose my question is, are my wild assumptions correct, was your great grandfather the Howard Carter?"
Damien returns to his collection, studying the vials with his now heightened senses hoping to figure out more.
Oh, he glances down and sorts over...
that small writing is now even easier to read. And his study?Still those names..
Florence Redding, Albert Tarleton, Mohsen Baumschlager.
But now, the nose knows. This is not potent enough to be from the fabled elder council. The blood they use for the legendary binding of loyalty to all new Tremere.
A pity. What a fortune that would be worth... the Tremere would pay well to get it back.
-
Hmmmm....interesting. Not as valuable as I had hoped, but still worthwhile as an addition to the collection. I shall have to see if I can find anything out about these three and if they still survive. Damien thinks to himself as he carefully puts the vials away.
This is not the sort of thing to bother the prince with and Tolya despises my very being...perhaps Maddie Hartman would be willing to speak with me on the subject...
Oh, it did not only feel as if the world crumbled, it did. Alyson knew that she depended on her too much...but too much was at stake - she could not afford any mistakes. When the call ended, Alyson stared at the phone until the display went dark again, then slowly walked back downstairs:"I am sorry, go ahead and do meet with the gang...I need to pick Vivienne up at the airport! I promise i'll make it up to you!"
Clearly, Alyson was torn between Samuel and Vivienne, but the winner was clear...
Soon after, she was on her chopper...she would need to hurry to get over to Viviennes place and pick up her car, then rush to the airport.
All the while doubting herself, and wondering about her incredible luck to have a sire as perfect as she did.
He has a text, with her hotel room number and Safe with a friend. You can come over if you want.
The News is playing "A suspected Neo-Nazi was found dead the other day the victim of a hit and run. A full investigation is ongoing, and some sources say a buglary was what initially drew them out to the road as over Eight thousand dollars they had raised was taken. Details continue ...."
Soon the news is moving on.
Paolo laughed. She stole something from Nazis! Still, it would be best to check the car again and make sure it didn't have anything incriminating on it. Might be worthwhile to ditch it and report it stolen somewhere. Too late now to call in and get a police report that he'd found it that way in a parking lot. If suspicion did fall on him, that would look worse than nothing at all. Maybe it would be for the best if he avoided using the car for a few days. Or drove out and abandoned it. Would only take all night. At least he didn't hit the Nazi too close to home.
Fine then. Uber tonight. Paolo really needed to see about a second identity. A couple nights' hacking should get him on the right databases. A phone and bank details in another name would be ideal. Not Simon; Paolo had it legally changed and it would be trivial to trace. A problem for later.
Now Contessa... The friend was not ideal, but he should have expected that much. Still, he needed to get control of her as quickly as possible. He texted back Glad ur safe w friend! Wking late. Will b over in few hrs. Textspeak was terrible, but it might look non-threatening.
Paolo should have gone to her first but Contessa was an open-ended problem and he needed to see Father soon. So far Contessa only threatened Paolo's mortal circumstances. If he had to leave town it would be painful and costly, but Paolo could do it. Someone hunting Lasombra was a different matter entirely.
Sighing at another night of balancing a dozen things at once, Paolo called Father. He could just drop in, but Father might not be there and it would be rude. Best to call ahead and arrange a place and time.
Arthur gives his most winning smile, "Are you sure it would not be an imposition? I know that this is an odd thing to do, certainly it would be scandalous where I come from but having been around Americans for some time such intrusions are not frowned upon in quite the same manner.I fear I have already eaten, this was more of an impulsive decision on my part to drop in unannounced".
Arthur is indeed let in, Edgar goes on "Well, please, at least meet those of us that are here."
Arthur takes a seat where no plate is set up.
He can get a good look at the others.
"This is Louisa, my wife." Louisa is still a lovely woman even past 40, and clearly works hard to maintain her figure. He suspects the brunette touches up the gray, but still. She wears a nice blouse and slacks.
"It's a pleasure," Though she does look worried he doesn't have any food.
"You've met my second born daughter, Emily." he nods, "This is Andrew, our youngest."
Andrew , age 17, is on the scrawny side, also brown haired and blinks owlishly behind glasses. "Wow, you actually do look like some old pictures of past relatives."
"Thank you very much Edgar and Louisa for inviting me into your home.
I have spent most of my life in Mexico and South America following up on the work of my Father and Grandfather. I have been working on papers independently as I have no love for corporate digs any longer, which link ancient societies together.
Boring work for the most part.
One of my colleagues that I worked with moved here some time ago and died in the storms. His Estate was unable to locate me for some time as I often work quite remotely. The a few weeks ago I was finally contacted and made the journey here. What he left me had little value to any but someone in my line of work but I was glad to receive his papers all the same.
Lo and behold did I come here and by chance heard your last name.
I suppose my question is, are my wild assumptions correct, was your great grandfather the Howard Carter[/I]?"
"He sure was," Edgar says, pleased."The family takes a lot of pride in that. I can show you the family albulm if you like."
"Can it wait until after dinner, dad?" Emily wheedles.
"I think she has a point," Louisa says, then to Arthur, "Are you sure you don't want something to eat, or drink? I feel like a bad hostess."
Arthur smiles at Andrew, "As I said, dead ringer".
"I agree with your daughter Edgar, you should finish dinner and then we can view albums, I would like that.
You should take great pride in it. Howard was a visionary and a hard worker. The Great War nearly prevented the dig from being successful, it was a lucky break along with his perseverance that even allowed he and I... I mean my Grandfather to be on the dig site. As I remember it, one more week of no discoveries and the funding would have gone dry!"
He shakes his head in the negative at Louisa's offer, "Truly I gorged myself earlier and I really am quite full. In my line of work, you never know when your next meal will come so you must eat when you can. I was anticipating being incorrect here and I would not have been surprised with a slammed door in response to my showing up here unannounced.
So, tell me, whyever did you not go into archaeology Edgar? The passion for it still courses through my veins".