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...
Madeline "Maddie" Hartman is not a typical ventrue in some ways. Of rural and originally poor stock, she fought off a take over by another ventrue over her familial lands, and won! That in turn got her embraced despite being in her later years, and her ability to read and rankle people made a harpy. She considers herself 'jess common folk' and 'down home', but she's a Ventrue. She wouldn't get far in this unlife being common anything.
So, when she was embraced, she used her powers to destroy the company the Ventrue used as the front to take her land. Petty Yes. Ventrue, yes.
And since she needed some 'in city'property anyway, she had it turned into green space complete with folksy manor home. Probably not her main haven, but it is very much her public one.
Heading that way is no trouble, and with the club in good hands, he made his way towards it. It was definitely more 'supersized cabin' than antebellum, but the style didn't change the fact it was large and luxury ridden.
And there is no valet, but there is Maddie, out on the oversized front porch, rocking as an old woman is supposed to.
"Well, broom earlier earlier, should have known I'd had company. Come on up, younsgster."
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!"
"It's okay," He says, thought he longs to with her as much as possible he also knows she has her own life, or unlife, her own needs. What he feels is a love so profound he would walk through fire for her.
Just as Alyson might walk through fire for Vivienne
Soon after, she was on her chopper...she would need to hurry to get over to Vivienne's 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.
Alyson breaks the speed limit on the way to pick up the car, but avoids any police attention. From there, it is much easier to get the car and drive to the airport but she still has to fight the urge to accelerate and get their all the sooner.
Perle Perdu's main airport is as crowded and vexing as any when it comes to finding parking or pick ups, but, fortunately for Alyson, Vivienne always travels first class, and pays extra to get past security. Anything that distracts from the music her sire's mind, her sire tends to find away around.
So Alyson doesn't have to wait long to see Vivienne. The beautiful vampire is a classic beauty, long neck, high cheekbones, and lustrous long hair scooped up high.
Her outfit is very high chic, and she certainly stands out among a crowd of jeans and jeggings.
"Alyson, my prize, thank you for coming to pick me up," But Alyson also hears her voice near her ear, "We'll talk in greater detail in the car. I will want to know everything about this ravnos."
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.
It seems to work, for a quick OK See you comes out.
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
The call to his sire is quick, "Good to hear from you my boy. There challenging times no?" His accent rolls with a touch of older times, "I take it you have helped that the late Hank's beloved? A man must keep his word."
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.
They dine a bit while he talks, it is Andrew who eats least and watches most. The young man seems to drink in everything said with rapt attention.
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!"
"I had heard about that. Very hit or miss lifestyle, and the better known pharaohs being already looted or the like, well..." Edgar says "We can only imagine."
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.
"Oh we'd never do that," Louisa assures.
So, tell me, whyever did you not go into archaeology Edgar? The passion for it still courses through my veins".[/b]
"My talents lay in pharmaceuticals, and , of course, I had a wife and family to provide for," Edgar shrugs.
"Edgar is a wonderful pharmacist," His wife says perhaps a bit protectively, "And with my nursing, well, it was nice we had common medical interests."
"I'm thinking of becoming an archaeologist," Andrew says.
Emily smiles, "It's actually pretty tedious work. You know that, right bro?"
"The dead still have stories to tell," Andrew says in a faux creepy voice.
The call to his sire is quick, "Good to hear from you my boy. There challenging times no?" His accent rolls with a touch of older times, "I take it you have helped that the late Hank's beloved? A man must keep his word."
"I have, Father. She should be safe for now. May we meet?"
Madeline "Maddie" Hartman is not a typical ventrue in some ways. Of rural and originally poor stock, she fought off a take over by another ventrue over her familial lands, and won! That in turn got her embraced despite being in her later years, and her ability to read and rankle people made a harpy. She considers herself 'jess common folk' and 'down home', but she's a Ventrue. She wouldn't get far in this unlife being common anything.
So, when she was embraced, she used her powers to destroy the company the Ventrue used as the front to take her land. Petty Yes. Ventrue, yes.
And since she needed some 'in city'property anyway, she had it turned into green space complete with folksy manor home. Probably not her main haven, but it is very much her public one.
Heading that way is no trouble, and with the club in good hands, he made his way towards it. It was definitely more 'supersized cabin' than antebellum, but the style didn't change the fact it was large and luxury ridden.
And there is no valet, but there is Maddie, out on the oversized front porch, rocking as an old woman is supposed to."Well, broom earlier earlier, should have known I'd had company. Come on up, younsgster."
"My apologies for showing up at your doorstep uninvited and unannounced, Miss Hartmann." Damien says making his way up the stairs.
"You've been here far longer than I, so I figured if I had questions about this city, or its inhabitants, you would surely be the one to ask. Assuming of course that you are willing to have the conversation."
Damien otherwise holds his tongue until he is sure Maddie is willing to have the conversation.
Arthur smiles at Andrew as he engages with the rest of the family.
"I had heard about that. Very hit or miss lifestyle, and the better known pharaohs being already looted or the like, well..." Edgar says "We can only imagine."
"I need not imagine, I can confirm there are more misses than hits, after all, I have been at this for years and this is the first you are hearing of me!" He follows with a warm chuckle.
""Oh we'd never do that," Louisa assures.
"And I am glad that you did not. I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality towards a complete stranger".
"My talents lay in pharmaceuticals, and , of course, I had a wife and family to provide for," Edgar shrugs.
"A wise choice indeed, they say that following ones passions can make them rich. In experience I have wealth beyond counting, in denominations, a toddler can count so high. I think you made the right choice Cousin".
"Edgar is a wonderful pharmacist," His wife says perhaps a bit protectively, "And with my nursing, well, it was nice we had common medical interests."
"I dated a nurse once, it was quite a long time ago. I can see how it suits you, warm and inviting and nurturing. Though a thankless job, as I understand it, nurses do the work and Doctors get the glory. Much like the military, that I can tell you first hand".
"I'm thinking of becoming an archaeologist," Andrew says.
Arthur's eyes brighten, "Are you? I can certainly tell you of my experiences if you wish".
Emily smiles, "It's actually pretty tedious work. You know that, right bro?"
"The dead still have stories to tell," Andrew says in a faux creepy voice.
Arthur's voice turns serious, "Indeed young Andrew they do. Those who can quiet their minds and listen will learn things undreamed of by modern man.Greater than any film in the cinema, their stories are one of triumph or tragedy or both. From the greatest general to the lowliest of slaves, each has a story to tell a lesson to impart. To those willing to listen..." He snaps out of it, "But listen to me droning on. Louisa, take the evening off. I shall clear your dishes while you all find the albums you wish to show me. I shan't stay too late, I promise".
Arthur releases some of the blood he has built up to make his face more flush, his breathing more regular, ah the mundane...
---
Next Arthur will make his way to the Domain where the Keeper of Elysium Dane Harlow holds court. If it is the Library, that will be his next destination.
The call to his sire is quick, "Good to hear from you my boy. There challenging times no?" His accent rolls with a touch of older times, "I take it you have helped that the late Hank's beloved? A man must keep his word.""I have, Father. She should be safe for now. May we meet?"
"Indeed, we should, my boy. I would know your plans in more detail. Where would you like to meet?"
"Well, broom fell earlier, should have known I'd had company. Come on up, younsgster."
"My apologies for showing up at your doorstep uninvited and unannounced, Miss Hartmann." Damien says making his way up the stairs.
"You've been here far longer than I, so I figured if I had questions about this city, or its inhabitants, you would surely be the one to ask. Assuming of course that you are willing to have the conversation."
Damien otherwise holds his tongue until he is sure Maddie is willing to have the conversation.
"Oh my, here you are coming to me with your hat in your hand, and me the other harpy to the one that ain't takin a shine to you. You ain't worried I might not abuse this debt, sell it to Tolya? MMmm if you're willing to risk it, I'm willing to share a little what I know." She chortles lightly.
"Oh my, here you are coming to me with your hat in your hand, and me the other harpy to the one that ain't takin a shine to you. You ain't worried I might not abuse this debt, sell it to Tolya? MMmm if you're willing to risk it, I'm willing to share a little what I know." She chortles lightly.
"I am sure you know as well as I do, that the only reason Tolya hates me so is because Delacroix beat her to the proverbial punch. That being said, it is a risk I am willing to take." Damien says calmly.
"I seek information about what I assume to be members of clan Tremere. In particular, Florence Redding, Albert Tarleton, and Mohsen Baumschlager. Do those names sound familiar to you? Do they still exist, or did they perish with their Chantry?"
"Indeed, we should, my boy. I would know your plans in more detail. Where would you like to meet?"
It had to be private, or at least give them plenty of warning if someone came by. They had used several places before.
"The park on Lafayette? By the clock." It should be nearly deserted by now and was open enough that they should be able to see anyone who tried to pry. There was a coffee shop nearby. His Uber could drop him there and he could pick up some drinks for Contessa and her friend on the way back.
Arthur smiles at Andrew as he engages with the rest of the family."I dated a nurse once, it was quite a long time ago. I can see how it suits you, warm and inviting and nurturing. Though a thankless job, as I understand it, nurses do the work and Doctors get the glory. Much like the military, that I can tell you first hand".
Louisa is certainly warming to him after that, going on about the troubles facing the nurses of today and the nursing
Arthur's eyes brighten, "Are you? I can certainly tell you of my experiences if you wish".
"That would be amazing, I read that there's now doing their best to make modern laser and other high tech 'records' of ancient buildings because of Daesh aka ISIl tearing parts of cultural . Franly anyone destroying those old buildings and idols should get their asses kicked."
"Andrew" Louisa fusses.
"Sorry, mom," He blushes a bit.
Edgar however fights a chuckle, "Can't say he's not passionate about it."
Arthur's voice turns serious, "Indeed young Andrew they do. Those who can quiet their minds and listen will learn things undreamed of by modern man.Greater than any film in the cinema, their stories are one of triumph or tragedy or both. From the greatest general to the lowliest of slaves, each has a story to tell a lesson to impart. To those willing to listen..." He snaps out of it, "But listen to me droning on. Louisa, take the evening off. I shall clear your dishes while you all find the albums you wish to show me. I shan't stay too late, I promise".
He actually stays later than he thought. And yes, it is interesting to get the album shown to him. For him, some of it is like a walk down memory lane, if he had lived another life.
Andrew's is all ears for any story, and while Emily seems to hang to the background compared to all this, it turns out the young lady does at least have an interest in languages.
Arthur has his 'foot in the door' so to speak. They grow more familiar.
Excellent.
He does eventually make his excuses, and go to the very library where only the other night the Prince held her meeting. As before, he sees a few librarians working there, but also Dane Harlow, Keeper of this Elysium.
"I am sure you know as well as I do, that the only reason Tolya hates me so is because Delacroix beat her to the proverbial punch. That being said, it is a risk I am willing to take." Damien says calmly.
"Well, no one can say you're yeller, Weirdling," the old woman flashes a bit of fang, but just a bit.
"I seek information about what I assume to be members of clan Tremere. In particular, Florence Redding, Albert Tarleton, and Mohsen Baumschlager. Do those names sound familiar to you? Do they still exist, or did they perish with their Chantry?"
"Oh well, this ain't gonna be too much trouble at all for us. You're on the right trail there. Those three were part of the Tremere chantry before it got burned down, they're among the presumed ashed. Mind you, there are rumors that one of them may have used the destruction of the chantry to try to escape the Council's notice. Imagine that, faking death for the dead, hoping to get free from the all seeing pyramid." A chortle, "And they say we Ventrue hold our own too tight. They never did find the body of Tarleton, nor ashes that matched neither, but he's assumed gone all the same."
Arthur nods to Dane, "Might we speak in private Keeper?"
"Thank you for your time Keeper, last night I think I perceived some... I am not sure what between you and I. Searching my memory I've no remembrance of ever meeting you before. Was I mistaken or have we had some prior interactions before?"
It had to be private, or at least give them plenty of warning if someone came by. They had used several places before.
"The park on Lafayette? By the clock." It should be nearly deserted by now and was open enough that they should be able to see anyone who tried to pry. There was a coffee shop nearby. His Uber could drop him there and he could pick up some drinks for Contessa and her friend on the way back.
"Excellent. I will be there quite shortly."
The phone call ends, and Uber is pretty prompt. The driver isn't too chatty, just wanting to get Paolo to where he wants to be and get gone to his next fare.
As soon as Paolo steps out into the park and the car pulls off, the shadows seem to shift, and Gaetano is there.
"Hello, my son," He raises a brow, "An uber? Hmmm."
Dane Harlow leads him down below where mortals do not go, and, it seems, they are the only two vampires here tonight.
"Thank you for your time Keeper, last night I think I perceived some... I am not sure what between you and I. Searching my memory I've no remembrance of ever meeting you before. Was I mistaken or have we had some prior interactions before?"
"I was not, to the best of my knowledge, rude to you, Mr. Carter," Crisply said, "You and I have not truly interacted. That said, your bloodline is not known for it's love of the Brujah Clan. So you did, no doubt, sense some distrust."
"I was not, to the best of my knowledge, rude to you, Mr. Carter," Crisply said, "You and I have not truly interacted. That said, your bloodline is not known for it's love of the Brujah Clan. So you did, no doubt, sense some distrust."
"Ah, it seems I assumed the worst of you then as you did of me. Such suspicious and petty creatures we can be!
I will not lie, I know of members of my Bloodline that despise your Clan for the crimes perpetrated by Troile. In my earlier existence I likely felt the same way.
I have since gained, perspective, if you will.
In Texas once I was out hunting night clubs and sat in on an American comedy show. The performer was a man named Doug Stanhope. His jokes were quite offensive, especially to my English sensibilities!
However, he made one profound point, something to the effect that "Traditions" are the baggage of the dead and should be left with the dead.
It took several years for that point to resonate with me, but it eventually did. We ARE the dead so baggage of such a nature is really just luggage we carry around from our Mortal lives.
But THAT particular rivalry is between Brujah and Troile and there it should remain. Thus, this is a long winded way i suppose of telling you that I have left my prejudices behind.
I shall judge you on merit which I would hope you would do for me in turn.
The "week of Nightmares" as I believe Beckett coined it, changed everything, we must leave our luggage with the baggage of our Elders and look for a fresh start.
However, that does not mean that you and I cannot use these assumptions that others may make of how we feel about to our advantage no?"
"Oh well, this ain't gonna be too much trouble at all for us. You're on the right trail there. Those three were part of the Tremere chantry before it got burned down, they're among the presumed ashed. Mind you, there are rumors that one of them may have used the destruction of the chantry to try to escape the Council's notice. Imagine that, faking death for the dead, hoping to get free from the all seeing pyramid." A chortle, "And they say we Ventrue hold our own too tight. They never did find the body of Tarleton, nor ashes that matched neither, but he's assumed gone all the same."
"I am glad that the question was not a difficult one. So no sign of Tarleton, ash or otherwise had been found. The other two were confirmed to have met final death, yes?"
Marcus will bring Stewart to the university library and track the financial owner of the hotel to see what that might yield starting today and working back to the beginning.
Stewart leaves his outer patrol of the hotel, rather than Marcus risking him further, he sends back to the University. Someone waves at him, and he gives a generic nod, and soon Stewart's form is tapping away at computer records.
Owned and managed by one Tomas Howlett. This he knew from his first search. However, Howlett doesn't have much on social media, or much in the news. He fills out his city forms regularly and has little trouble getting them approved. The hotel has been in his hands since the flood, previously it was owned by Timothy Hardin. He ran it for 20 years. Then before that, Tony Harmon...and that's interesting. A T.H. in every incarnation. In the 80s this was the place to go to but dwindled fast in the 90s.
"Ah, it seems I assumed the worst of you then as you did of me. Such suspicious and petty creatures we can be!
I will not lie, I know of members of my Bloodline that despise your Clan for the crimes perpetrated by Troile. In my earlier existence I likely felt the same way.
I have since gained, perspective, if you will.
In Texas once I was out hunting night clubs and sat in on an American comedy show. The performer was a man named Doug Stanhope. His jokes were quite offensive, especially to my English sensibilities!
However, he made one profound point, something to the effect that "Traditions" are the baggage of the dead and should be left with the dead.
It took several years for that point to resonate with me, but it eventually did. We ARE the dead so baggage of such a nature is really just luggage we carry around from our Mortal lives.
But THAT particular rivalry is between Brujah and Troile and there it should remain. Thus, this is a long winded way i suppose of telling you that I have left my prejudices behind.
I shall judge you on merit which I would hope you would do for me in turn.
The "week of Nightmares" as I believe Beckett coined it, changed everything, we must leave our luggage with the baggage of our Elders and look for a fresh start.
However, that does not mean that you and I cannot use these assumptions that others may make of how we feel about to our advantage no?"
"Mr. Carter, you seem to be trying to draw me into something beyond endurance, and into something more a recognition of peerage, let be be frank," The Elyisum's Keeper looks at him,"My concern is this Elyisum. Every page here is under my protection. Those tradtions you fear will hold us down? they're mine to define when the Prince is not here within these chambers. I have said I distrust you, that distrust will not be erased easily or anytime soon. Actions. Fine. But there's a chief difference here. I don't care about what you think of me, but if you wish to use this Elysium, you should definitely care about my views on you. We're not equals, Mr. Carter. My status is far higher than yours, and you must work before I will even come close to considering you a peer. Now, that all said, may I help you?"
"Oh well, this ain't gonna be too much trouble at all for us. You're on the right trail there. Those three were part of the Tremere chantry before it got burned down, they're among the presumed ashed. Mind you, there are rumors that one of them may have used the destruction of the chantry to try to escape the Council's notice. Imagine that, faking death for the dead, hoping to get free from the all seeing pyramid." A chortle, "And they say we Ventrue hold our own too tight. They never did find the body of Tarleton, nor ashes that matched neither, but he's assumed gone all the same.""I am glad that the question was not a difficult one. So no sign of Tarleton, ash or otherwise had been found. The other two were confirmed to have met final death, yes?"
"Heh..my sources say her head was found ripped from its body, and the Austrian? badly burned beyond torpor with parts of him ashed. Yeah, they're playing poker with tarot cards in hell now. I'm pretty sure." A tilt to her head, "Tarleton was a clean shaven fellow, brown hair, auburn touches. Infamous name, but he didn't seem so mean to me but we didn't talk much."
"Perhaps I am giving the wrong impression on what I mean by Traditions. While I disagree with some of the Laws of the Night, my disagreements are largely academic. I have no desire to overthrow the order which I am sensing you seem to think I am implying.
By Traditions I mean the mores that have been handed down to us, the stereotypes of what we should believe about one another. Such as Tremere must hate and hunt Salubri, the Trujah must despise the Brujah and vice versa. Those are the Traditions that I seek to do away with.
I appreciate your candor that you do not trust me. I suppose by coming here I seek to understand where that mistrust comes from. Is it related to long the standing Traditions I have described or some act that I have undertaken?
Indeed I am seeking to draw you into an alliance of sorts. It seems that you have no wish to do so. Understandable and I shall respect that and push no farther.
I do indeed wish to have access to this Elysium, from a standpoint of learning at least I surmise we have common goals else why would you agree to be the caretaker of this particular Elysium. I assure you, I would see the rest of the city burnt to ash before a single page in any book here or at any other institution of learning was damaged.
I certainly acknowledge that we are not peers socially nor could we be unless I am to assume a position within the administration of this city which is not something that I desire.
As you have been direct, let me be direct, I am here to ensure no bad blood between us and I am willing to prove my good intentions to you.
In the spirit of cooperation tell me, is there something specific I can do to decrease the distrust you have in me or will trust in me simply be something that I will build with you over time?"
"
In the spirit of cooperation tell me, is there something specific I can do to decrease the distrust you have in me or will trust in me simply be something that I will build with you over time?"
That catches his attention, "Truly? Mmm, I admit, it is not often one offers an olive branch of that magnitude, though one isn't needed. We are not at war. Still, if you wish to do me a favor. I have one I need done, but frankly, as one of the 'bloodlines' you may not be the best one to ask to do it. Primogen Northcliff has something of mine on loan. I wish it returned but he has delayed. Given his dislike for those not of the main clans, I doubt it would be easy for you."
"The easiest way to prevent a war is through Diplomacy thus my olive branch.
Northcliff seems a difficult cookie indeed. I will attempt to do this for you but cannot guarantee success. If nothing else it will be an opportunity for me to have discourse with him and show him that one should base their opinion on an individuals actions and not upon the origins of the set of fangs at which they met their demise.
What is it you seek to be returned, how long has he had it and why do you speculate that he has retained whatever this it is".
|
Marcus will examine the name and then cross reference how the hotel changed hands through the deed in particular was it sold or inherited. He will then check birth dand death dates and loom for anything in any records for any of them out of the ordinary. Then he will go and release Stewart after following any further leads with a memory of going to do homework and falling asleep. After this he will find his two police officers and give them a second point of vitae each and then he will feed on his herd till full and finally he will meditate.
Since he started early and has night left he will start looking for who controls all the cameras on campus and buy that fellow a drink starting a third ghoul process.
Alyson breaks the speed limit on the way to pick up the car, but avoids any police attention. From there, it is much easier to get the car and drive to the airport but she still has to fight the urge to accelerate and get their all the sooner.
Perle Perdu's main airport is as crowded and vexing as any when it comes to finding parking or pick ups, but, fortunately for Alyson, Vivienne always travels first class, and pays extra to get past security. Anything that distracts from the music her sire's mind, her sire tends to find away around.
So Alyson doesn't have to wait long to see Vivienne. The beautiful vampire is a classic beauty, long neck, high cheekbones, and lustrous long hair scooped up high.
Her outfit is very high chic, and she certainly stands out among a crowd of jeans and jeggings.
"Alyson, my prize, thank you for coming to pick me up," But Alyson also hears her voice near her ear, "We'll talk in greater detail in the car. I will want to know everything about this ravnos."...
Anxiety. That was the name of the feeling that dominated Alysons conscious mind as she was waiting in the car in front of the airport.
She would have went inside to pick her Sire up...but that would have meant parking further from the entrance at the lot, AND Vivienne did not usually exit with the other passengers, bypassing customs. Alyson had not inquired how exactly she did it, but since she never went with all the other passengers, picking her up inside the airport was pointless.Before Alyson saw her, she FELT Viviennes presence. The music in her mind calmed down and turned into a...opera orchester, for lack of a better comparison. The fugue connected all of her bloodline, not unlike the Malkavians network...but on a more raw, creative, emotional basis. Vivienne had seen the car, and Alyson had felt the feedback, then interpreted it with joy. Jumping out, she looked around, then rushed towards her Sire, taking the little luggage she had and carrying it to the car.
"I would have wished for nothing else than to pick you up...it allows me to be with you!", Alyson responds with a smile, not reacting to the other voice and waiting until they made it to the car. Driving to her Sire's haven, she explains all she remembers, about the meeting, and about Damascus Lethe..."...he must have stalked us all the way from back then...I mean, we faked my death with the help of a Tzimice - why would he be as persistant as to follow us here? Do you think he means to use me as a tool to damage you? I won't allow that!", Alyson carefully maneuvers the vintage car into the garage and turns off the engine."What should I do?", she now focuses her attention on Vivienne, trying to read her expression-
As soon as Paolo steps out into the park and the car pulls off, the shadows seem to shift, and Gaetano is there.
"Hello, my son," He raises a brow, "An uber? Hmmm."
"Hello, Father," Paolo said, bending his neck respectfully. Gaetano was his father, who shaped him into what he is now. Raymond Dykstra meant so little by comparison. He did not quite meet Father's eyes. The Abyss had brought the truth to Paolo. Father did not want a slave of him. If he had, it would have been easy thing in those first nights.
"Not by choice," he said softly. "It's my own trouble, but might be related to ours." Paolo looked about. He was sure he didn't need to, but you always looked. Father taught him that.
"I don't know if there is a connection, but on the way to the library last night I saw a woman -not my neighbor you know of- fleeing some men. She had some kind of box. I saw the swastika on one of the men." Paolo lowered his voice further still, confident Father would hear every word. "It's best my car not be seen for a while, as a precaution." He looked again. You kept looking; Father taught that too.
"The other men ran. The woman saw me. I betrayed nothing important, but in the time it took me to stop she was already on the roof of a building. Seconds. She laughed. She must be...a distant cousin. Or something else. I nearly mentioned her at the library, but I have no real information about her beyond the sighting and the other matter distracted me. I hoped to learn more and bring that forward, as a public service, but my night was filled. According to the news, it seems she stole something from the men."
"This happened between my home and the library, not very close and I wouldn't connect them at all except for the timing and the other problem. I have spoken to my neighbor. I could have handled it better, but she believes what I told her and relocated to a hotel. She is there with a friend now. I plan to ensure her reliability starting tonight. Perhaps the friend as well. She knows that her boyfriend is in trouble and may have to flee, but I believe she has not taken matters further. He saw something he shouldn't have and got mixed up with people who have connections."
"It may have been better to assert myself," Paolo admitted. Father worked hard to teach him that mortals all felt the Abyss' touch and yearned to be mastered by it. Paolo's faith in that truth had only grown with time, but he still struggled to make it complete. A small part of him always resisted. Father's many lectures on how to bring their long-ago slaves to heel were hard to accept. "She was alone then, but I could not see a sure, quiet way through." The first drink might be enough to win trust, but one never knew until the third.
"But she knows me to be harmless, or close enough. I have more worry for her friend, who could be anyone. I'm sure she will not let the two of us alone together."
"The easiest way to prevent a war is through Diplomacy thus my olive branch.
Northcliff seems a difficult cookie indeed. I will attempt to do this for you but cannot guarantee success. If nothing else it will be an opportunity for me to have discourse with him and show him that one should base their opinion on an individuals actions and not upon the origins of the set of fangs at which they met their demise.
What is it you seek to be returned, how long has he had it and why do you speculate that he has retained whatever this it is".
"A book, Mr. Carter. He will know which one. It has information of a hobby we mutually share, and he has had it for about nearly a month now. Normally, being unaging, I'd not worry about such a limited time. But, it is the principle of the thing, you know? I imagine he feels he has not gleaned all the mysteries he can from it."
Marcus will examine the name and then cross reference how the hotel changed hands through the deed in particular was it sold or inherited. He will then check birth and death dates and loom for anything in any records for any of them out of the ordinary. Then he will go and release Stewart after following any further leads with a memory of going to do homework and falling asleep. After this he will find his two police officers and give them a second point of vitae each and then he will feed on his herd till full and finally he will meditate.
Interesting, some of the records were 'destroyed' in the fire and never made it online making it hard to read all the dates. And, of course, it's a convenient excuse to slip in one's own paperwork which maybe the case here by whoever.
It does look like things were sold more than inherited.Since he started early and has night left he will start looking for who controls all the cameras on campus and buy that fellow a drink starting a third ghoul process.
Officer Lackey greets him and tells him they haven't spotted that guy they were looking for but they keep their eyes out. When the second drop hits his belly, he shudders for a moment then blinks, eyes widening. Yes, he's already feeling very chummy with professor Welby.
No less effected is Officer Stephanie Grey. Her own second dose seems to send her into a blissful eurporia for a moment, then "Wow, lately the coffee has been fantastic." A pause, "You know, I never asked, but are you married, Professor?"
It is the third that turns out to be trickier, the gent waves off the offer of a drink, "No thanks. Bladder the size of a pea. I don't drink anything but water or I'd have to get up too often."
"I would have wished for nothing else than to pick you up...it allows me to be with you!", Alyson responds with a smile, not reacting to the other voice and waiting until they made it to the car. Driving to her Sire's haven, she explains all she remembers, about the meeting, and about Damascus Lethe..."...he must have stalked us all the way from back then...I mean, we faked my death with the help of a Tzimice - why would he be as persistent as to follow us here? Do you think he means to use me as a tool to damage you? I won't allow that!", Alyson carefully maneuvers the vintage car into the garage and turns off the engine."What should I do?", she now focuses her attention on Vivienne, trying to read her expression-
"Remember Tzimisce, at least as a rule, are no friend to the Camarilla. That alone might get us suspected of Sabbat Sympathies and that too is a danger. Yes, this Damascus Lethe, what an odd combination of names that is, is a double threat," She admits, but puts hand on Alyson's arm, "But we do not panic no, when the rhythm is thrown off, we improvise and bring it under direction again. For now, play along. See what he wants. We need more pieces of the puzzle. Perhaps he will eventually betray his own weaknesses, those things we can exploit. Then, then we will have him dancing to our tune, yes?"
"A book, Mr. Carter. He will know which one. It has information of a hobby we mutually share, and he has had it for about nearly a month now. Normally, being unaging, I'd not worry about such a limited time. But, it is the principle of the thing, you know? I imagine he feels he has not gleaned all the mysteries he can from it."
Arthur stands and gives a stiff bow to the Keeper, "I do understand Keeper.
I shall endeavor to convince him that the overdue fees would not be worth the trouble. If he will not relinquish it to me, at the very least he will be put on notice that you seek it back. Have a good evening, I shall return when I have an answer from him one way or another".
Arthus sees himself out and travels this time utilizing a cab to arrive at the Primogen's "court" to save himself time as the hour grows late. He will approach the location assuming that at least one ghoul or other guardian will be on site to greet him, or challenge him.
"Heh..my sources say her head was found ripped from its body, and the Austrian? badly burned beyond torpor with parts of him ashed. Yeah, they're playing poker with tarot cards in hell now. I'm pretty sure." A tilt to her head, "Tarleton was a clean shaven fellow, brown hair, auburn touches. Infamous name, but he didn't seem so mean to me but we didn't talk much."
"Infamous name?" Damien asks. "What did he do to become so infamous?"
"Not by choice," he said softly. "It's my own trouble, but might be related to ours." Paolo looked about. He was sure he didn't need to, but you always looked. Father taught him that.
Gaetano raises a brow and listens, his eyes as full of the shadow as ever.
"I don't know if there is a connection, but on the way to the library last night I saw a woman -not my neighbor you know of- fleeing some men. She had some kind of box. I saw the swastika on one of the men." Paolo lowered his voice further still, confident Father would hear every word. "It's best my car not be seen for a while, as a precaution." He looked again. You kept looking; Father taught that too.
"Easily bypassed, report it stolen or we can make sure someone tends to it covertly," Gaetano considers, "Nazis? I swore I was in the twenty first century. Why people associate with losers mystifies me."
"The other men ran. The woman saw me. I betrayed nothing important, but in the time it took me to stop she was already on the roof of a building. Seconds. She laughed. She must be...a distant cousin. Or something else. I nearly mentioned her at the library, but I have no real information about her beyond the sighting and the other matter distracted me. I hoped to learn more and bring that forward, as a public service, but my night was filled. According to the news, it seems she stole something from the men."
"Some Kine are remarkably athletic, but yes, let us keep an eye out for her, though it is not yet a priority since you did not reveal your nature."
"This happened between my home and the library, not very close and I wouldn't connect them at all except for the timing and the other problem. I have spoken to my neighbor. I could have handled it better, but she believes what I told her and relocated to a hotel. She is there with a friend now. I plan to ensure her reliability starting tonight. Perhaps the friend as well. She knows that her boyfriend is in trouble and may have to flee, but I believe she has not taken matters further. He saw something he shouldn't have and got mixed up with people who have connections."
A frown crosses his sire's face,"You believe you could handled it better ? Paolo, you let her go off with you yourself as a a prime suspect if she should choose to go to the police with this."
"It may have been better to assert myself," Paolo admitted. Father worked hard to teach him that mortals all felt the Abyss' touch and yearned to be mastered by it. Paolo's faith in that truth had only grown with time, but he still struggled to make it complete. A small part of him always resisted. Father's many lectures on how to bring their long-ago slaves to heel were hard to accept. "She was alone then, but I could not see a sure, quiet way through." The first drink might be enough to win trust, but one never knew until the third.
"But she knows me to be harmless, or close enough. I have more worry for her friend, who could be anyone. I'm sure she will not let the two of us alone together."
"Oh, Paolo, your eagerness to be one with the darkness has led you far, but sometimes I think I should have pressed you to study more the ways of strength, be it of body , or will. Shadows are our birthright, but our gaze is a tool that allows us to chisel or build memories themselves when properly mastered. This friend, how do you plan to handle her? How do you plan to handle them both? Gaze into the eyes of one and tell her to sleep and the other maybe curious. You know very well the Prince is supporting us, but even she cannot save us if our actions threaten to expose." a frown, "I cannot coddle you, my boy. If you ask my aid in this I will give it, but you will also pay it off."
Arthur stands and gives a stiff bow to the Keeper, "I do understand Keeper.
I shall endeavor to convince him that the overdue fees would not be worth the trouble. If he will not relinquish it to me, at the very least he will be put on notice that you seek it back. Have a good evening, I shall return when I have an answer from him one way or another".
"Nosferatu thrive on hiding, but if you wish his attention, well, I can think of no better place than the web." The web was to be Northcliff's master stroke, one way mirror walkways connecting skyscrappers for mortal use, but actually twice as big as they appeared so the Nosferatu could walk over the prey on the 'main paths' and snatch up food like it was nothing. "He or one of his few childer will note you there."
[QUOE]
Arthus sees himself out and travels this time utilizing a cab to arrive at the Primogen's "court" to save himself time as the hour grows late. He will approach the location assuming that at least one ghoul or other guardian will be on site to greet him, or challenge him.
The Web is more a set of passage ways than a proper court, but it was to be the Nosferatu vanity hunting grounds. No sludging through slime and filth. And high above it all.
He wanders for awhile, some kine already take it for granted, looking down on the city that cannot see them. Yes, you could be murdered in this glamorous architecture and no one see it.
Then a pale woman in a rain coat of yellow walks by, "Mr. Carter, I'm Sunflower. What brings you along the web?" She seems almost pretty mostly due to her smile. He's never met her before, at least, he doesn't think so.
"Heh..my sources say her head was found ripped from its body, and the Austrian? badly burned beyond torpor with parts of him ashed. Yeah, they're playing poker with tarot cards in hell now. I'm pretty sure." A tilt to her head, "Tarleton was a clean shaven fellow, brown hair, auburn touches. Infamous name, but he didn't seem so mean to me but we didn't talk much.""Infamous name?" Damien asks. "What did he do to become so infamous?"
"He was a descendant , or kin of some sort, of Banastre Tarleton, who did not accept a surrender from American revolutionaries...and kilt em dead. 'Tarleton's Quarter' became a term that meant no mercy, and was thrown back in the face of the redcoats and their allies in the future." A smirk, "tough having family with a reputation like that, eh?"
Paolo considered Father's words carefully. He had not been at his best last night. He could give reasons, but Father would know them as excuses. He had done more to endanger himself than he should have, taking far too gentle a hand toward the kine. And he must build the power of his will more. Strength would not have helped as much, except to kill Contessa. That would have brought its own complications.
"I'll take an Uber home tonight and complain about the car being stolen to the driver, then go leave it somewhere and get another from some distance away," Paolo said. That took care of the easiest problem.
"You are right, Father. I was impulsive and not careful enough. I thought first of our particular problem...but I should have thought more of other dangers. It's always both. And I have not devoted enough time to mastering the subtleties of the offline world these past years."
Paolo thought for a moment longer, his mind racing. It would be much easier if he could enlist Betty's help, but there was no way to get her into a hotel.
"She has probably called her friend for protection, but maybe only comfort. Either way, I thought to bring them coffee and have them to drink. Starbucks, black." So the blood wouldn't show. "It's a normal thing for people to do, bringing drinks. I'll get a third and spill some of it on my pants to explain why I don't have my own. That should dispose them to trust me, further. I could ask both to stay another day in the hotel, while I try to find out more, and bring them drinks again. Then the third night would be easiest. Anything I could do to separate them would only arouse suspicion."
"It is a long time of exposure, I know. The delay has kept me from doing such things with others, sooner." Paolo didn't ask. He didn't not ask. Paolo would rather solve things himself. Except for computer services, he didn't think he had much Father would find useful. But if it was such a bad plan that Father dismissed it...
Options ran out far too quickly, after a night of opportunities.
His mention of the Uber and plans for the car gains a nod.
"You are right, Father. I was impulsive and not careful enough. I thought first of our particular problem...but I should have thought more of other dangers. It's always both. And I have not devoted enough time to mastering the subtleties of the offline world these past years."
"True. It is good to be a master of domain, but we cannot always choose where our battles and hunts will be." Gaetano states.
"She has probably called her friend for protection, but maybe only comfort. Either way, I thought to bring them coffee and have them to drink. Starbucks, black." So the blood wouldn't show. "It's a normal thing for people to do, bringing drinks. I'll get a third and spill some of it on my pants to explain why I don't have my own. That should dispose them to trust me, further. I could ask both to stay another day in the hotel, while I try to find out more, and bring them drinks again. Then the third night would be easiest. Anything I could do to separate them would only arouse suspicion."
"I hope that works, for your sake, but it sounds sensible. Sadly my son, you are not...dashing to look upon. I blame too much nordic blood. They always look half frozen to me." A sympathetic cluck, "Do not worry my boy, looks are not everything."
"It is a long time of exposure, I know. The delay has kept me from doing such things with others, sooner." Paolo didn't ask. He didn't not ask. Paolo would rather solve things himself. Except for computer services, he didn't think he had much Father would find useful. But if it was such a bad plan that Father dismissed it...
"Very well, we will try this your way, but should it fail, you must swallow your pride and turn to me and I shall amend any further mistakes. This whole affair with a caitiff created to provoke us has me on edge. It's a gambit, clearly, but so reckless I wonder what the feint of it is hiding from our notice while it distracts. For now, seal this potential threat to the masquerade."
"A good evening to you Sunflower, such a lovely name that we could view the flower as it was intended to be viewed, one of the few laments I have.
At any rate, I know I've no appointment but I wished to visit with Northcliff this evening. I must say, this structure is more impressive in person than I imagined, but then, I'm no architect".
"He was a descendant , or kin of some sort, of Banastre Tarleton, who did not accept a surrender from American revolutionaries...and kilt em dead. 'Tarleton's Quarter' became a term that meant no mercy, and was thrown back in the face of the redcoats and their allies in the future." A smirk, "tough having family with a reputation like that, eh?"
"Very well could be, I suppose." Damien politely agrees.
"Thank you very much for your time, Miss Hartman. I'll leave you to the rest of your evening, unless there is something you require of me."
"A good evening to you Sunflower, such a lovely name that we could view the flower as it was intended to be viewed, one of the few laments I have.
At any rate, I know I've no appointment but I wished to visit with Northcliff this evening. I must say, this structure is more impressive in person than I imagined, but then, I'm no architect".
"It was my favorite," She admits, "Flower that is. My 'father' is a busy man, and, I fear rather set in his ways, but yes, this was one of his most prideful accomplishments and he had many in the wings. Sadly, now underpopulated by his original plan, it's no secret that that has made him bitter towards some strangers. I doubt he has stomach to meet with two carpetbaggers twice in one night, but I can ask on your behalf. Is there anything you have to say to me that can further entice him?"
"Very well could be, I suppose." Damien politely agrees.
"Thank you very much for your time, Miss Hartman. I'll leave you to the rest of your evening, unless there is something you require of me."
"well, aren't you as sweet as tea on the porch," The old woman smiles, "Don't you fret, ain't none of us shy about saying what we require when a debt is owed. We're vicious some beeches that way, mm? You don't owe me much for that tid bit, so I'll let her sit a spell and see if it builds up or what not. I'm good, I'm good. Hell, I'll throw in some advice for free," with a grin, "Which you no doubt knew, the Tremere maybe sending a new Regent soon, lest try to. Powerful Clan, some say too big for their britches these days. If someone were to learn anythin about them what cause them some embarrasment in the start that someone might be the key to locking the door tight on their return, or, if they wanted, making sure when they returned they owed him or her a few favors too. Jest for covering it up. Now, makes no nevermind to me. But a young lick like yourself might want to keep an old woman in the loop on which way he were a going. We old folks do love a story." A wink
And clearly , unless he wishes do do more than wish her a good night, they're done here.
"Remember Tzimisce, at least as a rule, are no friend to the Camarilla. That alone might get us suspected of Sabbat Sympathies and that too is a danger. Yes, this Damascus Lethe, what an odd combination of names that is, is a double threat," She admits, but puts hand on Alyson's arm, "But we do not panic no, when the rhythm is thrown off, we improvise and bring it under direction again. For now, play along. See what he wants. We need more pieces of the puzzle. Perhaps he will eventually betray his own weaknesses, those things we can exploit. Then, then we will have him dancing to our tune, yes?"
"I know...you told me not to tell anybody else about the Tzimice, and I didn't. But if Damascus knew my old self, then he'll suspect it, if he doesn't know...", Alyson feels a spike of endorphines rushing through her body as Vivienne touches her arm, "I will not panic. I will follow the rhythm you give me, and do as you say. I will learn what he wants, and try to keep attentive about his vulnerabilities. The prince seemed wary of his kind, expecting him to cause trouble...mayhaps we could frame him for something, later, when he wouldn't suspect us to have a hand in it? End his act with a bang?", Alyson meekly suggests.
Staring at her sires hand holding her, she suddenly feels a longing, as if in withdrawal - and she knew that focus or concentration on something else would be unfeasable until that was addressed:"Mother...it has been a long time since I last drank of you..."Alyson had grown up with 2 mothers...adding a third felt only natural, when Vivienne was who, in fact, created her the way she was now - regardless, she only used it as a honorific way to address her sire in select cases.
"I know...you told me not to tell anybody else about the Tzimice, and I didn't. But if Damascus knew my old self, then he'll suspect it, if he doesn't know...", Alyson feels a spike of endorphines rushing through her body as Vivienne touches her arm, "I will not panic. I will follow the rhythm you give me, and do as you say. I will learn what he wants, and try to keep attentive about his vulnerabilities. The prince seemed wary of his kind, expecting him to cause trouble...mayhaps we could frame him for something, later, when he wouldn't suspect us to have a hand in it? End his act with a bang?", Alyson meekly suggests.
"Alyson, you are growing," She is pleased at this last, "Yes, the Ravnos may nearly be extinct, but that is only so much protection even for the Prince, and his bloodline has never fully been trusted. We can work that stereotype against him. Yes, those who would silence our songs or try to call the tunes should learn the folly of it."
Staring at her sires hand holding her, she suddenly feels a longing, as if in withdrawal - and she knew that focus or concentration on something else would be unfeasable until that was addressed:"Mother...it has been a long time since I last drank of you..."
Alyson had grown up with 2 mothers...adding a third felt only natural, when Vivienne was who, in fact, created her the way she was now - regardless, she only used it as a honorific way to address her sire in select cases.
"mmm, yes, it has been," Vivienne mulls it over slowly for what seems too many seconds, then she takes her own palm, and bites into her self to draw two very small pools of blood in her hand. The make shift bowl is presented "Only a little dear, I fed on the flight, but I don't want to be ravenous too soon."
As she laps and drinks, Alyson can feel all certainties vanish. Her sire is a gift from God, no doubt of it! An angel sent to her!
Even as the beast inside of her luxuriates in richer vampire vitae, Alyson's soul feels transcendent with love.
"Yes, mother", Alyson kneels before her Sire, sipping and lapping from the makeshift bowl of Viviennes hands. She drew the act out as long as she could, enjoying the rich flavor.
Life was good. The Ravnos would suffer for acting in a way that endangered her angelic mistress...now that she was here, nothing could possibly go wrong.
Having no luck with the camera man and needing more blood and more meditation Marcus will depart and head back home for the night and then on his sire with the phone to see if she knows any kindred with the initials that he discovered owning the Petunia hotel.
It is not his sire, but her ghoul that picks up the phone, a fellow by the name of Rudolph, "Professor Welby? Is that you? I had thought the mistress had released you entirely." He remembers Rudolph. His sire's most trusted ghoul.
"Yes, mother", Alyson kneels before her Sire, sipping and lapping from the makeshift bowl of Viviennes hands. She drew the act out as long as she could, enjoying the rich flavor.
Life was good. The Ravnos would suffer for acting in a way that endangered her angelic mistress...now that she was here, nothing could possibly go wrong.
Vivienne cooed lightly, until finally she felt her childe had had enough and she could give no more without bleeding anew. Licking the wound, the sire healed entirely.
Rarely has Alyson been so content. Her sire's blood inside her refreshed, Vivienne near her. What could be better? At her sire's haven, Alyson found herself lounging inside the haven on a divan near her sire for what seemed to be an hour of just relaxing.
Finally, her sire said, "Come dear, I know how you love attention. Even if you deny it yourself. And I? I have not heard your song often enough. Let us go to one of those clubs. You pick ,the Snake Pit, the tattered veil? I want some place where you will perform for all to hear. Pick one."
Lounging in the divan, unaware of the wide grin on her face, a physical representation of the all-emcompassing happyness Alyson felt, she had to wake from her dreamy haze to make sense of the words Vivienne spoke.
At first, it hab been like a song, and only after a few moments she realized there was meaning attached to the sounds.
"I...uh...I was in the Veil yesterday. I'll probably have to work at the Pit tomorrow, so...the Veil. I prefer not to feed where I work, so if we want a light snack later, it's the better option...and I think Justina might like to listen, too." Alyson nods, her decision surprisingly firm.
She liked the Pit, and her co-workers, and there was no event scheduled, so she could have had the stage to herself...but it was her place...bringing Vivienne there felt...not wrong, but...not right. And there was a good chance Sam had gone there with some of their friends after she run off in the evening. Sam, of course, knew Vivienne, but Alyson did not feel up to the task of explaining her relation to this angel in words that would transmit this intense relationship to her other friends without striking them as weird or endangering the masquerade...