- 0 successes
"And who might that be?" Dalton asks, in reference to the man "holding court".
Morgrym sees the drunk approach and interrupt his coversation with Morag and smiles when Morag sweeps him up thinking you can't always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you... need . Morgrym continues to wait letting things come to him.
BAPTISM OF FIRE - Thursday - December 31, 1992 -
"I am ready, willing, and able. As much as I enjoy helping people at the Public Defenders Office man I know that I am fighting an uphill battle there. The game is up once a person gets into the system. The system is rigged against the poor, what we need to do is keep people out of the revolving prison doors and the only way to do that is through changing the laws that put them there in the first place!"
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The young man takes the glass and has a sip, "Suddenly I find myshelf caring a bit lessh. Ya know there's roomsh around here..."
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The woman takes you by the hand John, her hand is ice cold and her grip is too strong by far, "Come on, I'll give you the grand tour". She begins leading you out of the ballroom/living room and into the hallway which leads to the rest of the house.
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Modius pauses as his new angle gives him line of sight on the door, "It appears there is some sort of Ruffian out there. I'll handle this myself. Please excuse me gentlemen".
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Before Lucian can respond Modius approaches and seems to have just noticed the three of you as his eyes are focused on something goin on just outside the front door.
He pauses, "Lucian. Good to see you and your Childe, Julian is it? I beg your pardon but I wish to deal with the situation at the door, then I shall return that you may pay me proper respects".
He continues to move past the three of you and into the foyer towards the front door.
Lucian quips dryly and with no change in expression, "Of course o Prince my Prince..."
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An older Gentleman approaches as you give your name.
The man at the door is about to speak when he chimes in, "Who might you be to enter a party unbidden?"
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As you place your back against the wall you observe the room.
"[Insert what be believes to be proper form of address here], I am Rick North. I came to present myself according to custom. I was unaware there was a party until I got here, I figured it was best not to wait for introduction."
"I am ready, willing, and able. As much as I enjoy helping people at the Public Defenders Office man I know that I am fighting an uphill battle there. The game is up once a person gets into the system. The system is rigged against the poor, what we need to do is keep people out of the revolving prison doors and the only way to do that is through changing the laws that put them there in the first place!"
"You're not wrong," Tyrell nods fervently, "But there's one more piece. We need to offer an alternative to the street: strong, solid, good-paying jobs that aren't going to disappear. Union jobs. Get our people in there, they have another way to go, and that revolving door can just keep spinning empty."
Make a Perception + Alertness DC 7 roll, number of successes will yield different information.
Brad kept his eyes open. With kindred around, anything could happen. Especially so many together. He tried not to think too much about all the interesting ways he could meet a bad end. If one kindred lost control, he was probably ok.
"You should have seen me before the diet,"Dryly, "Feel free to call me Shane if you don't think 92 fits."
"Shane." Charlotte echoes. "That does fit better. My name's Charlotte." Pausing, she looks around the room once more as it continues to fill with people. She for a moment considers them to be in an hourglass, slowly clogging up with more bodies, until it eventually is full. "Do you know any of the others here?"
After watching the prince rapidly depart, James says, It seems like things might be getting interesting already, Patrick!
As for art, I am certainly no expert, but I would love to start collecting originals. Alas, most of what I know about it comes from either Miami Vice and stuffy architecture magazines. Perhaps I could shoot for something in between?
"That ..." He gestures to the Prince, "Is our Host. I need to say hello come to think of it. The fellow over there is Morgrym Black, who owns a club I sometimes bounce for. The lady near him..." He points to Morag "Is Morag Darrow. I've seen her at the club a few times. Beyond that? I'm sure I've heard of some but faces and names don't always stick right eh?" An amused chuckle from his George Burns mask "Normally I don't give information quite so freely, but you'd figure this out anyway I'm sure and no need for me to start out the new year being a jerk. .. He watches the Prince wander towards the door. "Pardon me...i think they might be playing my song.. or at least I should be nearby."
And he moves to the door behind Modius, "Need any help, sir?" An offer.
"You're quite accustomed, it seems." Charlotte replies, feeling a twinge of jealousy. She hadn't come to an event like this before, not in the few years since she'd been turned. It was... she wasn't sure how to describe it. Other vampires, fancy clothing, chatting as if they were all normal, as if this were an every day event.
She nods as Shane begins to walk away, "Yes, right. I think I see someone I know as well." She says dryly. "Thanks, though."
As Shane walks off, she turns to Tara, ever beside her, invisible to all but her, and cocks her head slightly. "Tara, what's the word to describe this scene?" She asks. Tara replies, and Charlotte grins. "Surreal." She echoes. "Yes, that's it exactly."
Satisfied, and feeling somewhat repulsed at the same time, Charlotte debates leaving, but that's when Tara has the idea to go exploring. "It could be fun." Charlotte replies, "But also dangerou- No, I know you'd never get me into trouble." Charlotte feels a stab of guilt at this admission, and caves. She slips away from the party, and begins wandering the halls, poking her head into rooms, taking Tara's lead and searching for something more... interesting.
Morag smile brightens. "Rooms you say? Sounds lovely. Maybe you should show me whats in these rooms. I'm sure it's very interesting." She allows herself to be lead out of the main room helping the young man stay on his feet.
Patrick follows the Prince with his eyes. Well, I'll ask him when he deals with the problem. He shifts his eyes to James.
"Of course. There are a lot of styles - describing them with words is quite pointless I think, and I don't want to bore you with a lecture on the history of art. What do you say we meet some time and visit a few galleries? There's plenty of painters and artists there. You can choose which ones you like better, and I can tell you the ones with similar style."
John is sailing high on cloud nine. He vaguely hears a criticism in the back of his head that his penchant for beautiful women would always get him into trouble, but... what the hell is life for? Besides, he's sure she'll introduce him to the Prince sooner or later. And in the meantime...
as they stroll down the hall, John quips, "What a lovely way to start a new year."
Patrick, that sounds like a fine, fine idea. Contact me next week and we can decide a good night to meet up. James pulls out a case and extracts a black business card with a number printed in white. No other details adorn the card he hands to Patrick. That goes to my beeper, so contact me whenever is convenient. James flicks an eye towards the progress of the prince, where he spots a few familiar faces.
Turning back to Patrick, James says, Since circumstances have required that our host leave us behind, please allow me to take up that mantle and introduce you to a few acquaintances of mine.
"With pleasure," agrees Patrick.
He examines the card from both sides and asks, "Interesting design. Why no name?"
As James begins to slowly head towards Julian, Dalton, and Lucian, he addresses Patrick. Three reasons:
First, it's super fashionable. This font didn't even exist till last year.
Second, it's a psychological trick. By throwing down a card without a name it says, "This is a person whose name I must remember. They are important." It is the politest of dominance games.
Third, I have been trying to reduce my footprint in the mortal world. The less I spread my name around, the less I have to hide it in the years going forward. And as everything is getting computerized, I suspect that will become a harder and harder task. It may seem a bit paranoid, but by next year there will be a new card with a new font with a new number. And everything is paid for in cash.
James stops for a second to catch Patrick's eye, You do use a pseudonym for your art, right?
"Uhm..." Patrick hesitates before answering. "You made some good points. I'll think of a pseudonym." I guess it'll be good to come up with something soon...
"I didn't really think of such matters before," admits Patrick. "I guess it's better to start thinking ahead of time more, now that I'm a va..."
He cuts off, reminding himself that there are mortals at this party.
Good catch, Patrick. They take that first rule seriously. James looks around to ensure there are no listening ears. I've heard... tales of people who didn't follow the rules. The endings weren't always... storybook.
Seeing James approach with an individual he has yet to meet, Dalton thinks to himself, Great...just what I needed. F%$#in' scumbag drug dealer...
BAPTISM OF FIRE - Thursday - December 31, 1992 –
Modius’ eyes light up in recognition, ”Ah yes, come with me then”. Once Modius speaks, the men cease to pay you any attention and focus their eyes on any newcomers. He leads you into the party, a party which you are severely under-dressed for. Still, you are not the only one under-dressed.
At that moment a very tall man in of all things a George Burns mask approaches, ”Need any help sir?” he asks Modius. The Prince shakes his head declining the offer, ”At least not yet Shane. I shall let you know when I do”. Stepping past the masked giant Rick, you pass by a few men one of whom narrows his eyes at you.
He does not slow down or pause until he exits the main living/ball room and steps to the right into a small office bidding you to follow. Once the door is closed he takes a seat at his desk and gestures at a chair across from him, ”Sit or do not either way, your formal introduction if you would please”.
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As you follow the Prince you believe that you passed by perhaps the only other Kindred of note, Lucian.
Now hovering between the foyer exit and the ballroom entrance is a crowded spot and about to get more crowded as a few more faces head towards this little gathering…
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Lucian nods to James, ”Making social calls even here now eh? Allow me to introduce my Childe Dalton Michaels and Julian Prescott, owner of the Firefly”. Perhaps being here has made Lucian a bit more social? His sentences are generally shorter than that and contain much less information.
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Tyrone nods, ”Fair enough. Well count me in, I’ll do what I can to help”.
He asks, ”I only know a few people here. Modius the host seems to be a real champion of the Unions too, that why you were invited?”
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[ooc]Bradley
You are quite sure that the man entertaining all of the guests at the seat across the floor is a Kindred. You also believe that the man wearing the George Burns mask and is now speaking with a very attractive woman is a Nosferatu in disguise.
The masked man starts to head near the front entrance when you turn back the woman he was speaking to has gone!
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You and the drunken young man start to wander down the hall. He begins to give you sloppy drunken kisses and at one point when a door will not lock, presses his crotch up against you, it’s pretty clear what his intentions are and this might be the easiest mark you’ve ever encountered.
The next door you try opens…
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You head down the hall a bit, the beautiful blonde leading the way. As you hit the stairs you see another couple also sneaking down the hall, they must not know the place very well though as they are making out and trying a few doors. As you squint to try and ascertain whether one is Kindred or not, the woman next to you begins to pull you up the stairs…
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You begin to head down the hall. None seem to be paying attention to you, well to either of you.
In fact, you are moving so smoothly that those ahead of you do not seem to notice you.
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You watch as the inevitable happens, either the Kindred flock together or scatter about with prey. It’s all so… predictable.
Lucian nods to James, ”Making social calls even here now eh? Allow me to introduce my Childe Dalton Michaels and Julian Prescott, owner of the Firefly”. Perhaps being here has made Lucian a bit more social? His sentences are generally shorter than that and contain much less information.
"Patrick Bright, pleasure to meet you," introduces himself young Malkavian. "Firefly? A club, I guess?"
Tyrell nods. "Modius and I have met," he says carefully, "but I wouldn't call him a friend of the unions. An interested party, to be sure, but I'd walk carefully around him."
"Good to meet you, Patrick. You'd be wise to watch yourself around this one." Dalton says gesturing toward James. "Never know what sort of trouble he'll get you in."
[i]Upstairs is good, assuming this place doesn't crumble beneath my weight,"[i] John momentarily muses. "And to think, I was expecting Gary to be about the most boring place on Earth," he says allowing the blonde to pull him upstairs.
James smiles warmly. (i.e. no fangs) Lucian, so lovely to see you, especially in such a social setting.
If anything, his smile turns up a few notches when he turns to Dalton. No way butter would melt in that mouth. Now Dalton, you know I avoid trouble like the plague. It's bad for business.
A small bow for Julian. Mr. Prescott, I have heard good things about your establishment. I had hoped to make its acquaintance soon. How much better to meet the proprietor himself.
Tyrell slaps Tyrone's shoulder, then pulls out a card and hands it over. "Go on, grab a drink. It's supposed to be a party, after all. And if you need some help at the office, give me a call. There's an office and a pager number on there. I'm usually out of touch in the day, but if you need something after hours, I can probably help you out."
Sending the other lawyer on his way, Tyrell turns back to the room, trying to pick out the other Licks from the crowd. Just look for the ones who act like they are trapped in a Jane Austen novel. That's a start anyway.
BAPTISM OF FIRE - Thursday - December 31, 1992 –
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Tyrone nods, "Alright, I'll take you up on that offer and keep an eye on Modius. Enjoy the rest of the night, good to see you Ty". He heads back into the crowd a drink from the bar in hand. The drink appears for show as he is stone cold sober and you smelled no alcohol on his breath.
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Lucian grunts at James and looks around the room and spots a seat in the corner nearest to the door currently occupied, "I'll take a seat. Dalton, mingle". He heads to the seat and as if his ass was on the fire, the man sitting in the chair gets up and moves into the crowded dance floor.
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The woman draws you up the stairs which creak but do not break under your weight and grins, "Oh it is boring sometimes, other times, quite dangerous. No happy mediums here..."
She leads you down the hallway to a room in the middle of the house that has no windows. She enters and closes the door sits on the bed and pats the space next to her. This room is not vacant, it appears that someone lives here or at least keeps things here. Based on what is here, dresses brushes, a seat and table with vanity mirror the general make-up of what is there, it belongs to a female.
Morag smiles at the young man, and opens the door peeking in to see if the room is empty. She enters smiling flirtatiously at him. "What brings you here tonight Handsome?" She pushes him back against the door. Baring his neck she gives him the kiss. This is almost too easy. Something must be about to go wrong.
A late arrival is another fellow who looks like a dark-skinned man on the edge of middle age, a bit heavyset. He's well dressed and has small glasses, fading dark hair and an inoffensive countenance.
"Did I make it to the right place?" he says to nobody in particular as he reaches the get-together. "I swear, those sobriety checkpoints are trouble. Not to mention unconstitutional."
You are quite sure that the man entertaining all of the guests at the seat across the floor is a Kindred. You also believe that the man wearing the George Burns mask and is now speaking with a very attractive woman is a Nosferatu in disguise.
The masked man starts to head near the front entrance when you turn back the woman he was speaking to has gone!
That was odd...and odd things didn't bear letting go by unmarked. Brad knew you didn't get to live forever by being oblivious. Soon enough something would eat you.
Casually moving away from the wall he'd chosen earlier, Brad decided to change strategies. If someone else vanished in a hurry, then there might be a good reason to get away. He chose the first open door or hallway he could see and walked quietly down it, eyes open.
Hearing Lucian's command, Dalton's head briefly drops in disappointment.
"Avoid trouble like the plague? Hardly. I will give you credit for being smart about it. Never could pin you down, just your boys." Dalton says to James.
Turing his attention to Patrick and says in way of explanation, "You can say we've got a bit of a past."
Shane shakes his masked head. The Prince hadn't heard him, but he in turn had heard plenty. New blood in the area, but that's what the Prince here does...
Then someone speaks up...
"Did I make it to the right place?" he says to nobody in particular as he reaches the get-together. "I swear, those sobriety checkpoints are trouble. Not to mention unconstitutional."
"Depends on what the Right place is to you" The George Burns meets 1992 costumed individual moves his positioning.
Got to make sure I won't get caught by a crowd...one way out of the crowds. First rule you learn in the nos, always have a way out. That thought aside, he stays close enough if he can to hear out others.
Turning his attention to Patrick and says in way of explanation, "You can say we've got a bit of a past."
James continues to smile, maybe with just a bit of actual warmth in it. If you want proof that God has a sense of humor, just look around. Who would have dreamed that we would end up as part of the same organization, on the same team. I did not see that coming.
Assuming this to be her room... Huh? She has a room in the manse... She must be pretty tight with the Prince. John has a seat on the bed next to the intoxicating kindred and draws her close. With a little bit of astonishment, he asks, "Who ARE you?"
James continues to smile, maybe with just a bit of actual warmth in it. If you want proof that God has a sense of humor, just look around. Who would have dreamed that we would end up as part of the same organization, on the same team. I did not see that coming.
"Life is full of surprises," agrees Patrick. "I didn't even think that possible. Took some time to adjust. Still not completely used to it, to be honest."
Rolling his eyes a bit, Dalton says, "The same team may a bit of a stretch, James. Occasionally a common goal, I will concede."
Turning his attention back to Patrick. "I don't recall ever meeting you before. How long have you been around here?"
The new arrival chuckles at the George Burns mask. "Nice. Yeah, I'm guessin' I'm in the right place. Among kindred spirits and all."
"Exactly," He nods as the magic word is spoken, "Party banter may drive you crazy, but at least everyone gets their licks in."
After Morag and her drunken man go through the door, Charlotte listens at it, seeing Tara listen beside her. "It's rude to eavesdrop on others' pleasures." Tara points out.
"I'd pursue my own if I had any." Charlotte mutters back. Had it not sounded as though the two were pushed up against the door, she may have slipped inside to watch. As it is, she listens to the sounds behind, curious. "Food or fornication?" She asks Tara, who grins in response. "Why not both?"
Turning his attention back to Patrick. "I don't recall ever meeting you before. How long have you been around here?"
"About two years. I didn't socialize much during my stay in this town, I'm afraid. It seems I have a lot of catching up to do."
Dalton grins, "No worries, bud. It's Gary, you haven't missed much." He adds with glance toward James, "Other than a few drug deals and shootings that is."
Noticing the hulking form in costume and hearing the voice, Dalton says with a laugh, "Hey there, Shane-o. Nice mask."
Dalton grins, "No worries, bud. It's Gary, you haven't missed much." He adds with glance toward James, "Other than a few drug deals and shootings that is."
The smile on James's face doesn't flag, but it does take on a bit of a predatory gleam. Dalton, I think if you check the statistics, you'll see that the total number of shootings is actually down this year. Something about drive-bys no longer being so... in vogue. Some sort of cultural shift must be discouraging such business unfriendly tactics.
Noticing the hulking form in costume and hearing the voice, Dalton says with a laugh, "Hey there, Shane-o. Nice mask."
Turning to face the masked man, James says, You know, I never thought I would need to look up in order to gaze into the face of George Burns. Care to make an introduction, Dalton?
Marrow finishes with her snack, and makes sure there is no mark left on him. "Darling let's go back to the party. I'm sure you could use another drink." She opens the door quickly, and finds a young woman on the other side of it. "I'm sorry." not sounding sorry at all, "Was this your room? I didn't mean to intrude. My friend and I needed a quiet place to..er...chat."