Julian takes in the spectacle with amusement, then moves over to Dalton Rick and Lucian. "Um, any idea what all of that was about?"
"Power play... " Shane says
"Oh. This should be interesting. Asny idea who will come out on top? My money is on the Prince."
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Randolph slowly stands and says, "Kinda think you don't wanna be in the middle of."
BAPTISM OF FIRE - Friday - January 1, 1993 –
Juggler laughs at , "Temper, temper pal. This is Elysium after all. A good little follower like you wouldn't want to break the rules of the Prince now would he?"
---
Allicia places a hand on John's forearm, "I would leave it alone. Juggler has a lot of friends in the rust belt..."
---
The girl grins at question and whispers into his ear,
---
The rest of the Neonates remain silent as the line in and out of Modius' office moves rather rapidly. It seems he is not killing anyone tonight though you all suspect heavy use of dominate...
Lucian and the stranger with no mortals around to entertain also remain mum.
---
Tyrone begins to move towards the room as all of the Mortals do, standing in line at the closed door waiting their turn to enter. They exit soon enough happy looks on their faces though a bit glassy eyed.
Juggler says nothing further and waits for Modius the same as the rest of you.
---
Modius exits his office more composed than when he entered. He stares at the raven haired girl next to James sighing, "You, come with me".
Juggler then stands, "Oh I think she should stay to hear whatever windbag nonsense your senile brain wishes to infect the rest of our ears with".
Modius sneers at Juggler, "All talk little punk all talk. If you wish my crown take it. I stand here before you..."
Juggler raises his hands, "I mean she should stay she is an honored guest you should be welcoming to this gathering, she is after all, one of us now!"
Modius' eyes narrow with barely controlled rage, "Who gave you permission to Sire her?"
"Dear Master of the realm, why so glum? Is she not an exquisite creature? Such a well sculpted beauty is so rare to find these days and with a spirit to match!"
"You avoid my question because you know the answer. You low life piece of garbage! It is by my own will you exist here when Lodin himself would slay you and your pitiful little band of "anarchs".
You have no cause to fight for other than a desire to be different which is at its core no different than any other member of the Camarilla! All you do is scream louder but you have little of value to say and less of value to stand for. I should slay you where you stand..."
Kent just keeps the scowl on his face, then pokes Juggler sharply in the chest with one finger. "You make some dangerous assumptions," he growls, then turns to leave. "I play this game enough to not rock the boat, that's it. You come in here and start stirring sh*t up, it makes my life difficult. You're pushing your luck." Kent then stalks off, cracking his knuckles to take his mind off the obnoxious guest. When Modius emerges, he hopes it's about time to leave before Juggler pipes up again. Kent bites his tongue for the most part, but finally speaks up when Juggler mentions violence.
"Oh, shut your mouth, you slimy little whelp. I'm tired of you running your mouth. If you think you have the power to do anything of consequence, you'd do it. But you don't. You won't start a fight in Elysium, because you know you'll lose. You come here and make threats in Elysium because you know no one expects you to follow through. You can get away with it, and look like a big-shot." Kent stops for a moment, feeling his mouth twist into a snarl. His face twitches for a moment before he calms himself a bit, feeling his roiling vitae settle within him. Still, his fingers twitch as if his claws wanted to erupt from beneath his skin without his input. "You want to prove you're not all talk? Take five steps outside that door, and you can show everyone you mean business. Otherwise, shut up and quit your posturing. I'm sick of it." Kent rolls his shoulders, and steps forward once with his arms spread. "What'll it be? You going to put your money where your mouth is, or crawl away with your tail between your legs?"
'Good job, Kent... you barely know who this guy is. He might be able to rip your heart out of your chest. So much for curbing your temper...'
As Morgrym walks in and hears all the tit for tat he says someone else said those words most elequently to paraphrase... the world is a stage and we poor actors in it... you know... full of sound and fury, signifying nothing? Your breaking of multiple traditions Juggler as well as the masquerade itself deserves nothing less then a blood hunt. Dear prince, declare the blood hunt on this fool before he gets us all killed by being sire without permission alone he deserves it.
Noting the escalation between Kent and Juggler, Dalton moves over toward the pair, ready to jump in to separate them if need be.
Tyrell can feel the Beast rising again, and for a moment he stands on the razor's edge between blood fury and Rotschreck, frozen and largely unable to react to outside events. Again, he manages to wrestle down the frenzy, but he knows it will take a miracle to stop it a third time tonight. I should get out of here... but I need to know how this ends! He drops back to stand against a corner, staring at Modius.
"Mmm not sure you want to start the new year on that note." Shane says but it comes with a shrug. If a blood hunt is called, so be it.
John can't help but quietly chuckle.
"All we need now is Vince McMahon. I can get him on the phone if you like? He loves a show-man."
He unbuttons his jacket to give him more room to move should the need arise.
Randolph says to Shane with a chuckle, "Yeah, this is shaping up to be a great way to make new enemies."
Uh-oh. That sounds worse with every moment. Patrick stands up from the chair and glances at the exit. This is Elysium, nothing will happen, right?
He stays silent, as he has a feeling it would better for him not to speak. At least for now.
Rick stands again. "Well, not much I can add that the others haven't said. No one likes a douche-bag." He is standing on the side of those who oppose the Jester, but not within arm's reach of them.
He's trash. Brad slipped over to join the others against the Juggler, but didn't quite get in arm's reach. He didn't hide his disgust. Old wrestling moves kept popping into his head and he forced them down with the reminder that wrestling had strict rules and he wouldn't have surprise or disciplines to easily get the drop on a kindred with. Well, possibly the disciplines...
"You risked the lives of everyone here tonight," Brad said, his tone measured. It wasn't wise to make an enemy...but there was no way this thing could be an ally. "You are very fortunate that we hold ourselves to a higher standard." He glared at the Juggler with the look his coaches taught him to use for the opposing wrestler.
Of course, if the Prince did order a blood hunt...that might be useful.
Morag sniffs with disdain at Juggler. "Your actions almost opened us up to investigation tonight. Why would you put the Masquerade at risk like this?"
The girl grins at James' question and whispers into his ear...
James whispers back, "I would hang back out of the line of fire between those two. Juggler is an ass, but a smart one. I hope he gets around to unveiling whatever surprise he thinks will make up for the scene he made here tonight. Man, he has really stepped in it this time."
His eyes suddenly snap back to Juggler and then back to the girl. His whispers take on an urgent tone, "Unless Juggler has decided to break with the prince right here... Do you have any idea what he has planned?
Shane would be happy to see Juggler get his, but right now fuel to already risky situations doesn't appeal. Crap. No anarch recruitment in this crowd it seems.
BAPTISM OF FIRE - Friday - January 1, 1993 –
The woman whispers back to James,
Juggler grins at the mayhem he has stirred up as he twirls a cigarette lighter in his hand, as the Neonates gang up on him he remains silent as do the Prince and the other Elders present in the room.
After some time in brooding silence the tension so thick it brings the Beast to the edge of your consciousness, Modius sighs and stares intently at Juggler, "I shall not declare a Blood Hunt on you today Juggler. You see now the extent of my reach within my Domain yes? Make such a mistake again and you will find several hungry Kindred willing, and I can only assume, able to take that which is most precious from you.
As far as your Childe, I trust that you have taught her of the Traditions despite your lack of protocol here tonight?"
Juggler stands and grins, "Excellent, so you welcome her and she is one of us now". He looks at Kent, "As far as being a tough guy..." he begins to stride to the front door but pauses as through the window he and you all see a pristine white Limousine pull up.
A driver hustles around from the driver's seat to open the door to a woman who makes those present at the party pale in comparison, it is a cold unearthly beauty that no living being could possible achieve. She steps out of the limo wearing no jacket but long white gloves and a holding some sort of letter. No breath exits from her mouth despite the cold of the night.
As she begins to approach the door, Juggler turns and grabs for Evelyn's hand grinning at James as he pulls her away with a speed that outmatches that which he achieved earlier in the evening and heads down into the long hallway a blur.
The burly men guarding the front door begin to bow their heads to her saying nothing as she reaches the door and presses the doorbell.
Modius' servant opens the door and also bows his head damn near taking a knee as she enters. Her gaze sweeps the room slowly taking you all in. She gestures to the servant who closes the door and scuttles out of the room.
You all feel her overwhelming Presence as if its weight crushes your very will. A glance at Lucian and the other Elder present shows that they are somehow resisting it but even Modius himself seems to struggle against it.
Then the weight is lifted and the woman speaks, "Happy New Year my dear. Quite the crowd you have this night".
Modius nods, "Indeed, it is..." He then pauses and stops to kiss her cheek. She takes his hand and saying nothing further, leads him once more into his office closing the door behind them.
Lucian mutters, "More secrets, always secrets".
Michael turns to Charlotte who is still holding his hand, "Who was that pretty Lady and where did Juggler go? He's funny but I never see him Juggle..."
Once more, the Prince has left the main rom of his home full of Kindred, this time with nary a Mortal in sight as the servants have all shuffled off elsewhere and the guests been sent home.
The Elder who still has yet to give his name stands, "I suppose as we are all here alone now I can drop the façade..." His handsome face vanishes and in its place is one that is wretched with too sharp features, long fangs protrude from his mouth, and patches of disgusting hair cover his face in an odd manner. "Greeting to you all, I am Alexander Danov, a no-prize for the one who guesses at the origins of my blood".
Uh oh...Modius looks scared that can't be good. Dalton thinks to himself as the woman enters the room.
Dalton takes a careful look at the commanding woman, trying to place where he has seen her before.
Looking to his sire, Dalton asks, "Annabelle Triabell, right? What would make her come to Gary? Just slumming tonight?"
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Charlotte gives Michael's hand an involuntary squeeze as the woman passes by, shaking her head once she's out of sight. "No one you need concern yourself with, little brother. One of our cousins has come to visit... unexpectedly."
At the mention of the Juggler, Charlotte smiles. "That is his magic." She says, cryptically. "Most people cannot see what he juggles." She cocks her head, trying to think of an appropriate metaphor for Michael.
"It's like a magic eye poster." she hears Tara say to her.
"Yes." Charlotte agrees, thinking that is indeed a good metaphor. She always could count on Tara for things like that. "You have to know where to look, and what to look for. Not everyone can do it."
"Modius got juggled. Hard." Tara says with a snicker. Ignoring her now, Charlotte squeezes Michael's hand again. "I'm sure he would be pleased that you like him, all the same. We-" she pauses as the elder stands and introduces himself, before smiling. "More cousins have come to join our party."
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Morag looks thoughtful. He's afraid of her. I wonder who she is.
She nods in greeting at Mr. Danov. "Honored to meet you. I'm afraid I haven't been in the Masquerade long enough to know everyone I should. You included. Can you tell us who that was?" she moves closer to him. "My clan is of course the venerable Ventrue."
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Isn't that Annabelle Triabell, Toreador Primogen? I remember Lateland mentioning her. And Modius seems to fear her. That can't be good.
Patrick approaches Mr. Danov and Morag. "Pleasure to meet you. I too am young, but I heard from my Sire about her. What's a Primogen of Chicago doing here?"
Morgrym notes the man in the hat, note the fear and recognizes Annabelle so gives her a nod as she passes.
After the prince departs Morgrym says
the prince has an announcement still to come and will appreciate those who stay until after these unexpected issues are handled
And then he will slide back into his corner.
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Julian nods to Dalton and Lucian. "That is her. and did you see the look on Modius's face when she arrived? To be a fly on the wall in that room.."
Dalton nods. "Yeah, he looked plenty pissed for sure."
John is sorely disappointed at not being in on kicking Juggler's butt up between his ears, but he knows full-well that it needs to be a sanctioned thing if it isn't self-defense. Ah, well, it isn't my party.
And then SHE walks in. His instinctive Hubba, hubba is quickly silenced by her raw presence.
John doesn't have much experience with kindred politics, but even he knows one of the Primogens of Chicago. He instinctively bows his head as she passes by.
He turns to Alicia. "Does she always attend these parties? Modius didn't look too happy to have her here."
BAPTISM OF FIRE - Friday - January 1, 1993 –
Lucian looks up at from his chair, "Politics no doubt. Modius will surely let us know more than he should once she leaves, it is his way".
---
Michael looks at with some level of understanding though not complete understanding and grins, "Wow".
---
Danov responds to , "Yes, that was Annabelle Triabell the Toreador Primogen of Chicago. As far as what she is doing here it is certainly not simply attending the party. You will find that everyone, almost everyone, of the Kindred want something. Discovering what that something for each of us becomes the means the Prince, or would be Prince, utilizes to gain control and through that control power.
I resist all such attempts and have for some time. I believe it was one of the Founder's of this Nation that stated, 'beware of entangling alliances' solid advice".
---
Lucian observes Danov speaking to some of the younger Kindred and nods to to look in that direction but says nothing further.
---
Alicia approaches Iron John placing a hand on his arm, "Once Modius completes that meeting no doubt he will make an announcement, one that I believe involves you. Be ready".
Brad wanted nothing more than to run, until [i]the woman[i] hit him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been...influenced that way and was relieved when she passed, though he made sure to duck his head politely as she did. The gesture came far too easily.
"It was George Washington that said that, sir," Brad supplied, glad for the distraction. "A wise man."
Whatever the Prince wanted, Brad could not find out and be clear of this place soon enough.
Randolph rubs his forehead like a man in the habit of wiping away a bead of nervous sweat, though of course as one of the Kindred sweat isn't in his repertoire.
Rick walks over to the area Danov is conversing in, and listens to what he is saying.
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Between the whirlwind departure of Juggler and his new childe and the most memorable arrival of a major Chicago power player, James is momentarily non-plussed. After a moment, James mutters to himself, "This place is ready to explode both figuratively and literally"
He decides to make the best of the situation and wanders over to the group around Danov. When there is an appropriate moment, he introduces hiself, "Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Danov. I'm James Sheridan."
John figures HE IS here to meet the major players, so he steps over and introduces himself to the Nosferatu, with Alicia hanging onto his arm.
"Mr. Danov. John Anderson, Iron John to my friends." He also introduces himself to the rest of the kindred gathered around.
"Where are my manners. My apologies, I don't mean to seem rude. Nice to meet y'all. Hopefully we won't have too many more shake-ups this evening. I'd like to start the New Year on a sweet note," he says, giving Alicia's hand a little squeeze.
"Speaking of avoiding trouble, anyone know who the fella with the fedora is outside?"
Greeting to you all, I am Alexander Danov
If no mortals are about, he removes his mask, revealing a grotesque face with a great deal of scar tissue, and gazes upon the older Nosferatu with bulbous eyes and slit pupils "Shane Driscoll, childe of Jara Dory. And I'm thinking we're in the same club, just a guess... a hunch." Despite his joking easy going manner, he does incline his head and his tone is respectful "Any clan brother who quotes Stan Lee is okay by me."
Tyrell looks around the room, seeing Annabelle walk in, then swears to himself. Calling upon the power of his Blood, he too sprints after Juggler down the hallway.
BAPTISM OF FIRE - Friday - January 1, 1993 –
BAPTISM OF FIRE - Friday - January 1, 1993 –
Danov nods, "Oh I know who you are Mr. Sheridan.
Ah yes Jara, poor girl, how are you getting along Shane? I know that her motives behind breeding are often, ah careless.
George Washington a wise man? An opportunist yes but wise? Perhaps or perhaps not, it depends on what stories are told about him. The tall tales of history favor certain narratives of the man, whether the truth of those narratives are accurate is another matter. Cunning is the impression I had of him in our interactions and certainly a visionary".
Mr. Anderson, I do confess I am not familiar with you..."
At John's statement Lucian stands up and heads to the window and looks out. As he does so, the headlights flash on and the car begins to back away...
---
As Danov speaks and Lucian observes, the door to Modius' room slams open. In his hand is a piece of parchment. Annabelle's white gloved hands are empty as she exits the room following Modius.
"He has no right to demand these things, no right at all! U refuse to respond to this...this... this is outrageous!"
Annabelle's presence is not nearly as overwhelming as when she first entered. She calmly approaches Modius and takes both his hands, "You must and you will respond remember the agreement at the Conclave. How you do of course, is up to you. I am merely the messenger in this". She scans the room looking at each and every face, "A pleasure to see you all this evening".
She then walks out into the cold night air.
Modius crumples up the note and stuffs it in his pocket. He then turns around to regard the room beginning to calm down, "I had hoped this night would be a joyous occasion. For this night we have a special guest. A Mr. John Anderson of Clan Ventrue. Mr. Anderson's allies in Indianapolis are on the ground floor of a venture to bring gambling to Gary Indiana. The Mortal real estate mogul Donald Trump is backing the project so it will at least have name recognition if not success due to his involvement. However, those of us here on the ground will be able to make of it what we will!
Of course, it appears that Lodin has heard of this opportunity as well. No doubt he seeks to thwart any success or claim it as his own!
We must stand against him and I know you will all stand with me.
However, there is a complication, that complication is that Lodin has requested, nay demanded, that the Neonates of Gary present themselves to him. You see, he is under the delusion that Gary belongs to him. While I would vehemently oppose him unless and until this deal comes to pass, I shall be economically and politically weaker than Lodin.
Therefore, I will ask some of you to deliver my response to Lodin in person. As for the rest of you, I have another task for you all to perform which I shall speak of once the emissaries to Chicago leave. Now, who among you will represent Gary?"
Dalton glances back toward Modius. "I'll go..that's home anyway."
Seeing an opportunity to find some place in kindred society Julian jumps at the chance. "The Windy City! I have a weakness for new places and people. Count me in prince Modius, it would be my pleasure."
"They call it the Windy City because it blows. Fitting we should go to meet a windbag. I'll go."
Ah yes Jara, poor girl, how are you getting along Shane? I know that her motives behind breeding are often, ah careless.
"I haven't seen her in awhile to be honest, she... well, she's still on my mind." And more. "So you may know better than I. As for her reasons, wouldn't be the first woman I've annoyed."
Therefore, I will ask some of you to deliver my response to Lodin in person. As for the rest of you, I have another task for you all to perform which I shall speak of once the emissaries to Chicago leave. Now, who among you will represent Gary?"
"Diplomacy is not my strong suit, my prince. I am curious as to the other task though. " He's got more irons in the fire than I thought. Not all by choice, clearly
Why not volunteer. I'm clearly of the best clan, and would represent Gary well. Morag opens her mouth to volunteer to represent Gary in Chicago. Wait. I don't think I want to appear before Lodin me an unapproved childe. That could very well be the end of my life.
She closes her mouth and waits to see what the other opportunity is.
I'm not sure Lateland asked for Lodin's permission when he Embraced me. Patrick silently watches the others. And it seems, there are already four volunteers. I think I'll pass the trip to Chicago.
"We should volunteer." Tara whispers to Charlotte.
"What? No. Why?" She replies, tearing her eyes from Modius to look at the girl next to her, still looking the same as when she died. Of course, that statement applied to Charlotte herself, too.
Tara rolls her eyes. "Come on. It'd be fun! We could use a vacation."
With a groan, thinking she'd probably regret it, Charlotte raises a hand. "We'll go." She says quietly.
Sounds like it's time to meet my Grandsire. "I will represent you in Chicago, my lord. Perhaps the bonds of clan Ventrue will be of some assistance."
Brad gave Modius a respectful nod, but declined to volunteer himself.
If I went back to Chicago without leave... He was told to stay until asked back and he hadn't been asked. Not by the person who counted.