Stryker offers a condescending grin and a nod at Calliope's greeting.
Toreador "elder's" eyes widen and Jack's story about Jackson and the werewolf. "A broadsword and a werewolf? Where on earth did you hear such a ridiculous story? I have no doubts Prince Jackson is formidable in a fight, but given his past, I don't think a broadsword would really be his style."
That's a shame - but I don't need any toxic BS. Bouncing to the beat again, K scans the crowd for potential dance partners while keeping half an eye on Stryker.
I guess if you live forever being that good-looking, you're bound to wind up a bit of a dick.
"And you?" Sandpaper on soft wood. "What did your Regent have to say?"
Now, whether that plays a part in the Prince's less than favorable view upon our Friend K, or whether his vendetta is more personal, was not made clear to me. Based on that information, I am much less inclined to bring him to the meeting with us or have him attend at all.
A loss of prestige aside, as I have none in this city yet anyway, he may look for K's head right then and there".
Ladislav looks to his master, "Will there be anything else this evening, master? If not, I will take my leave. Good evening Mr. Amarius."
Seeing K step away, Stryer chides, "Oh where's the little baby wannabe going? Boohoo, the mean older kids are picking on me." he adds with a condescending laugh.
Portia, an unearthly beauty herself and the current owner of the club, enters the room and that is enough to make Stryker leave your side and go to her side. "Ta ta kiddies. Better keep a leash on your pet."
Edwin turns back to Alexander, "Perhaps among your Clan there is also a story to be teased out?"
"He has a very punchable face," She comments, shooting a sympathetic look at K. She had, indeed, been clenching and unclenching her right hand as Stryker had sashayed away. "But we did get some information, at least...some we take with a grain of salt, given the source, but still." The Toreador shrugs a tad, resting one tattooed hand on her hip as she regards the other two.
"You both are so spicy," She says, the grin crossing her face holding a very brief predatory edge before fading off into what passed for normalcy. "Just your existing rattled the man."
"It's strange," Jack says, "that we should bother him so. I mean, he's basically in his 60's at this point, and here he is trying to bully someone who hasn't even been a vampire half a decade at this point. It really says more about him than it does K." He declines to reply to Calliope's comment about himself, but does find that he is secretly somewhat flattered.
"I could look around, see if there are any other kindred about our age around here. For whatever reason they seem to like me. Or we could call Edwin, see if he found anything out, head on back. Stryker has put me in a bad mood, and he's probably the best information we're going to get tonight."
"Why not both?" She proposes to Jack, pulling out her phone to check for any messages from their other coterie-mates. "You look about, I can call Edwin."
She waves at K to grab the thin-blood's attention, gesturing broadly at the crowd. "Best stick with one of us," She cautions. "Bret's attitude isn't a unique one."
"If you're down to mingle, Jack, I'll be your wingman." K takes off his cheap plastic shades, replacing them with cheap aviator-style sunglasses.
"Let's Cruise."
Alexander considered his clanfolk. Those he knew of, anyway...
Edwin answers the call as he recognizes the number, though he is still very much not used to the idea of being reached so easily, "Calliope, I am with Alexander. I believe a discussion between us all is warranted, in person. It sounds as if you are still out based on the background din.
We are in a safe place".
"Sounds good. We'll be there ASAP." Calliope grins into the phone, aware of the age difference between them, and pitches her voice high and valley-girl: "Byyyyyyyyyyeee!" She hangs up, waving at Jack and K.
When the three are reunited, the Toreador relays what Edwin told her. "Wanna get an Uber or see if that car is still around, K?"
Edwin hears the phone disconnect and place it down on the table turning to Alexander, "They shall return soon".
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Grimm, your sire, is a technological magician, able to utilize his computer skills to find just about anything on any computer.
Grimm's sire, Wauneka, is the eyes and ears of the streets of Chicago.
Wauneka's sire, Cedric Calhoun, is well known for being the man you go to when you have to know something, although it usually comes at a significant cost.
Finally, there is Khalid, Cedric's Sire, and the Nosferatu Primogen councilor - if anyone is to know what this Elysium is about, it would be Khalid - but geeting an audience with him has become difficult these nights.
Rather than continue to potentially get themselves into trouble at the Succubus Club, Calliope, K, and Jack call up an Uber - after discovering the car K had previously swiped was not where he had left it. Some thirty minutes later, you are at the front door of your coterie's communal haven.
Calliope scans her key fob to get in and pushes open the door, holding the door briefly for Jack and K to follow. Upon entering, Calliope offers Edwin and Alexander a smile and plops heavily down onto one of the couches. "We heard some rumblings--nothing too unexpected, I think. K - and thin bloods in general - aren't well-loved by anyone, especially not our new Prince. Neither is poor Jack here, with his bloodline and all. What did your Regent have to say?"
"Nothing good.
At least not for K.
The Prince is propped up, quite directly, by the remnants of the Camarilla's Inner Circle. It is not clear to me if the Prince has a personal vendetta against the so-called thin-blooded, or whether the Inner Circle itself has the vendetta.
I do not believe that K should be in the presence of the Prince as I am unclear of how he would react and whether that reaction would impact the rest of us.
The Regent has encouraged me, vehemently, to Blood Bond K. Naturally, I agreed to do so. K has certainly imbibed my, if not everyone's, vitae and is therefore, at least partially bound to us all in one way or another.
Among our Coterie the question is, can we agree to a narrative that K is indeed Blood Bound to me? This may shield him from harm by the Prince, if he believes that I have taken him on as an... ah experiment. Though it may instead out me in direct harm's way for having done so.
Thoughts?"
Jack remains standing in a corner. "How does K feel about all this? Seems a little shaky if you ask me. He's got as much of a right as the rest of us to be there. Even mentioned to me before that he wants to 'prove himself' to vampire society. Now I can't speak as to [u]why[/u] he'd want that, seeing as they're all a bunch of SOBs, present company included. But K's one of ours. Anyone tries to force him into doing something he doesn't want to do, they answer to me." Jack cracks his knuckles; his cotarie mates have seen before what they can do to even vampiric flesh. It's unusual for him to stick his neck out for someone else, but the cotarie hasn't encountered too much conflict before this. Perhaps his bond with them went deeper than they had anticipated."Anyone," he repeats, with a meaningful stare around the room, "Even you Edwin."
Edwin chuckles, "I'm sure that speech will go well in front of open Court tomorrow my friend.
Give it a try.
Tell me K, what are your thoughts on the matter?"
As the atmosphere begins to tense, Calliope leans forward and begins to undo the braid her hair was in, idly running her fingers through the thick waterfall of hair while she listened. She glances at K, then back at the others, one eyebrow quirking over her glasses while she considers the unfolding events.
"It certainly is obnoxious to be discussed as though you aren't there." She nods to K, awaiting his input while she tosses her loose hair over her shoulders to drape along the couch.
Edwin turns to Calliope, "K is part of the Coterie thus I address him as well as the rest of you.
Our time here and together thus far has been pleasant, it may become decidedly unpleasant soon if we take a misstep.
Alexander seeks a exit from tomorrow's meeting. Jack a fight. K acceptance. I am not clear on what you seek Calliope, perhaps proper manners? I seek the status quo. This is not a game, the Prince was a dangerous Mortal now he is a dangerous immortal wielding immense power with the backing of those so old I do not believe any of us can quite comprehend how ancient they truly are. This is not a game, this is a very real threat".
Calliope quirks an eyebrow at Edwin's monologue, bewildered by the vehemence. "Not sure why you think your attitude is appropriate, darling," She drawls, stretching on the couch. "My comment wasn't a personal attack on you or anyone. I understand that you're feeling tense, but I'm not in the mood to being lectured at." Calliope stares at Edwin for a moment, her gaze expressionless, before she turns back to K with a smile, awaiting the thin-blood's input.
K finally looks up from his phone and notices the tense vibe. "Hey, let's all just take a breath, yeah? Or else they've, like, already won, y'know?" He takes his earpods out and keeps his hands up, gesturing to accentuate his words. "I need to drink from one of you guys to be at full power anyways. If doing the bond thing makes our lives easier with the powers-that-be, I'm down for it."
He looks around the circle of his coterie family. "I trust all of you, one hundred percent."
Edwin shakes his head at Calliope, "It's not a lecture, it's a warning.
To say that the Regent has ice water running through his veins is an understatement. He toyed with the idea of presenting K to the Prince as a gift, courtesy of Clan Tremere!
Your bravado notwithstanding Jack, I'm not certain our assembled Coterie could stop him and whatever Gargoyle minions he would bring to bear. The Regent doesn't have half the resources the Prince does should he wish to punish us for what he perceives as a transgression of Camarilla law.
So yes, if I appear and sound tense, it's because I am tense. Quite frankly, I am also a bit fearful. Fearful for my own existence and for our collective existence.
K is correct, we need to stick together, so I shall sublimate my own ego and apologize if I have allowed my Beast to let loose upon those few Cainites who have ever showed an inkling of interest in my well being.
I apologize". Edwin pauses turns to Jack and then to Calliope, then turns to K.
"Less an actual bond and more of the illusion that you are bonded to me. Becoming bound to me directly may upset the harmony in the Coterie. All that matters is that you appear so bound.
The Regent I believe will back my "play" in bonding you as an asset for Clan Tremere.
Once more, I am skeptical about you actually attending as I do not wish to drag you into the mouth of the dragon to be devoured".
To swallow one's pride even when one believes they are right takes inner strength. Follow Edwin's example [redacted], if one day you wish to lead you will need all the strength you can get.
"I also apologize. I escalated the situation. Sometimes I forget that you have not all led as easy an unlife as myself, and are not blessed with the same durability and strength as myself. K, being the youngest of us in both body and actual years lived, as well as being the closest to being mortal makes me protective of him. Edwin your wisdom is invaluable here, and I defer to your insight."
Jack ponders for a minute, then adds "My threat still stands, but do know that I would do the same for you Edwin. None of us should force their will upon another of us." His face takes a harder note. "Save the force for everyone else, no?"
"Once more, I am skeptical about you actually attending as I do not wish to drag you into the mouth of the dragon to be devoured".
”I appreciate your concern, Mr. Wagner - all of you - but I don’t see how I’m gonna earn a place in the big C by hiding from the folks in charge? Especially since I’m, like, already on file.” K pulls down his shirt collar, exposing his unhealing brand. ”I’d think not showing up might be worse, y’know? How’s it gonna look if I turned myself over to the old bosses, but just ghost the new ones? Wouldn’t that be a total dis?”
Calliope nods at Edwin's apology, offering none of her own in return. The rich girl sense of entitlement runs deep.
"Anyone who would threaten any and all of us..." The Toreador bares her teeth a moment, nodding in agreement with her coterie. "Hopefully Mateo agrees. My sire is...well...touchy." She cringes, remembering the outburst about the Prince in general. "He is not at all supportive of the Prince's grab for power. Edwin, your Regent probably has a better handle on the situation."
"An illusion of a bond isn't a bad idea. What does Tremere gain from the illusion?"
"K is an oddity in the eyes of older Kindred.
What knowledge can be extracted from being around and studying K, that's the Tremere angle, always about acquiring knowledge. Runs to the core for me as well.
All Clans have their spheres of influence shall we say? Most of us, whether to a greater or lesser extent fit the generalization of our Clans.
Toreador would likely have never embraced me much like the Tremere would not have embraced Calliope.
Thus, if K is bound to me, then Clan Tremere has a reason to request that our "property" not be merely taken by the Prince as K would be a Tremere asset".
Stone-faced, silent, until tensions abate.
"I suggest we attend," a cat's whisper, "under whatever pretense makes the group most comfortable. My sire believes Prince Jackson wants to make sure everyone 'bends the knee.' Krzysztof showing up might anger him. I think his absence definitely will."
Feeble shrug. "If the Prince even notices."
"Makes sense," Calliope comments to Edwin, relaxing into her seat on the couch a little more.
"I agree with attending. I think K's desire to prove himself worthy may help cushion any offense his presence might bring. Plus, there's all of us..." She trails off, letting the others fill in the blank implication with their own thoughts.
"Yeah, let's do this thing!" K exclaims, enthusiastic and smiling.
Edwin nods, "Very well, with us you shall come. Enter close by me and defer tome when I speak. That should be enough to give the appearance that you are in my thrall.
Let's hope we, or is it me only, are simply worrying for nothing".
Having decided that taking K along is the best option, the coterie realizes that dawn is fast approaching. Going off to their separate locations to embrace the darkness of near death for the day, the coterie awaits tomorrow night.
Hmmm. Hungrier than last night. I should feed, but there's no time. Damn the ventrue and their palates of glass. Sometimes I wish I could grab a blood-bag like the others.
Rouse
Edwin rises feeling rather peckish, before this meeting, whatever it may entail, he decides to see out a member of his Herd, It would not be wise to approach this night any less than in complete control...
Checks watch. Damn. Little choice but to sleep here. A nod goodnight. Slow walk to his bedchamber. More bedcloset.
Folding cot, thin mattress, tight sheet. No pillow. Clothing rack: Dockers, button-downs, rain jacket; pastels. A suit and tie, bagged, with dress shoes. Underneath: sneakers, tube socks, travel kit. Night stand: lamp, land line, mechanical alarm clock. All in 6 by 10 'room.'
Alexander sets alarm, one minute past dawn. Slips under sheet. No need to untuck: thin in life, now emaciated. Toothpick arm reaches out, pulls lamp chain.
Awake. Lamp chain. Alarm turned off before it triggers. Slip out from under sheet. No need to remake bed.
I suppose some formality befits the occasion. Suit bag unzipped, contents carefully laid out on cot. He dresses. Movements slow, intentional. White a-shirt, striped boxers, black socks with garters. White dress shirt, starched collar, red tie. Navy pants, black suspenders. Navy jacket, red pocket square. Shoes, patent leather, black.
When done, he pulls the lamp chain, leaves, shutting door behind him. Makes way to haven communal room.
"I left plans to the pier," a dry leaf across pavement, "in the library. If misfortune should befall us, escape to the nearest service tunnel may be in order." He tells each associate as he sees them, save Edwin, whom he conferred with the night before. "I'll be bringing copies with me, of course. In case memory doesn't serve."
Calliope slips away, making it to her own Haven in the nick of time. The Toreador rests in high thread count sheets, a thick comforter weighing her down in a comfortable embrace. Her bedroom looks like something out of the Addam's family home. Cleaner, though. Less dusty, at least. One of her partially-finished paintings is on an easel at the foot of her bed, her palette and brushes resting on a small table alongside it.
Crash! Vivid blue eyes flutter open at the ruckus in her apartment. Nighttime, but barely. Her alarms hadn't gone off yet. Three minutes before, as per usual with George. The vampiress grumbles with annoyance and sits up slowly, swinging her legs out and into her slippers to investigate the source of the sound.
Her sleepy eyes find her paints splattered on the floor, palette face down, and brushes strewn across the floor. She heaves a sigh and picks up her things, not bothering to clean up the paints for the time being. "Thanks for that, George. Very helpful."
In preparation for the night to come, Calliope dons a floor-length, form fitting velvet gown that creates the illusion of curves that just aren't there on her gaunt, tattooed form. A lace collar around her neck, elbow-length gloves, and wedge-heeled boots completes her dress. She wears elegant, smoky-eyed makeup, not bothering with powders or foundations--her skin, in death, is perfect, something that inordinately pleases the vain creature.
About an hour and a half after waking, she finds herself sweeping into their communal Haven, just having finished firing off a text to Mateo. 'Meet you there.' He'd let her know if he was displeased with the notion.
"Great idea, Alexander." She replies, raking her gaze up and down the emaciated Nosferatu. "You clean up well."
K stays over at the church for the sake of convenience - it's where he keeps most of his stuff anyways.
The thin-blood wakes up the next evening craving a snack, but pushes it off. He showers, gels and styles his hair, and gets dressed - a classic white t-shirt tucked into a pair of white acid-wash jeans, with his lucky yellow-laced high top Ponys for shoes. He keeps his Chicago Red Hot jacket for the evening. A little home-town pride can't hurt, right? His good pair of shades complete his look.
He saunters into the library checking his phone, but perks up at the old man's comments and looks over the assorted blueprints.
"Very cool," he says appreciatively. He takes a couple pictures with his phone for later reference before smiling at everyone there.
"Glad to see I'm not the only one who got dressed up!"
"Are we gonna uber over? Or should I go out and grab something?"
Nod to Calliope. "As do you," the rustle of cerecloth, "Ms. Marchette."
Wince at K's suggestion. "I can call a taxi. Or Edwin's man can drive us."