ST Talomyr's page

"Hey, you lookin' to join up?" the young man getting out of the car asks as he walks toward you (and presumedly the door).

What do you do?

Give me an Intelligence + Politics Difficulty 8.

"Well, that was an exciting start to our date." Statia says with a smile, grabbing onto your arm.

What would you like to do now?

Neil Russo - thrall of Annabelle

"No one told me anything about that." the guard says, going to his radio.

"Hey Marvin, you know anything about a private tour tonight?" the guard says into his radio

A few too many seconds later, the radio crackles to life. "Oh shit Willis, sorry about that. Yeah, Russo called earlier and left a name for a tour tonight. Who do ya got?"

A little less on edge after hearing there actually was a private tour tonight, Willis looks at you. "And you are?"

"Kinda." she says with a sheepish grin. "Just not used to having a driver pick me up for a date with someone else...this is a date, right?" Statia asks, somewhat unsure of herself.

With the conversation turning a direction Ladislav would rather not be present for quickly gets back in the car following your suggestion of coffee or dinner. "Of course, sir.

Not pressing for a answer right this moment, Statia takes your arm as you enter the museum.

Once inside a guard approaches you. "Sorry folks, we're closed. Not sure why that door was unlocked. Sorry about that."

The lights are on in one of the second floor units as you approach.
Ollie - that would Trevor's apartment.

Some 30 minutes later, you arrive at Joey's building.

[ooc]Joey, feel free to describe the outside of the building.[ooc]

Calling for a ride of your own, you make your way to the Museum of Contemporary Art. You arrive before Ladislav and Statia and wait outside the closed museum for their arrival. As the ten o'clock hour arrives, so does Ladislav and your date for the evening.

"Hey, why didn't you ride along tonight?" Statia asks, getting out of the car.

Ladislav steps out of the car long enough to give a questioning look, inquiring if he is waiting here for the two of you.

Bronwyn's mouth forms into a sly grin. "Darling, most of our kind are interested in real estate in one way or another. What sort of real estat are you interested in?"

Is Buttons coming along Joey?

Where to?

You leave the others to their own devices, intent on meeting up with Statia for another private tour of one of the local art galleries.

Making arrangements to pick her up or meeting her at the gallery?

Assuming you agree...

"Dr. Baker was quite interested in one of Miss Marchette's coterie-mates, a thin-blood of all things. The coterie has a haven in a Scientology temple at 650 South Clark Street."

Picking up the handset of what appears to be a landline phone, he says, "Hey boss, might be one of your people at the bar." A few moments later he adds, "Will do."

Turning his attention back to you, he says, "Sit tight for a moment, maybe the boss knows em."

Ten minutes later, a caucasian woman in her early twenties comes from the back of the house. She’s small and slight, but sturdily built. Her dark brown hair falls to her waist, braided into a thick lait to keep it out of the way. She is wearing a smartly cut business suit. You've never met her personally, but based on what you've heard of her, this must be Bronwyn.

"And what exactly can I do for you tonight, Miss?" she asks, staring at you, almost as if she was examining your very soul.

Whereas Red No. 5 catered to a seedier element and the Succubus Club to those more interested in a "good time". Blue Velvet carried itself as a high-end club. Sure, there was still music, but it didn't hammer inside your skull. The kine here were more white-collar, wanting to wind down after a day's work types.

You look around and see no signs of Bronwyn, although that wasn't all that unusual, she often spent most of her evenings "off the floor" so to speak. Noticing you looking around, one the bartenders asks if he can help you. The bartender is a Caucasian man in a button up white shirt and black dress pants whom you would guess is in his mid to late thirties. There are flecks of gray in his dark hair and his rolled up sleeves reveal sleeves of a different kind, these made of elaborate ink.

After almost stepping out in your treasured slippers, you think better of it and change into some more sensible shoes.

Okay, you're looking for either Calliope or Dr. Baker. How do you intend to go about it. Baker might be an easier find, given that he is a clanmate and you could seek out other of you clan for help. Your primogen member is Jason Newberry. Bronwyn is the owner/operator of Blue Velvet, one of the known Elysiums in the city

Alexander rasps from the corner, "Explanations are there for Mr. Myles and Dr. Baker's presence, the Professor and our 'friends' in Gary, respectively. I would seem Mr. Hart's presence with our little group is more coincidental than that of the others."

Not as much in terms of recent arrivals in the city, but certainly some more recent neonates released from yokes of their respective Sires.

One would be a Toreador artist of some minor amount of fame in certain circles, Calliope Marchette who is the Childe of the ever hot-headed, Mateo.

Another that comes to mind, while not a very recent embrace, would be from your own clan, Dr. Matthew Baker. Dr. Baker has the reputation of a researcher into the Kindred condition who has in relatively recent nights began to flex his desire for more power in order to continue his research.

Fortunately or unfortunately, it really could go either way for you, the next Uber ride is much more uneventful. Your driver, Robert or was it Ryan, really didn't say much other than "Hi", confirm your destination, and "Have a good night." after dropping you off outside the Scientology temple.

As luck would have it, another Uber was dropping off a passenger nearly the same time as you, the gaunt, dark haired, artist type you saw a few nights ago in Gary. Calliope was her name if you remembered right.

Your ride over is quiet, unfortunate for you as you continue to stew in the embarrassment of earlier this evening, but the ride is quick enough and you arrive at the Temple in short order. Oddly enough, there is another car dropping off someone nearly at the same time, a thin, balding, older gentleman with wireframe, circular glasses.

Calliope, embarrassed, slinks away from her Sire's haven and orders up an Uber. A few minutes later, the car arrives to pick her up to take her to the haven.

You would certainly know that the Tremere were going through some sort of internal upheaval, but probably not specific details.

With his sought after information in hand, Dr. Baker leaves Blue Velvet.

Off to the Scientology temple or something else?

Turning to Joey, the Nosferatu simply says, "I am Alexander...please continue your conversation. Pretend I am not here."

Your half-truth seems to be sufficient to Bronwyn as she drops the line of questioning about the group in particular.

"Fine, a thin-blood within a controlled environment...fair enough I suppose, but I still don't see what the point in studying them is. Jackson is just going to have them all exterminated anyway. Doesn't matter that one of them is the Tremere's pet or not, just gives him an excuse to get rid of the Tremere too. From what I can tell, our new Prince doesn't like the Tremere much." Bronwyn says.

"Guess that makes him more like his Sire than he would care to admit."

"If you're still interested, the Tremere and his pet stay at the Scientology building on South Clark Street."

[b]"That would have been unfortunate for all involved." the Nosferatu rasps in response to Ollie's comment. Now visible, the Nosferatu shuffles over to a chair, takes a seat, and pull out a well-worn notebook and pen.

"I am Alexander." is the only other thing the previously hidden vampire says.

"No offense meant by that, just simple facts."

"Go on and don't worry about it. Your heart was in the right place."

Looking at the scene, somewhat embarrassed, you notice that both Mateo and his lady friend both have blood on their lips and their necks.

Bronwyn looks at you somewhat skeptically. "Purely for research purposes? You'll excuse me if I have a hard time believing that, Matthew. There are plenty of thin-bloods around, granted not so many that have managed to latch on to true Kindred among the Camarilla. Tell me, why do you really want to know where they are?" Bronwyn sounds as if she isn't fully convinced of her arguement, but sure enough to keep pushing.

A barely audible voice, sounding as much like a rasp as a whisper says, "So many new faces here. Thought it would do Edwin good to even the odds."

Moments later an old, repulsive man with ink-stained fingers appears in the corner.

Yes Edwin, this is Alexander.

"Otherwise, I would say your estimation of your potential role in this whole plot is accurate."

Calliope steels herself before trying the door to Mateo's apartment. As usual it was unlocked, Mateo always was the over-confident sort.

When you barge into the room, you see that while the conversation was getting heated, it was getting heated for entirely different reasons and both Mateo and his "guest" had nary a stich on between the two of them.

"What the f&%$, Calliope!?!" the hot-headed Toreador yelled. "I didn't answer for a f*!@in' reason!"

The woman, for her part casually reached down the floor to cover herself with a blanket.

Give me a Perception + Awareness Picture of the woman in the Locations and NPCs link.

Bronwyn frowns as she looks side to side, "You're right, let's go back to my office." she says, leading to the room in question.

Once in the office she offers you a seat, before lounging in an over-stuffed chair of her own.

"The whereabouts of a young coterie of little consequence politically? Nothing terribly costly, Matthew. Perhaps you simply tell me why you want to find them in exchange?"

It's difficult to tell what exactly is being said, given the language barrier, but you'd swear the tones of both sound threatening, like a fight could breakout at any moment. You knew Mateo was quick, but that's about all your volatile Sire had going for him in a fight.

What do you do?

While she seems to be doing a good job of hiding or supressing it this evening, Bronwyn is known to suffer from Social Anxiety.

"Hmm...knowledge is power and power isn't free." Bronwyn says. "I've seen their little coterie before. They were together at Prince Jackson's Elysium the other night."

"When he introduced the Lasombra..." she adds, her words dripping with malice.

"How you handle getting out of this is up to you." She plainly states. "Which one of his creatures sought you out? David Geduld? Jacob Schumpter? Someone else?"

You cling to the wall, deathly still and silent, listening to the conversation. As you focus, you can make out the words, but unfortunately for you, they were speaking Spanish. Although you are able to discern that there are only two voices - Mateo's and whomever the woman was that he was speaking with.

Give me Perception + Empathy to see if you can sus out the mood of the conversation, despite the language barrier.

Without a roll? You know she is a Malkavian of significant age (>500 years) and is a known information broker. For more, give me an Intelligence + Politics roll

"Oh, who is it you seek Matthew?" Bronwyn asks.

Arriving at Mateo's door, you hear conversation in hushed tones. One of the voices is certainly Mateo. As to to who the woman's voice belongs to, you have no idea.

What would you like to do?

Give me a Wits + Empathy

Anita seems a little taken back by the sudden change of speaking voice before she mutters to herself "That's a Malkavian for you..."

"We should watch out for eachother. While we are stronger, more long lived, and generally better in every way than the mortals, they outnumber us 100,000 to 1 or worse. If we want to survive, we need to get beyond the games of the Elders...especially the likes of Horatio Ballard."

Steve is a bit taken aback by the intimacy shown him by his fare, but the Kiss takes away all of his concerns shortly afterwards.

The driver pulls the items that were placed into his pocket and takes a glance and does a double take at the business card. "Thanks, Dr. Baker. I might just take you up on that. Have a good evening." Steve says, driving off, leaving you to the remainder of your evening.

As you walk toward the entrance of Blue Velvet, it occurs to you that the primary reason you came here, the need for sustenance, is no longer an issue. No reason not to though.

Whereas Red No. 5 catered to a seedier element and the Succubus Club to those more interested in a "good time". Blue Velvet carried itself as a high-end club. Sure, there was still music, but it didn't hammer inside your skull. The kine here were more white-collar, wanting to wind down after a day's work types.

As you glance around, Bronwyn happens to be walking by. Bronwyn is a white woman in her early 20s. She’s small and slight, but sturdily built. Her dark brown hair falls to her waist, braided into a thick lait to keep it out of the way. She is wearing a smartly cut business suit.

Taking notice of you, she stops. "Dr. Baker, you're back in our lovely city." she says with obviously feigned excitement. "What brings you in this evening. Looking for something in a particular...vintage?"

A friendly ear and the not so gentle push of Dominate was all that was needed by Steve, your Uber driver. He preceded to tell you his story of being let go from his job as a maintenance worker at small pharma start-up that had failed about a year ago and he hadn't been able to find a real job, as he put it, since.

He started driving Uber, just trying to get some money coming in, but it wasn't enough as bills kept piling up and Emily, his estranged wife, took off for the Quad Cities with their son, Mikey.

About the time you pull up to Blue Velvet, the obviously depressed man wraps up his story.

"Uh...sorry...I...I don't know why I just unloaded all of that on you. Sorry about that. Please don't give me a bad rating. I can't afford to lose this job too."

Focusing her senses in hopes of decerning if there is anything amiss in the apartment, Calliope dials the number.

It rings and rings, but no answer.

Anita has a seat. "You haven't been in Chicago that long, have you?" she asks. "Ballard's strength is waning. Too much of his resources tied up in market that went south in 2008. Now he's doing anything he can to recoup that strength, and doesn't really care if he violates edicts of the Camarilla - which personally, I'm perfectly alright with - f%~+ those guys, or burns those that are working for him. Maybe he's right, maybe one of these schemes will be the next big thing, but if it's not, and things go south like they have lately for him, anyone associated with the project is as good as dead. Fat f%*~er himself, probably escapes it...as I'm pretty sure he's got some dirt on Jackson."

She leans back in her seat and crosses her legs and adds, "Nice slippers, by the way..."

"Information is my specialty." the woman says as you open the door.

You see before you a Caucasian female of moderate size. She stands 5’8” tall, and you would guess somewhere in the neighborhood of 125 pounds. She has auburn hair that is shoulder length on the right side, but shaved nearly to the scalp on the left side. Judging by the way she was dressed you would guess she is relatively young, showing none of anachronistic tendencies of your kind.

"May I come in?" she asks.

Assuming you allow it...

"Who you ally yourself with in terms of the Camarilla or the Anarch Movement means little difference to me. I have my personal preferences, but if you are siding with the Camarilla, tying yourself to Ballard is a bad, bad idea. Thirty years ago, sure, but not now. It will only end up bad for you."

The Uber arrives and takes you toward Blue Velvet. Your driver is middle-aged, balding man who your keen observations of human behavior tells you is a nearly defeated man.

The driver doesn't say much on the drive, preferring to stay silent other than the standard pleasantries of a greeting and confirming you are the one who put in for the ride and where you were going.

Pressing the issue at all or just taking the ride to Blue Velvet?

What would you like to do?

"One who watches the watchers so to speak, and I think you are about to make a big mistake if you are thinking of working for who I think you are." After the a few more moments the voice says, "My name is Anita."

Give me an Intelligence + Politics Difficulty 7

Without dots in Herd, I'm going to say your appointment book for purposes of feeding is hit and miss at best. On a night that you want to try to feed from one of your patients, give me a d10 roll. On a 10 you may feed from a patient, otherwise you will have to find another way of feeding. NOTE: This is not a roll that can be botched, so a 1 isn't any worse than a 9.

Flipping through your appointment book it would appear that it was supposed to be Maggie Weston tonight. You were preparing yourself for the session when you noticed the red blinking light on your desk phone. You had a message. It was Maggie saying that she wouldn't be able to make tonight's appointment and that she was sorry for the last-minute cancellation, but her mom was in town.

Her mother was in town, just great, the number of sessions you had already had with Maggie incessantly b*@+@ing about her mother had already begun to bore you. This would just start the whole cycle over.

There were a number of Elysia that could be visited throughout the city, but baring the Prince creating one special, the best bet for a Malkavian would be Bronwyn's club, Blue Velvet.

You arrive at your destination, accross the street from the apartment building Mateo called home.

What would you like to do?

Ten minutes, thirty minutes, forty-five minutes...nothing.

What would you like to do?

As Ollie was heading to the door to let poor Buttons answer nature's call, there was a knock on the door. Buttons was not to be denied as he pawed at the door.

Opening the door you see an unremarkable man with slightly scruffy, dusty blonde hair and a slightly overweight physique, wearing a band tee-shirt under a worn gray hoodie with well-worn blue jeans.

Joey was just about to knock again, this time more loudly when the door opens to reveal a large, square-jawed, rough-looking man and his rather large German Shepard.

What would either of you like to do?

[spoiler=Edwin]

After you and Ollie part company, you hear a loud knock at the door of the Temple. Who knocks on the front door of a place of "worship"?

Subtract a blood for rising in the evening if you haven't yet.

It felt good to be home...back in your domain...among your books and files, but you were back in Chicago for a reason. You had been tasked with meeting up with Evelyn and Maxwell's co-conspirators. You had the names and knew what they looked like, now it was just a matter of figuring out where to meet them at.

What would you like to do?

What do you do?

You go about your business of settling back into your home, rescheduling appointments, feeding your all too interested in food cat, and opening up your new files on the Gary crew.

It would seem the evening was quickly getting away from you as you glance at a clock on the wall. It was nearly 4:30, the sun would be rising in an hour and a half or so.

Anything else tonight? If not, subtract a blood and we'll move onto the "current" night.

"I would have preferred to not speak of it at all over the phone...phonelines are not secure." Melina says. "Perhaps it would be better if you paid him a visit, but be careful, I do not know much about his coterie."

Sated, you leave your prey/conquest where you found him and make your way back home to rest for the day.

Subtract one blood for rising the next night.

You awaken the next night, ready to dig back into your assignment. An hour or so passes when there is a knock at your door.

You awaken the next night after have gone to "sleep" perturbed and frustrated by your lack-luster results with your latest work. Stumbling into your studio, it would seem George was similarly disappointed - brushes and tubes of paint are scattered throughout the room and the painting was "ruined" as George tossed the contents of your brush rinse bowl at the canvas.

Ollie awakens in the unfamiliar, spartan surroundings he was shown to last night, apparently no worse for wear. Buttons is only all-too-happy to see his master moving around again and proceeds to lick your face.

After showing Ollie to his room last night, you went about your business of studying a relatively rudimentary, but useful ritual. You think you have the hang of it now. You awaken tonight with a text-message from Statia waiting for you.

Can't wait for tonight. See you at 8, right?