Time of Hammers [IC]

[Trenchfoot]

*~~TIME OF HAMMERS~~*
Vampire the Masquerade

It’s a new night in the so-called ‘City of Hammers’. A new night for many.

It’s a new night for Kern Diatis, who, at the beckoning of his Sire, is now torn between the real and the unreal… The possible and the impossible… Life and Unlife.

It’s a new night for Mercedes Giordano, fleeing from a horrible monster and a woman who commands the shadows. Led only by her terrified instincts and the mysterious text messages from her contact ‘WTF’, ‘Meche’ approaches a boathouse and an as-yet unidentified savior, perhaps her only chance to survive.

It’s a new night for Tristram Cordell, lying in wait in the corner of a boathouse, ready to help a woman he’s never met from a foe he knows little about. With his shovel and mint-scented candle, is Tristram really ready to help anyone, let alone himself?

It’s a new night for Alexander Dennet, whose first vampire associate seems to be the target of some hot, bloody death. His truck is just as overturned and broken as Alex’s mind, and this first night is beginning to follow suit as Hunters become Friends, and the Hunted become ash.

It’s a new night for Iris Willow, who, Part One in hand and a pocket-full of confidence, considers the possibilities inherent in her mission to fulfill her Sire’s greatest, and last, request.

It’s a new night for Will Milton, whose unlife has already taken him through more twists and turns than there are wrinkles in the human brain, seeks a place to stay in the City of Hammers.

[Rahva]

When Meche sees the boathouse she manages one last burst of speed - and at the right time, too, she could have sworn she could feel one of the shadows sliding up her leg. The monster called Linus is somewhere behind her now after his failed attempt to tackle her, but she's not going to check where he is exactly. He's wicked fast anyway, so he could really be anywhere.
She's panting out of habit, even though she is truly getting tired now.

Quietly hoping her texting-buddy will turn out to be right again, she reaches the boathouse and pounds on the door once before thinking "to hell with it" and simply bursting through the door and quickly slamming it shut behind her.
She backs away from it quickly, expecting shadows to creep out from underneath the crack in the door, or maybe Linus simply crashing through it.

Only then does she look around to see if the help that was promised is actually here, or if she has only cornered herself.

[Trenchfoot]

Now inside the boathouse, Meche can see that it is mostly empty. The floor is just the ground, more like sand really, where the lake used to cover it. Meche had burst through the double-sided door which one allowed boaters to drive their vehicles inside, and there is a wooden stair which leads up to the darker upper level, where boaters once walked and set up the winch that would help lower or raise their boat. In the center of the ceiling, a large and powerful mechanism can be seen with a thick hook on it, which was used to attach chains to the boat and lower it. Now, it just hangs there, a string of long metal chains still attached to it. There is also an old, dusty icebox in a corner up there, but Meche can't see much else.

There is a pile of long boards which are in the same condition as the walls of the boathouse; old. There is a sledgehammer there, as well as a withered potato sack (with the fading image of a pile of potatoes on it).

Looking very out-of-place is a candle, sitting on a rusty candle-holder on a shelf near one side of the boathouse.

[daelrog]

She was cute, Tristram had to admit that much. He took a moment to look her over, both for his safety and his curiousity. For now he was willing to go with the flow.

"What's your name? Be quick."

He did not move, staying hidden beyond sight.

[Rahva]

Meche jumps at the sound of somebody's voice. She tries for the second time this night to see someone in the shadows only to find that she can't, and briefly wonders if it's another one of them.

"Mercedes. Are you Tristram? I got a text... It's a long story."

She moves further away from the door. She'd expected the duo to be so close behind her they'd be inside immediately, but apparently she was wrong or they're choosing to wait outside. That's something, at least. She relaxes just a little.

[daelrog]

Tristram steps out from under his illusion, a corner of the wall disappearing entirely. He's a young man, no doubt in his early to mid-twenties, the most distinguishing features his two eyes colored differently. Well, save for fact he is covered in dried blood.

"Yeah, that's me. I was told you have a few people chasing you. How close are they."

[Rahva]

Meche just blinks when she sees Tristram appear, but regains her composure pretty quickly.

"Really close, they should be here any second. One of them turned into a monster, the other appears to be a living mass of shadows or something. Do you have some sort of plan? Because I would really enjoy not being killed."

Tristram doesn't appear hostile and for now that's all that really matters. The dried blood doesn't bother her, she's got some on her herself, though she's not covered in it. And after what she's already seen tonight, seeing a bit of the wall disappear isn't really that shocking.

[daelrog]

"Well, I have good news and bad news. If what I was told was correct, your monsters not that bad. The bad news is the other one," tristram recalled being told the Lasombra were 'shadow humpers', "really does want you dead."

He paused, a wicked smile coming across his face. "I'll let you decide. Run and try to lose them, or try something much more... fun." There was a wild fire in his eyes from the last few words.

[Trenchfoot]

As if on cue, Meche and Tristram can hear voices from outside the boathouse... It sounds like the two other vampires in question are arguing... And getting closer!

[Rahva]

Meche hears the voices approaching and wants to consider Tristram's proposal, but doesn't really have to think about it.
Well, maybe she should, but she doesn't.

She smiles calmly, but the fire seems to have spread to her eyes as well. "Oh, please, what kind of question is that?"

[daelrog]

"Good to hear. Play along, love."

Tristram reached out and grabbed Mercedes by her jacket collar and lifted her into the air. His movements were smooth, almost hypnotic as he did it. "YOU THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE THE BARONESS RAVNOS B****! I'LL KILL YOU AND CLAIM THE REWARD ALL FOR MYSELF!"

[Trenchfoot]

A voice cries out in response.

"That's her! One of your people must have her... Linus! Dammit Linus hurry up!"

Mercedes, held aloft by Tristram, sees a globe of darkness enter the end of the Boathouse close to the lake. Within, she knows, is that woman...

Malisson...

Though she is behind Tristram, he can feel the shadows back there... Twisting and writing in a palpable malevolence.

[daelrog]

Here was the fun part.

"You're Malisson, I presume. The Baroness told me about you. If you would be so kind to introudce yourself, we can negotiate the terms of this creature's bounty." He dropped Mrcedes on the ground, pulling out his lighter, and the bag holding two molotov cocktails. "Unless you wish an alternative arrangement. He flicked he lighter on.

He kept his face low, as to not completely gie his face away.

[Rahva]

Mercedes struggles to her feet, trying for some convincing fear. It's not that hard to pull off what with her probably going to die pretty soon.

She doesn't have much faith in the plan but it beats running away. The woman has been pretty hard to negotiate with so far, though, and why would she negotiate instead of just killing them both? She doesn't seem like the type.

Meche sees the lighter and she does hear the rattling of bottles in his bag...
Bottles plus fire equals...
Shadows plus fire equals...

"She's not going to listen, just light her up!"

[Trenchfoot]

The shadows around the woman twist with brief confusion, mirroring the emotions of their wielder.

The confusion doesn't last long as Mercedes breaks the bluff. The shadows contract, like a viper coiling to strike...

Tristram, seeing the horror of living shadow for the first time, is as bothered by the sight as Mercedes first was. The tentacles that leap out appear as real, predatory and vicious as any snake!

The woman inside the impenetrable ball of shadow speaks, inadvertendly giving away her exact position...

"Two for the Baroness..."

[daelrog]

Tristram lit the first molotov throwing it down to the ground, a mere six feet away from himself, as he spun around and started to run in the other direction.

"You're dead Ravnos!" As the molotov hit the ground, Tristram created an illusion of Mercedes, lying down of the floor, a piercing scream emmitting from it.

If he was lucky, the Lasombra would be too distracted to notice this illusion as a fake.

Either way, he ran.

[Rahva]

Whether or not Meche screamed because she thought it would help the illusion, or if she was screaming for real will forever have to remain a mystery. She's not going to tell anyone anyway.

Either way, she's up and running after Tristram, hoping he knows where he's going and that the fire won't catch on in the boathouse.. made of.. old wooden planks... Yeah.

[Trenchfoot]

Malisson shrieks wildly as the molotov cocktail bursts behind the fleeing Tristram and Meche. The wild fire provides the perfect cover (and motivation!) for the two Ravnos to escape the boathouse.

Moments after bursting into the woods, Tristram and Meche hear a second explosion as the cleverly-hidden second molotov goes off.

For several moments, the two Ravnos scamper through the trees of the park before finally feeling safe. If Malisson and Linus had any belief that the pair were alive, they would've chased them by now...

Simultaneously, Tristram's phone and the phone Meche picked up from Joe jingle with a text message, reading:

"Good job you two. Call CC when you're ready."

On Tristram's phone, the message is from Albert. On Meche's phone, it's from 'WTF'.

[daelrog]

As Tristram started to dial CC, he looked up at Mercedes. "You know, I had everything under control until you butted in."

At first he looked genuinely annoyed, but as the fire in his eyes dimmed down, all that was left was a boy who was just happy to be alive.

[Rahva]

"Yeah, that's what I thought too when I was talking to them before. Then she started wigging out for no reason, thinking she's so spooky or something."

She shrugs, and a lazy smile returns to her face. It's over and done now, it's no use getting worked up over it and she's willing to drop it if he is. Besides, in hindsight it was pretty awesome.

"They've been texting you too?" She uses the paranoid-'they' here, not the 'I don't know which gender I'm referring to'-'they'. She holds up the phone. "This thing isn't even mine. I'm not sure how they're doing it."

She checks the phone's memory for someone called CC but has little hope of finding anything.

[Trenchfoot]

As Mercedes scans Joe's phone, she finds a list of very typical contacts. "Home, Jenny, Mom, Pizza, Chinese."

The only contact of note is 'WTF'. Odd that someone out there knew exactly who Mercedes was Hunting, and knew to send the exact same text message to both Tristram and Meche at the exact same time.

Whoever it is that runs this city, whatever groups are active here, they are not dullards...

If Linus had not been deliberately slowing down Malisson, and had instead been working with her... This night would've been different...

[daelrog]

Tristram scrolled down the list of contacts for but a moment before he reached CC. He brought the phone to his ear, pressing the button. He was getting a little hungry. He could only hope this CC had something to eat.

At the very least, no more trials.

[Trenchfoot]

The phone rings for only an instant, when Tristram can hear the vaguely familiar voice of the cab driver.

"Speak of Cao Cao, and Cao Cao appears..."

Through the trees, a pair of headlights can be seen pulling to a stop in the same spot that Tristram was dropped off.

[daelrog]

Cao Cao? What kind of name was Cao Cao? Tristram flipped the phone closed and walked over to the car, the headlights too bright for him to distinguish its color.

He was headed to the back seat. Maybe Mercedes would follow suit?

Cao Cao, ruler of the northern Wei during the Three Kingdoms period of China, and villain in Romance of the Three Kingdoms. (Most of my studies are on China:smallamused:

[Rahva]

Meche did follow, wondering what was going on now. This was a really weird night. She doesn't really have a place to stay, and now she's too confused to just go about her business like nothing happened.
"Is that CC?" she wondered out loud. "These people really know their timing, at least. Is there any chance I might get some answers, do you think?"


Great, now I'm reading CC's dialougue with a chinese accent.

[daelrog]

"Not sure." Tristram opened the door for her. "I only died yesterday."

[Trenchfoot]

Even as the door opens, the internal light of the cab refuses to turn on, shedding no light on the driver.

Cao Cao shifts slightly, likely to see Mercedes for himself.

"Welcome, hop on in. Fare's free, kid."

[Rahva]

"At least you're still a gentleman," Meche says to Tristram, and then she gets in the cab. She scoots over to the far side to make room for Tristram and then sticks her hand out between the two front seats in anticipation of a handshake.
"Hi. I'm Mercedes. Thanks for the ride."

[daelrog]

Tristram moves into the car. Closing it behind. He doesn't bother putting on his seatbelt, closing his eyes, finding a place somewhere between sleep and daydreams, the words spoken around him the faint and distant.

He had butchered the innocent, those more-than-innocent. He had spoken with a beast sent to kll him. Tristram had saved another creature of the night, and in so doing fought against pure shadow.

And he had died last night.

Gentleman? No, he was just some guy trying to survive. If holding a door open made a friend, fine. If tomorrow he had to sin, he would. He might do it anyway.

[Trenchfoot]

Meche's handshake is returned by a hand wearing an old-school riding glove.

"Glad you made it out of there, Mercedes. Things are getting tough for you Fledgelings tonight, but we're slowly bringing everything together. We won't reach our next destination for a while yet, so you two have a chance to chat. Catch up on old times... heh heh."

With that, the cab picks up speed, and begins driving toward the center of town.

[daelrog]

The neon lights flowed across Tristram's face. He was smiling, eyes closed, letting the comfort of the car take hold of him. True, things didn't turn out as he had planned, but fighting off darkness incarnate was a thrill, sort of like scoring the winning goal. At least, he figured scoring a goal would feel like how he did right now.

He didn't need drugs or alcohol, the flames more than enough to make him high. He even had an extra bottle just in case. Tristram couldn't wait until the next time he'd set the world on fire.

Until then, he'd have to make do.

Of course, he'd let Mercedes start the conversation. No need to rush into things.

[Rahva]

Every topic seemed insignificant after, you know, throwing Molotovs at a mass of living shadow and being caught up in some sort of giant conspiracy. Everything seemed as stupid as talking about the weather.
Besides, she was calming down and didn't feel the need to talk compulsively anymore.

She'd expected Tristram to be older, vampire-wise. Not just because the person sending the texts had seemed so sure he could save her, but also because he had no trouble somehow creating some sort of... fake version of her to fool the shadow lady.
That wasn't in any of the movies. And if he was only one day old, she could potentially do something similar, right? It felt like she should be able to. She'd just written off the possibility of having the better powers because the TV-vamps never got them until they were older.

"How did you do that?" she asked at the next red light. "You know, with the... illusions, or something. It was pretty amazing. In a mildly disturbing sort of way."

[daelrog]

Tristram's eyes fluttered open as if waking from a good dream. His expression turned to one of good nature with a hint of something between arrogance and curiousity.

"I could show you how to do it if you wanted."

[Rahva]

"If it's not breaching some sort of secret vampire club rule that I don't know about," Meche said jokingly, but then she realised there might actually be such a rule. "No, actually, even then. Is it difficult?"

She was probably better off learning from a younger vampire whose ulterior motives, at worst, were relatively innocent. Not from some sort of age-old monster like Linus (teacher my ass) who'd just use it to trap her somehow. She was already feeling like some sort of web of conspiracy was closing around her, and she hadn't even done anything. Best not make it worse.

[Trenchfoot]

The cab slows at a red light... It has finally entered the city. Cao Cao, chuckling, opens the front-seat passenger door for a moment, throws out a scrap of garbage, then closes it. Apparently the windows in this cab don't roll down... Before the light turns green, he raises a glove hand in warning.

"If you guys are going to practice your Ravnos funny stuff, don't make a mess."

To Mercedes, Cao Cao grins. "You have any trouble escaping those two that were after you?"

[Rahva]

Meche grins as well. "I'm still here, aren't I? I suppose I did alright for a newbie." She looks out the window as she speaks, trying to determine more or less where they're going. "You know, those two called me a Ravnos as well. I thought it was some kind of bad word in vampire language."

[Trenchfoot]

Cao Cao can only laugh as Linus himself, in a puff of mystical smoke, appears in the passengers seat at the front of the cab. Linus is even more horrifying up close than he was when he was chasing Mercedes through the woods.

"Ravnos is your clan, sweetheart. And no hard feelings about the chasing stuff back there, okay? Had to put on a show for Malisson."

[Rahva]

As it turns out, Meche knows some pretty choice bad words in human language. It's not really Linus's face, she's kinda-sorta used to that by now, but just that he suddenly appeared.
She only needs a few seconds to readjust, though. She really wants to ask Linus, now that he's apparently on their team (whatever team that may be), what the hell is wrong with his face... but since apparently even polite questions get you chased through the woods by shadow people, she decides to save that question for later.

"I suppose I brought it on myself," she says. "Text Guy did say to watch out for her, I just didn't think she'd be that easy to set off."

[daelrog]

"Wait, is she still alive? I mean, that fire didn't destroy her?" Tristram's voice was genuinely concerned. The creature before him was hideous, the very nightmare children grew up with, a booie man who belonged in the darkness.

He wondered whether Albert really looked lke this too. He wondered if he was te same.

[Trenchfoot]

Cao Cao waves his hand dismissively.

"She was after you from the start, darling, and yes, Malisson is still alive and well, but pissed! Technically, we're breaking the rules by not killing both of you right now, but as long as no one finds out, we'll be fine."

He pauses.

"You'll be fine. We Nosferatu will carry on through anything."

Linus nods with the words, and Cao Cao continues.

"Don't stress it fledgelings. Before tonight is over, you'll have a right to unlife in this city, as long as everything goes according to plan. That is, if you actually want to continue existing as you are..."

[Rahva]

"The other option being death?" Meche scoffs. "I'd rather take my chances. I've got plenty to live for." She chooses not to correct herself that time.

[daelrog]

Tristram sighed, leaning back into his seat. For supposedly being allies, these two sure knew how to get in the way of his game.

He didn't need to nswer the question. He had already played along this far, deciding to be put down like a dog now made no sense. If there was a need to die, he'd make that choice himself. If that time came, he doubted he'd be the only one to make that choice.

"So, mnd telling me the difference between vampires. Beyond the fact that I can make illusions, that skank back there could 'hump shadows', and you Nosferatu seem to keep things in the dark. Don't have to even put two and two together to know that you're planning something for us. Mind shedding some light on the situation, or is it so bad that you just don't want to say?"

His eyes were closed again. He felt sapped, not completely so, but enough that he didn't feel on his top game anymore.

[Trenchfoot]

It seems that Linus senses Tristram's confort, and he squirms gleefully in the front seat. He takes a turn to speak then, gesturing to Tristram and Mercedes.

"You two are Ravnos, the Gypsy vampires. Each clan is blessed and cursed with a different set of powers. It's very simple to understand. As far as you two, and the others..."

He shrugs.

"I'm not the planner of this little escapade, I'm just following orders."

Cao Cao shrugs. "Nor am I. Gathering all of you together and presenting you with the Books is all his plan, and we follow Albert's plans."

He tenses suddenly, as if remembering something very, very bad.

"I mean her, HER plans. I can see the value of holding a debt from a group of fledgelings, especially ones that are new to the city. Once they spread their wings and get a little power of their own, it'd be nice to come in and ask for a big favor once in a while, reminding them that they exist because we allowed them to. I don't know if that's the real reason, but its my best guess."

Linus gets a quick text message... then another. Looking over both of them, he chuckles but says nothing.

[Raider]

The second Iris hits the street, she finds a redone old Lincoln Continental just sitting there...keys on the hood. How they weren't stolen in a neighborhood like this is beyond her.

Taking the hint, she nicks them and plants herself into the cool leather seats.
Pretty snazzy parting gift, and here I thought all I got was this book

The vehicle starts effortlessly, and Iris, unused to such an elegant car, stears it precariously to the address written down on the letter from Douglas.

As soon as she pulls up to the complex just off the interstate, she recognizes it as the Tremere chantry, which she had visited once with her sire on business. She had even been introduced to the regent.

But for this night, she stays in the automobile and flashes her lights thrice. Hopefully someone inside will take the hint.

[daelrog]

Tristram drops the subject, content with the answer so far. He turns his attention back to Mercedes. "So what's your story, love? I'd ask the same thing to our hosts here, but I'm afraid how long it would take them answer."

Mor than anything, he'd like to keep the two old men from butting into the conversation.

[Rahva]

"What? Who, me?" Meche says, as if the back seat of the cab is full of other people. She isn't very used to other people taking an interest in her, and for a second or two she looks just a little beyond pleasantly surprised. Pleasantly baffled, maybe. Maybe just regular baffled, it's hard to tell.

Then she gathers her thoughts and tries to somehow coherently formulate what her story would sound like without the emotional garbage.

"Ehm... There isn't that much to tell, really. Fell in love with some guy, no idea why really. I'd never even talked to him, and when I finally do track him down he turns out to be a vampire... and surprise, he doesn't like to be tracked down."

She laughs a little, but not very pleasantly this time.

"So, me being a total idiot, I got some help from this other crazy vampire and I finally convinced this dream guy of mine to turn me a couple of days ago. I guess I thought it'd make him love me or something moronic like that. Needless to say, both of the bastards dropped me like a brick, I woke up alone and I haven't seen either of them since."

She shrugs and manages to pull off a moderately convincing 'see how I don't care'-face before looking back out of the window for a few seconds. She's glossing over some of the parts of the tale that she doesn't like, but hey it's her story, she claims artistic liberty.

She turns back to Tristram, looking a little amused now. "It's probably the oldest story in the book, but not that I would know. My extensive knowledge of vampires is turning out to be completely useless. Who'd have guessed."

[daelrog]

"Love, eh? Wish I could say I was thinking so righteously aa ouple nights ago." He almsot laughed with the words, yet it wasn't meant to poke fun. Not at her at least. "Albert told me they're hunting your dream guy now. I suppose that doesn't bother you one bit."

He glanced over to her, seeing if he could catch her mood. Failing at doing so, he spoke again. "Here, let's see if we can get you to make an illusion."

He scooted over until their hips were barely grazing each other, moving his arm around her so he could take hold of both her forehands. "Now hold out your palm - like this - and imagine something beautiful, something that can fit in the palm of your hand."

[Rahva]

Meche tries to think of something she likes, small enough to fit in her hand.
The first thing that comes to mind considering recent conversation is her Sire's heart. That ought to fit in her hand, if in fact it exists at all. But no, even she realises that's a little morbid (and besides it would only be worthwile if it was his actual heart instead of a fake one).
A kitten? Linus might try to eat it.
A flower? So cheesy.
At a loss, she thinks of the small crystal statue of a horse her grandparents had given to her for her fifth or sixth birthday.

[Trenchfoot]

Without a sound or any brilliant flash, the tiny crystalline statue of a 'horsie' appears, hovering above Meche's hands. It's thin legs in mid-trot, elegantly crafted by skilled hands. It looks just as Meche remembers it... back when she was young, back when the wrinkled hands of her grandparents handed it to her...

It isn't real, of course, nor does it react to the light as a true crystal horse would, flashing and reflecting, but it's as real as Meche's memory, and as intangible as the passage of time.

[Erad]

Kern leaves the chantry and looks around. When Iris flashed the lights, he spots her and comes closer. His eyes are a little wild, like he doubts his own sanity. In his hands he holds the "Part two" book and an envelope.

He stands near the driver's window and asks:

- Are you Iris?

He turns around, like trying to understand where he is, in which part of town.

[daelrog]

"It looks like you're a natural."

By now the tiny hairs on their cheeks are brushng up against each other. She can smell him clearly, a mixture of perspiration and old blood. His hold around becomes more firm.

Jeez, Tristram's acting like such a smooth player, that now I'm starting to root for him as if I'm a mere observer.

[Trenchfoot]

Cao Cao mutters something in Russian, to which Linus chuckles, but they are silent. Linus continues to tap away at his cellular telephone, sending and receiving messages.

[Raider]

"And your one Mister Kern; look a bit like Christopher Lee."

Iris scoots over and pops the lock to shotgun. With an almost otherworldly majesty, the car's suicide doors open and Kern can enter.

Iris begins tapping her long finger on the ornate wheel in sudden impatience.
Jesus this kid seems green, I thought Tremere standards were pretty uppity

"Now get in or we will just be hitting the on ramp at Sunrise."

[Erad]

Kern shrugs, then enters the car. He looks at Iris and says:
- Well, hello, I guess.

And to himself he thinks: "There are even women... women(!) among those... machines. That's insane! What I've got into? Cursed be that Nosferatu who fed near me!"

- Now where we have to go?..

Kern opens the envelope and checks what's inside.

[Trenchfoot]

Inside the envelope is a simple address. Street name, building number, city.

The name of the city has a line through it, and next to it is written "City of Hammers."

Even though it's very brief, between Kern and Iris, they can get there within a matter of two hours.

There is also a wad of 750 dollars inside the envelope.

[Erad]

Kern hands the address to Iris and says, - Drive me there, please.

Money he takes to himself (obviously).

He sits calm for a few moments, but something is bothering him. He tries to remember if Marcus said not to open the "Part Two". He can't remember if he says so, and decides to take a look inside.

As car drives away from chantry, he opens the book.

[Trenchfoot]

The book, simply titled PART TWO, is incredibly complex. Each page is a witheringly complex set of stipulations, regulations, restrictions, and the justification for each. It will take a keen mind and a bit of study to truly understand the meaning of this book, and with its undoubtedly 'vampire' cultural aspect, any reader unfamiliar with the deeper eccentricities and bylaws of the vampires would be hard pressed to understand it.

Nonetheless, Kern is confident that he could obtain a brief understanding if he had both parts and a bit of time. The ride will be long...

Kern knows there is a PART ONE, and that Iris, the driver, has it. The books are very complex, and it will require a roll to get an understanding of their contents.

If you like, roll Intelligence plus whichever is better between Politics and Law. You can get a very strong bonus if you ask Iris to help, she has one dot in both politics and law. If Kern reads the book and talks to Iris as he does so, she can make an Int+Law or Politics to help him. Otherwise, Kern will try to understand the book alone.

Remember, you have to IC ask Iris for PART ONE, and, if you so choose, ask her to help understand it.

[Rahva]

Mercedes stares at the illusionary horse for a few seconds, then laughs in suprise.
Super pleased about being able to do the illusion, Meche turns to Tristram to show it off and find him a lot closer than she thought he was. After a moment she discovered that she really didn't mind. Quite the opposite in fact.
It's not love at first sight, but he's been kind to to her, not to mention he saved her ass, and he doesn't look half bad either.

She lets the illusion disappear and laughs a little under her breath, as if she can't believe any of this is actually happening. A faint half-smile remains on her face as she closes her eyes and kisses him.

She never really was one to hold back.

Oh dear god I suck at writing romance. It's your own fault if you just lost a bunch of SAN, I told you someone had to call or something. :smalltongue:

[daelrog]

Tristram kissed her back, for some reason feeling good beyond kissing a girl, as if the dexire for chaos were somehow being met. As far as he was concenred, the old men could go to hell. He was actually enjoying himself for the first time since last night, which felt like a long time away.

As he kissed Meche, he thought briefly about Albert, not of kissing her, but wondering if she was really as intimidating as they were leading him on to believe. Then again, she had been very strong with him when locking her arm into his, whilst Mercedes was much more delicate. He knew which he preferred.

It's not Tristram's fault... it's uh... society's. Yep. Blame society for his immoral ways.

[Raider]

OOC: What will Cao Cao think!? Snow day

IC:

Iris, now gaining a bit of confidence in her driving, pulls out with a start and makes for the interstate. A lonely drive is all that awaits her for a few hours, and forced conversation with this Tremere dunderhead.

She doesn't even return his hello, keeping her eyes forward. But once she sees he's is fumbling through the other half of the treatise, Iris can't help but chuckle.
What does some contemplative, Tremere expendable think he can learn from centuries old Kindred law books. Honestly, he better stay silent at the proceedings or I might be driving home in a hurry, alone.

Obviously, they are making damn good time.

[Erad]

- Hey... Iris, - says Kern, - I heard you got another volume of this book? Mind I take a look on it? It pretty curious, I want to try to understand it better and it'll be easier when I have the beginning. I guess you don't understand it yourself, but I am much smarter then you, but please don't be shy of this, I possibly will need your help to understand it better. You know, like in that saying: one head is good, but two are better. So what are you saying about handing me the second book, so we can think of it together?


What kind of rolls are used in this game? I am not familiar with that part of rules.
My intelligence is 4
My politics is 1

[Raider]

"Piss off! You don't insult your driver pal, especially when they can survive a full frontal crash against the truck leading us, straight into the passenger side of course. Maybe a bit more eloquence next time would help. But then again, maybe it wouldn't.
"I am much smarter than you?" What kind of pushover does this guy think I am?!
Iris keeps driving down the finite road.

[Trenchfoot]

Cao Cao and Linus, both surprisingly speechless after the discomforting display of... un-vampirely conduct in the back seat, start slightly at an unexpected call on Cao Cao's phone. Cao Cao passes the cellular telephone to Linus, who pops it open and answers it.

"Yeah? Yeah. Uh-huh. You're where? Kay. Yeah, stay there."

Linus pops the cell closed and turns to Cao Cao.

"That was one of the Malks, we're gonna go get him. I'll hop out so he can sit in my seat." Linus turns back to the two Ravnos and grins.

"Little detour, Lovebirds. Bout to pick up yet another little lost kindred."

[Erad]

Would you *please* show me your part of book and *pretty please* help me to understand it, my good lady? - said Kern with sweet voice.

[Dixieboy]

Alexander was never one for dramatics.
He could definitely see the point of them, it was just never for him.
Another vampire might have picked an old derelict church, a shady alleyway, or a rooftop location, Alexander however had gone with standing in front of a convenience store in one of the nicer neighbourhoods of town.
Other kindred might have planned some kind of dramatic entrance, like swooping in, or at least look threatening, Alexander however was standing by the side of the road with his hands in his pocket and a lollipop in his mouth.

[Raider]

Iris grins and holds the book towards him, snapping it back devilishly when he goes to take it.

"How about this? I give you this book now and in return you give me any one book I want, after we get settled in the city. Specifics don't matter know."

She opens the book herself and quickly slips through pages, almost ripping a few.

"Want it or not, Kernie? It's in all our bet interests that you say yes."

[Erad]

I prefer not to buy a cat in a bag, my dear Iris. - said Kern and shrugged, - If that's what you want you may put that book in your... oh sorry I forgot that I am speaking with a woman, you may keep it to yourself. How silly of me to expect such a primitive to think logically! If you change your mind, just say, even such as you can understand what's better for you.

Kern shrugged again and stared at his own book, trying to understand it with what he got.

He got no hard feelings, he tried to read that book only out of curiocity. He had to give it away soon anyway.


What a nice meeting we got! :smallbiggrin:
Rolling understanding the book: [roll0]

[Trenchfoot]

--Kern and Iris--

The book is as convoluted as it is old, but Kern's keen and accurate mind can decipher most of it. PART TWO is the second part of a treaty between two parties, one which transferred complete power and control over an area to an individual referred to as the 'Foresignatorie'. The book is primarily a list of specific and repetitive restrictions, namely:

"None shall reside or pass through herewith without express approval from Foresignatorie."

Approval shall not be given to those who claim membership to any organization of sufficient standing to constitute what the Foresignatorie deems disruptive.

Embracing shall not occur except with express approval from Foresignatorie."

PART TWO goes on, threatening immediate Final Death upon any who violate the stringent terms. The word "Camarilla" is used very often, as is the Sabbat. Apparently, open members of both groups are immediately subject to a Hunt should they enter the Foresignatorie's area of control.

The book repeatedly refers to a First Clause, but the First Clause is not present in PART TWO.

[Rahva]

Meche frowned when she heard Linus's voice and broke off the kiss. She found it very difficult to keep focussing knowing that Linus was watching. Thinking of his face didn't exactly work miracles on her mood.
She'd felt a great many things since becoming a vampire, but "safe" or "comfort" weren't among them. In fact, she was starting to think those things were going to be very scarce in the foreseeable future, and she didn't like having to cut them short.

"Yeah, Linus. That's great. Thanks for letting us know."

She made a "turn back around now" gesture and waited for him to do so.

[Trenchfoot]

Linus laughs a little as he turns back, saying more in Russian to Cao Cao.

The taxi nears a general store. There is a man on the corner with long brown hair, a seemingly random assortment of clothes, and a lollipop in his mouth.

Cao Cao pulls to a stop next to him and Linus hops out, holding the door open for the man. As he exits, he suddenly... becomes the same middle-aged teacher that Mercedes had seen when she first met him in the woods.

"Alexander, right? Take my seat. You're safe now."

[daelrog]

Tristram closed his eyes, a wry smile sprawled across his face. Perhaps being dead wasn't such a bad deal. Saving the damsel in distress part felt satisfying. Then again, maybe it was the reward part he enjoyed so much. Either way, he had little inclination to pay this Alexander much heed, at least not when he could focus on thirty seconds ago.

Regardless, there were a couple of things that were on his mind again, his undead mind comforted enoughto focus on the mundane. He still needed nenw clothes, and a lot had happened since his last shower.

[Erad]

Kern closes the book and turns to Iris.

- Quite interesting I would say. I never say no to knowledge, and there is something valuable in this book. You are a fool if you reject this knowledge!

To himself he begins to think:
"Interesting who is that Foresignatorie. He must be powerful indeed if the whole organization made such a treaty with him, giving him all the rights on specific place, handing the control to him. I wonder what they got in return. Those vampires are no less cunning then any normal bureaucrats, but are much more cruel - killing a person for a simple trespassing! I wonder who are those Camarilla and Sabat. Is our (am I already thinking as one of them?) pyramid is part of one of those? Interesting. Too bad that stupid girl doesn't want to show her part.

[Raider]

This simple exchange had escalate to a full fledged battle of wills. One that Iris is loathe to lose but, she is here for the long haul.

She sighs as she pulls the car down the offramp and rebukes the homeless man at the light with a simple hand gesture.

"Look, I'll give you the damn volume but once we get in there, let me do the talking because with your loose lips, the ancient undead monsters in this city will not be too welcoming!"

She resignedly hands Part 1 to Kern just as she turns on to the address given to her, just within the limits of the mysterious City of Hammers.

OOC: Aurethius, do you want to lay out the scene for us or are we just entering some nondescript building?

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris and Kern--

In time, the pair find themselves at the address on the note. Interestingly enough, it is not as extravagant on the outside as one might expect.

There is a small, slender, attractive woman wearing a shiny red dress standing outside the doorway. She's tapping her foot impatiently and checking a cell phone when Iris and Kern drive up.

Her expression changes to excited relief...

[Raider]

Iris quickly fixes her dark hair in the mirror before stepping out, doing her best to meet the stare of the woman in the red.

She quickly steps in front of Kern but keeps her stoic expression, besides a formal head nod.

"Ma'am, obviously we've arrived; we have the tomes."

Finally she takes a look at something besides her eyes, which Douglas always said was priority one with Kindred and noticed her expensive apparel.

"I apologize for our disheveled manor, the night has worn a toll on us both. But certainly one more than the other" She shoots a look to Kern.

From the looks of this woman, two things are in my favor: a guide in a good mood and judging from her blatantly Parisian apparel, possibly a friendly Torreador to secure a place with...interesting

[Trenchfoot]

When the elegantly dressed woman speaks, her voice is as light and pleasant as her dress.

"Not to worry, dear, you've been rushed into this. It's an opportunity we couldn't pass by, the Meet rarely happens these nights, and we only had a few days to prepare. There is a dressing room where we can fix you right up inside, but I need to brief you two very quickly."

She touches her blonde, carefully curled hair, probably checking for 'bounce', and watches for Kern.

"My name is Albert, by the way. Do you have the Books with you? Both Parts?"

[Erad]

A pleasure to meet you Albert, - says Kern after getting out of the car.
- My name is Kern Diatis. Please call me mister Diatis, since we only met.

Kern looks around trying to understand where they are, he tries to study the surroundings, to understand what kind of place is that. Then his eyes return to woman.

- Yes Albert, we have both volumes. Do you want to take them right now?

He looks around again, almost like trying to find something out of place, around or with woman.

[Trenchfoot]

--Kern and Iris--

The street is full of very common, middle-income apartments and loft housing. For the most part, it's absolutely silent, with only one or two young people walking along the sidewalks. There are very few lights on, so either no one lives on this street, or everyone is asleep.

There is something off about Albert... She continues speaking in that happy voice.

"Yes, both parts please! I'm so glad they got here in time, please be sure to thank your Sires for acquiring them for us. I'm certain they'll be oh-so-happy with the end-results of your efforts. For now, we're waiting on the other Fledgelings to arrive, and when they do, I'll explain everything. For now, let's have those books!"

She extends her arms gleefully for the Books.

[Raider]

The neonate Torreador clutches the book slightly, not wanting to lose the volume again but she see's this is its true destination.

She gives her book to the woman in the red.

"Yes, a refresher would be nice after our night. O now where have I misplaced my civility, I am a Miss Iris Willow; pleased to meet you. And if I'm not mistaken, we share a blood lineage, yes? In any case I'm glad to see a friendly face on such a dark road."

All the while Iris keeps a pleasant expression locked as her visage; she's no sycophant, but she knows the need for allies.

[Erad]

Not, that I don't trust you, Mrs. Albert, - said Kern, - but I want to be sure that you are the person to whom I must give my book. Do you know who is sending that book to you? What is his name?

Kern is nervous, something in Albert's look worries him. Too much already happened to him and now he wants to have as less problems as possible. And he suspects that here can be problems.

[Trenchfoot]

Albert smiles sweetly with Iris' introduction, impressed with her demeanor. When Iris mentions common blood however, she can't help but giggle.

"No common lineage here Miss Willow, this is just a facade worn for the event. You stand before Albert Mellicamp, 7th Generation Nosferatu and leader of all Nosferatu in the City of Hammers."

She grins widely, and is seeking a surprised reaction from Iris. To Kern, she moves closer to him and taps his shoulder playfully, an odd move from someone capable of such apparent poise.

"You are very clever Mr. Diatis! A good question indeed, "Trust but Verify" as I always say! Your sire is the German-born Tremere Marcus Volkmaar, and Iris here is the Childer of esteemed author Douglas Hallaway, known as Herman Hesse, Joseph Conrad, Jean-Paul Sartre... Ahh, he was good back then."

She smiles disarmingly at Kern, and looks at the book.

"These books are the ticket to your right to live in this City, Mr. Diatis, and you can trust me with them."

[Raider]

These Kindred sure know how to hide, I need to jump to fewer conclusions. The worst part is I've just arrived.

"Ah yes, I had some dealings with your fellows in my previous surroundings. Marvelous ability to mislead and prosper, you have."

While many Torreador see the vile Nos as pathetic monsters, from the moment of her first encounter, without her sire's pushing, Iris rebelled against her blood and was fascinated by the sheer....extremes their form had taken. It was like some deluded sculptor had invested the amount of talent into their husks of bodies that had gone into David. While Douglas never understood her fascination, he never rebuked her. It didn't come up much, as she was usually completely surrounded by elegance and wealth.

[Erad]

Kern looks at Albert's eyes, then nods and hands her the book.

- Mister Volkmar sends you his respect... and this book, Mrs. Mellicamp.

He steps back and suddenly his eyes become wide. Did she just said?..

- You said Nosferatu? But aren't they?.. - He stops not wishing to insult Albert. Instead he asks, - Do you know that one of Nosferatus broke the Masquarade and because of it I was embraced?

Kern doesn't realize that it's another city, another area of control.

[Trenchfoot]

Albert is at first surprised at Iris' acceptance, and then completely elated and glad.

To Kern, she waves her hands as if it's 'not a big deal'.

"That was in your city, Mr. Diatis, the rules are slightly different here. We still have a 'Masquerade', so to speak, but we don't call it that. It's just 'The Way Things Need to Be' here. We've got the freedom of the Sabbat without the unecessary bloodshed, and the control of the Camarilla without the ugly, bureaucratic bull****. And we don't use either names. This is the City of Hammers, and it is the Baronesses' Domain."

She smiles.

"And not all Nosferatu are the same, my dear. We may share a clan, but sometimes it is not as unifying as it may seem, as the wonderful Miss Willow just demonstrated. Most Toreador would immediately start saying terribly mean things to me, and I'd have to break them into little itty bitty pieces... But Miss Willow steps beyond the... 'traditional' clanisms and keeps her head free of prejudice."

She wags a finger.

"This is why the Clause, which is is in these two books, allows an opening. It will allow you Fledgelings, because you are fledgelings and as yet untainted by the prejudice of Vampire Culture, to stay here. It's an incredible offer that I am pushing forward, but I'm glad that you two, and the others, have thus far appeared deserving of the chance to live here."

She takes in a deep breath and sighs.

"Soon, the others will arrive, two Ravnos and a Malkavian. All of you will be present at tonight's Meet, when I will announce the activation of the Clause, and demand that you all be given the right to make your Havens here in the City of Hammers. It's a big deal, and I get to be at the forefront of it!"

She does a tiny little dance, clearly very proud of herself. As she does so, headlights show in the distance... A yellow cab speeds into view...

[Dixieboy]

Alexander doesn't reply; instead he scans the scan his apparent benefactor from top to bottom, and quietly gets in the car.
Once in he closes the door, leans back in his seat, and closes his eyes.


Seeing as I have Acute sight and Auspex I'm going to assume that I saw him transform

[Trenchfoot]

Cao-Cao nods and accelerates, taking the taxi cab a short distance in a short amount of time.

Swiftly, the cab and its four passengers find themselves parked behind an elegant black Lincoln Continental. Standing outside of the building in question are three individuals, a woman, a man, and a woman who Tristram recognizes as Albert!

Cao-Cao exits the cab and leans against the hood, curious to hear how the proceedings go along.

Albert patiently waits for Tristram, Mercedes and Alexander to exit the cab.

[Rahva]

Meche leaves the cab and looks around; she was expecting either something super-fancy or a rundown back alley, not a middle ground.
"Thanks for the ride," she says to Cao-Cao, waves a little, and then approaches the little group already present. She's not sure what to think of any of them yet, she's reluctant to jump to conclusions since that hasn't been going well for her lately.

Instead she settles for merely saying "Good evening" to the group and waiting for whatever happens next.

[daelrog]

When he had first met Albert, Tristram had been very untrusting. By the end of their conversation, he was mostly confused. At this moment, he really did not want to see her now, or ever again. If she was really as strong as Cao Cao and Linus led him to believe, it would be best to keep his distance.

But would that be any fun?

Keeping to his code of masclinity he had developed as a human, he simply gave a quick nod of his head as a greeting, too unsure to say anythin else, an act he hoped would be translated into calm and confident.

[Trenchfoot]

Albert takes a deep breath and speaks to everyone assembled, making sure to keep their attention and waving her hands around quite a bit.

"Alright folks, we've finally got your ticket to life on this crazy train, but before we scream 'All Aboard', we've gotta see if the conductor will take it.

Our problem is that the conductor, the Baroness, just happens to be about three or four centuries old, and she remembers the last time new blood came to this city back in the 30's. She was doin a secret moonshine gig, and some Cammy *******s under the cover of Prohibition Feds busted her both at night and with mortals during the day. Needless to say, things got ugly, and though it's an old story, this is the first time in over 70 years that anyone new has come here!

You've all been offered the chance to die or stay and try this out, so I'm assuming you are all going to work with me tonight and try your best to be accepted. A big part of this is impressions, FIRST impressions, which you, my darlings, are about to make. IF this all goes according to plan, she's going to ask you to introduce yourselves. Keep it short, give your name, your clan, a little about yourself if you like, and your goals. No wacky titles, and don't lie. I repeat. Do Not Lie."

She breathes out and looks up at the stars for a moment.

"I know you guys have a lot of questions, and we still have a little time, but here are some quick rules.

1. Do NOT shake hands with the man in the top hat.
2. Try not to look at the Tzimisce.
3. Don't ask about the briefcase.
4. Try not to talk to the Hand. He's the guy in the overcoat."

She pauses again.

"If you can help it, don't talk to anybody, but I know these people and more than a few of them are going to be very curious about all of you. I urge you to be polite and respectful, but don't suppress your personality. You are who you are, and if they see you faking the funk, they'll probably just pull your organs out through your mouth."

She looks down at the ground, thinking, but ready for questions.

[Dixieboy]

As Albert finishes her long tale Alexander finally leaves the cab, or at least he gets out, he still keeps his distance to the group however.
For the moment he makes no noise, except for a suckling one, and attracts little attention.

[Raider]

Iris looks narrowly at the assorted vagabonds. The two foreign looking ones look like the iconic two lovers from the ****ty new green day album, about as pretentious too.

She decides to leave introductions for inside, but directs one last question to Al.

"Will all the vampires of this city be in attendance tonight? I was led to believe we had little garrison here..."

Obviously, this question is more analysis than curiosity. The more people she can meet tonight, the more secure her initial hand will be.

[Trenchfoot]

Albert does a brief count on her hand. The number goes above ten, and she gives up.

"Just about everybody should be here. We don't have Meets too often. I think the only one who didn't show was Nathaniel the Brujah and some of his associates. There are others who didn't come, but for the most part, everyone will be here. They just don't know that the big celebrities are about to enter through the door!"

She smiles and gestures toward the group gleefully. You get the impression that she's very proud of what she's assembled tonight.

[daelrog]

"Goals? I take it some sort of plan is something that vampires are supposed to have?" He was genuinely amused.

He had little for a first impression on the others. The other woman seemed to be playing along a little too well. The two men... were strangely plain. Then again, this devil in red leading them on was some complete badass man-chick that shared some sort of connection with Linus, the monster.

[Trenchfoot]

"Goals? I take it some sort of plan is something that vampires are supposed to have?" He was genuinely amused.

Albert shrugs.

"You know, things you want to do. Buy a car, make friends... get a kiss."

Albert waves her cell phone, showing a little text message from Linus. She says nothing more, and sticks her tongue out slightly with the tease. She won't divulge Tristram and Mercedes' little bask-seat blush-fest.

She whips around to Iris and narrows her eyes. In a flash, her voice suddenly becomes deep, threatening, and undeniably masculine. It sounds like the voice of a monster.

"And YOU Toreador... I see a brightness in your eyes, the one that lets you see deeper than you're meant to see. I will tell you this: do NOT use it. Not here. All of us like our secrets, our masks and our eccentricities, and if you violate those, we will know. Every vampire here is at least two generations older than you, and no matter how carefully you peek, we will know."

Then as if the whole thing was just a brief nightmare, she turns back to the group as a whole, head cocked to the side and ready for more questions.

[Rahva]

Damn you, Linus...
Mercedes cleared her throat a little self-consciously when Albert shows Linus's text, and was about to ask a question when the woman in red suddenly changes and tells off the little know-it-all.

Meche's shock shows clearly on her face, but when Albert seems to have calmed down just as quickly as she'd (he'd?) snapped, she hesitantly asks her question anyway, still trying to regain composure.
"I..." She clears her throat again. "I mean, will we get a chance to change?" She looks down at her bloody clothes, thuogh they weren't as bad as Tristrams. "You know, for first impressions and all. I can kind of see this not working."

[Trenchfoot]

Albert claps her hands together like an excited stylist preparing her models for the runway.

"Absolutely! We have a perfectly wonderful little side-room where we can dress you up nice and pretty for the meet! We can do that as soon as all of you are ready!"

I'd like Daelrog, Erad and Dixieboy to have the chance to ask some questions for now, if they like. If we are ready to move on and you haven't said much, say so in OOC that you have nothing further to ask Albert.

[daelrog]

"I guess I only have one more question, Albert. What about Malisson? What happens about me trying to send her to the burn ward?"

[Trenchfoot]

--The Meet, 12th District--

Albert tosses her curly hair and waves her hand nonchalantly.

"She's fine. A little pissy about the whole thing, but otherwise she's okay. She has no idea you two are alive, or even who you really are my dear Tristram, but I can't wait to see the look on her face when she does. The Meets are exclusively non-violent, sorta like the Elysium those ******* Cammies have. Nobody can attack anyone else, technically, though folks bring in weapons all the time. Yeah, don't worry about Malisson, sweetheart, she won't bother anyone. Linus is with her right now."


--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

As the highway flows into the outskirts of the City of Hammers, a lone motorcyclist speeds into view. This area of the City isn't particularly dangerous or dark, but it is almost exclusively inhabited by those of the Haitian ethnicity. On the same street, the Elmer T. Glover Library sits between a pair of tenements, and inside, a young man is doing his best to find a place to be safe. The task is proving difficult already...

[Raider]

Iris doesn't sweat, she doesn't twitch. She does, however, smile.

"Of course, Albert, as a newcomer, I have no purpose in suspecting the hand that feeds."

But every mask does have to come off sometime, and I will be the first one to see what hideous monster is under it

She takes a pitying look upon the silent members of the fellowship.

"And if no one else has a voice to raise, I suggest we each prepare ourselves."

[Simba]

István Kecskés

Driving his bike down the unknown highway towards the City of Hammers, István is deep in thought. Flashbacks of violence threaten to come back to haunt him, but he pushes them aside for more pressing matters. He is sure he left those bastards that pursued him last night behind, but his short unlife has taught him to never trust appearences. It also taught him to trust his instincts, so here he is, roaring towards this unknown place, looking for a new home.

He dreamed about setteling down again. Many times. Despite the voice of his blood that urges him to take the road, he longs to find a place to call home. He had a home once, but those memories only bring back the pain. He once more wills them away. No sense in daydreaming when your own survival is at stake.

Where to begin? The newspaper he bought at the last gas station did not tell him much, but the map did. It is a nice place, all things considered. Nice enough, maybe.

He needs more information before he can decide. Is this town as infested with his kind as the last? Do they attack outsiders on sight? Do they welcome them with open arms, daggers behind their backs? He likes to think he is prepared for anything, but fails to convince even himself. It's not a nice world, after all. Not nice at all, no Sir!

So, he decides to drive around town first, give it a look-see, get a feeling for it, trust his inner voice.

He takes the exit and slows down, cruising again. The power of the heavily modified V2 begs to be released, but he has tamed that beast long ago. He takes the first right, then a left, slowly taking in the sights his eyes reveal to him. Dark corners, wide lanes, failing streetlights. Cruising...

[Trenchfoot]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

Istvan slows as he rounds a corner, entering a more residential area of the district. In an instant, his sharp eyes spot a harrowing scene ahead...

In the middle of the street, there are six military-age males standing in a disorderly group. Each is wearing a thick leather jacket, and are carrying knives or switchblades. Scattered around them are bodies... at least eight. Five of the bodies, at first glance, look like members of the comparatively easy-going Haitian gangs native to this distruct. The other bodies belong to the gang still standing, a group of mixed ethincities who seem to be tied by a flag hanging out of their right pocket.

No one else is on the street. Very near to the scene is what Istvan knows from the map to be the Elmer T. Glover Library.

Simba, you don't know this city or its gang culture yet, so no streetwise roll is applicable. If you have any questions about gangs, or if Simba wants to make any quick visual inspections as he approaches, be sure to try and make an appropriate roll for it, since I don't know what Istvan would do in this situation.

[Simba]

István Kecskés

István slows his bike, then stops, taking in the scene, trying to analyze the situation before blundering into it. "Maybe this place is not as nice as I thought. Run or hit them hard?" he thinks.

[Trenchfoot]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

Near the gang, Istvan can see a large black Honda Odyssey, 2 doors for the driver and passenger, sliding door on the side and two doors in the rear. It looks to be between 1992-1995, but it has no license plate on the front of the vehicle, which is facing Istvan. It is clear that this rival gang used this vehicle to get here.

The gang halts as the motorcycle comes into view. Some of them stop and talk to each other, and one confidently begins to approach Istvan.

The one coming near has an obvious knife wound in his lower abdomen, but he has no trouble walking. He even has a dangerous-looking swagger in his step! He slips a bloody combat knife into his belt and straightens his leather jacket as he moves, casually covering the bloody wound.

[Simba]

István Kecskés

The way the ganger moves looks suspicious to István. "Might he be like me? Dead and not quite dead? Or a Ghoul, maybe?"

Being unarmed, István decides to wait for the stranger to come close, hoping that it will reveal more about the scene and the man - or monster - closing in on him.

[Erad]

Kern --The Meet, 12th District--

Kern doesn't pay much attention to newcomers, he just gives a brief look to everyone. Seeing that there is nothing special about them, he turns beck to Albert and listens closely to her instructions. He seems to be worried about something.

On some moment he says:

- What's with this "join or die" idea? I was told only to give you this book, do I understand correctly that you refuse to let me go? I don't want to live here and abandon everything I had back in my city!

[Trenchfoot]

--The Meet, 12th District--

Albert looks at Kern carefully, analyzing the emotions behind his statements.

"Whether you want to live here or not Mr. Diatis, the 'Join or Die' issue is more of a "Do this now or Die" issue. If you leave right now, and try to exit this city, your unlife is forfeit. As Tristram, Mercedes or Alexander can tell you, without this deal, someone is going to make sure you see your end within this City's limits. It's just the way we are."

She shrugs.

"If you want to leave after this is done, feel free. But for now, I recommend you do what you need to do to leave under your own will... And I believe your Sire has some goals he wants you to accomplish here, if I know Marcus at all. He asked me to let him know once this Clause was enacted, and I imagine he'll have some tasks for you...

In any case, if you have any more questions, you can ask while we change."

Albert leads the group inside the door, revealing a nondescript blue hallway. To the left, there is a remarkably well-equipped wardrobe, with clothing of nearly any description. All present realize that they could find whatever style or item of clothing they would want.

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

The man nears Istvan, his stance blatantly threatening. Up close, there are no signs that he is a true vampire... But what signs are there? Sharp teeth? No. Bursting at a touch of sunlight? It's the dead of night. Nonetheless, Istvan is quite sure about that wound. Any normal human should be crippled by the pain, or at least unable to walk without causing undue damage. It is likely that his particular man is a ghoul, or something more... Something else...

When the man speaks, it is with a slight Italian accent, and his voice is loud in an attempt to establish dominance over Istvan.

"Road's closed *******, move along and don't you dare call the ****ing police."

He keeps his hand near the knife at his side, accentuating his rude demand. His comrades in the distance begin searching the bloody bodies of the Haitian gang. The streetlights don't reflect off any brass casings, so apparently this was a knife-only fight, with no gunfire. Likely to keep the noise down.

Istvan's keen eyes tell him that the men of the rival gang are mostly Italian, and ambushed the Haitians after leaping out of the van. The fight must've been short, but the Haitians put up a damned good fight. Nonetheless, everything about these Italians screams 'Brutality'. They came for blood this night, and they are leaving with it.

Of interest is the fact that the doors of the Library appear to be slightly ajar, and there are nearly imperceptible drops of blood leading up the steps. Istvan deduces that a wounded gang member must have fled inside, likely one of the surviving Haitians. If the Italians find him, they will surely finish him, and they will almost definitely spot the blood if they look.

[Erad]

Kern --The Meet, 12th District--

Kern listens to Albert and it's easy to read his face - what he is thinking. His first expression is anger, for a few moment he hesitates, as he wants to shout. After a few moments he understands that it won't help him much and calms down. At least he tries to calm down, do make it look that way. He says nothing, but nods to Albert like wishing to say: "You won this time". One thing is obvious: he doesn't want to die, even more then he doesn't want to obey Albert. So, he forces himself to keep silent and try to look calm.

When Albert calls everyone inside, he follows.

From the wardrobe he takes suit and pants, similar to those items he wears now, but clean and tidy. Whatever is going to happen, he'll stay himself. He goes to changing room (I guess it's available) and changes there, while listening what others are doing.

[Raider]

Iris' eyes light up when she see's the elaborate selection, and her keen social instincts immediately pounce on an outfit she once owned as a mortal, she wore it to the the first day of her senior year in college.

It is an almost reflective woman's trench coat that is predominantly black with subtle hints of rusty gold and brown. It gives off an aura of dominating power to all those around it, almost like a dragon. In fact, the entire outfit seems to resemble a westernized kimono.

She nabs it just as everyone else is busying themselves with their own foolish ideas of what would seem fashionable to centuries old vampires. But Iris knows that, a Kindred's appearance know longer is a conduit of the decaying fashion industry, it is an indirect challenge to any who would appose her before even hearing a word from her cold lips. The clothes of a vampire are nothing but bait and illusion

After a practiced run to one of the side closets, she is out and with the gang again. She wears no makeup, and seems to have shuffled her blood around to mimic the affect of blush in her face. Now that first impressions are done, she has to actually figure out what to say.

[daelrog]

Tristram headed past the clothes, and straight to the bathroom. Inisde, he found a stark white room, painted over several times to cover up the graffiti and hate remarks that were painted across it again, and again, and again.

He pulled his clothing away, tossing them at the corner basket, knocking it over, ignoring th empty toilet paper rolls and a can of Dr. Peeper that rolled out. He took a step into the small shower, no bigger than 2.5 by 2.5 feet. He spun the hot water on. All that came out was cold.

He did not care, so long as the sins an pain washed away, along with any notion that he would ever see his family or friends again.

[Rahva]

Meche surveys the collection of clothes, a little taken aback by the scope of the place.
Soon she's located the type of clothing she's after, grabs some off the rack and first goes into the changing room to take a quick shower in the ladies' bathroom to get the smell of blood and smoke out of her hair. She's not sure how long Albert's willing to wait so she tries to make it quick.
When she emerges again she's changed her not-very-remarkable, everyday outfit into something a little bit more formal, but just a little bit.
She's now wearing dark jeans that actually fit, a long white shirt with loose and a brown scarf. She's still wearing sneakers, though. It's all a little more form-fitting and feminine than she's used to but if she can throw the big bad vampires off a little on her first impression, all the better. She's not planning to pretend to be someone else, just someone better dressed.
She's still debating whether to wear her hair up or down, still testing out the options as she exits the bathroom.

[Dixieboy]

The meet, 12th district - A. Dennet

Alexander watches the others head for the stalls, but, as he himself was already wearing somewhat clean clothing, and probably wouldn't care either way, he merely stands back and takes in the spectacle while sucking on his candy.

[daelrog]

Tristram --The Meet, 12th District

Tristram twisted the knob clockwise until it stuck shut. The water no longer ran, save for that, that was still on his body. The water had not warmed, yet he did not shiver. He reached out with his clean hand, and grabbed a towel, one of two.

As Tristram dried himself, he considered what he would say. All that greeted him was his own blank stare in the mirror.

His eyes were always the talk, wherever he was. Some people loved it, others were creeped at. The only other time he had seen someone with one blue, one brown eye was his friend's pet mutt. His eyes were split in two, but ironically enough it was not right and left. It was something deeper as if the demon was in the back of both eyes, a fire that was enjoying every single moment.

"Damn it all. Damn them all."

He wrapped the towel around his waist, and stepped back into the changing room. He wanted to find something with some style.


Roll to see if he notices Albert trying to watch him change. Perception + alertness.
[roll0] [roll1] [roll2]

[Simba]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

István looks at the guy, the scene behind him, the blood on the steps leading to the libary. To save the Haitian gang member he has to create a diversion, make the Italos concentrate on him and him alone.

"You think you are mean, right? Well, you ain't seen mean, believe me!"

He rews the engines, then aims his bike straight at the ganger in front of him, accelerating as fast as he can. The blood in his system powers him, makes him faster, much faster, ready to duck should the italo decide to fight instead of jump.

"Don't you dare threaten me, punk!" he shouts.

[Trenchfoot]

--The Meet, 12th District, Changing Room--

Albert makes no attempt to hide her peeking at Tristram. She grins and winks at him when she is 'caught', but otherwise says nothing, allowing all their time to change and get ready.

Albert sidles over to Iris elegantly, and whispers to her.

"I'm glad you're taking this so seriously. It's very important that all of you are genuine and honest. If you try too hard to impress them or make friends, they're going to know. This isn't your typical vampire 'blood & velvet swah-ray'."

Swah-Ray is spelled phonetically. It's that french-word meaning 'party' or something. I wrote soiret at first but I don't think that's right. Sorry, it was the most appropriate word but I can't find the right spelling! Just waiting on Tristram to finish changing now. Kudos to Alexander for keeping his original threads, go team malk!


--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

The Italian shouts in surprise as the motorcycle rushes toward him, and he leaps off to Istvan's right.

In that one instant, as if everything had slowed down, the speed of the Italian's reflexes reveals that he IS something more than human, but not as powerful as a vampire. This is definitely a ghoul.

His problem is that he just picked a fight with a true vampire...

Okay Istvan, since it's just you, you don't have to roll to join battle or whatever. I do ask that you make your attack and damage rolls as normal though, to supplement your attacks. Leaping off of your motorcycle to attack this guy (if thats what you do) would demand a Dex+Athletics roll to make sure you don't bust your head. Chaka should be joining you soon.


--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Library--

Inside the library, Will Milton is surprised to see that he man leaning against the reception desk is none other than one of the Haitian gangers who had locked eyes with him less than an hour ago. The young man is bleeding profusely beneath a heavy jacket, and he looks up to Will, smiling weakly.

"M-me too..." he manages, opening a jacket to reveal the handle of a combat knife stabbed into his stomach.

"You one ah dah Iwa, yeah? Da spirit people who live in blood?"

Will's keen ears can hear the sound of a motorcycle engine rev outside, and shouting. Whatever combat led to the stabbing of this man must have been handled quietly and brutally, but now something has gone wrong, and Will can hear it. This man seems far too gone to give any clear answers, but his question Iwa is startling. Does he know what Will is?

[Chaka]

Will

Will kneels down beside the young man, trying not to think about the blood. He wasn't hungry, but that smell...

"Sounds like you're a little delirious. What happened to you?"

[daelrog]

Tristram shrugged his shoulders. He was already mildly annoyed wit her for flaunting her superiority, this display of lust only furthering the point that none of them coul do anything about everything.

He scanned through the layers upon layers of clothes, wondering where they all came from. The possibilities were endless from vampire fashion designers, to late night robberies, to the last outfit hundreds of victims wore. There wasn't any blood on them though.

He scrolled through the shirts, pictures of dragons, brands logos, and even a few with Che floated across hs eyes until he found something that made his dead heart skp a beat, or at the very least something to that effect. It was a dark blue shirt, a white-grey cross emblazened on it. It looked like the one the nun wore around her neck. The only difference was that her cross was split in two at the four ends, this shirt's cross's ends had the fleur de lis.

He rolled it over his head, and down his torso, the cotton sucking up the last drops of water on his shoulders. He move over and sifted through the pants finding a medium blue pair of bluejeans.

He grabbed a pair of white socks and put them on before a pair of sneakers one size too big. There was something missing though, something he still needed. Tristram was never one for fashion, but there was always time to start.

[Trenchfoot]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Library--

The man blinks slowly in response, and when he speaks some blood forces its way out of his mouth. In the movies, someone bleeds out of their mouth from any wound, but in truth, this is only if the lungs fill with it, or if the stomach has severe cuts and the blood is being forced out. Such is the modern media.

"Dey da boys ah dat Broo-haw, wun ah da Iwa. Dey dun hit us on da sacred night of da Meet when our Houngan Asogwe be ah-way. Dey out dere now, lookin for me. Dey attack you too since you wit me, but dey dun know you Iwa too. Bessss move away from me dere, Great Wun."

He blinks even more slowly than the last time. His eyes have not yet begun to face, but if Will knows anything about the human body, he knows its not good when your lungs start filling up with blood.


The Meet, 12th District, Changing Room

Albert claps her hands together pleasantly.

"Alrighty, chop chop! Everybody ready for your big reveal? Now's the time to shine!"

She moves out and into the hallway, standing before a door and holding the knob. She's ready for any last minute words before the big entrance...

Just giving it one more day before I bring you guys into the Meet proper. Plus, I left my notes for this scene at work. :smalltongue:

[daelrog]

Tristram looked around for that little something else, walking over to the dress shirts. Fumbly through he grabbed a white, striped, collared, buttoned shirt, whch he swung from one arm to the others.

As he adjusted his overshirt in place, he took a closer look at the thin, black lines. They were in the pattern of barbed wire. Nice.

Without having a clue as to what he would say, he headed over to Albert.

[Chaka]

Will

Will shakes his head, laying his hand on the boy's forehead. "I'm not going anywhere. Rest easy, I'll take care of you."

[Simba]

István Kecskés

István corrects the course of his bike, keeping it in line with the ganger. Bones break and blood gushes out of the Italian's mouth as more than 800 pounds of bike and Gangrel roll over him. "Challenge me, will ya, punk?"

István has trouble keeping the V-ROD upright, but manages to skid to a stop. He jumps down, leaving the bike on it's stand and turns to face the downed ganger again. "Maybe that ws a little rash, but what the hell...." István thinks as he moves in, looking for signs of life. The spilled blood draws him closer, but he resists for now. "Soon, as soon as he is dead" he promises his beast "I will let you drink your fill!"

[Trenchfoot]

--THE MEET--

Albert opens the main door with a dramatic flourish, revealing... The Meet.

From left to right, each attendee is unique, and stands out in his or her
own way. There are no copycats here, no sycophants, no single person
undeserving of mention. This is no common Cammarilla Elysium as Iris may
imagine, with the chattering Harpies and the suck-ups and the bull****
gossip. This is something more...

On the left, a slender, pale man reclines in a large velvet chair with a cup
of steaming coffee. He's unremarkable in comparison to the others around
him, and perhaps this makes him more noticeable. He's dressed appropriately
for the 'occasion', wearing a dark green suit, simple round glasses... and a
black briefcase next to him. At first glance, it seems the briefcase is
handcuffed to his right hand. The cup of coffee suggests that this man is no
vampire, but something else. He is currently speaking to an ebon-skinned man wearing a tattered, dirty black suit and tie standing nearby. The man has a wide, tilted top hat, the top ring of which is slightly detached. He has a glass of whiskey and a cigar squeezed between two fingers in one hand, and is leaning on a classy black cane with something attached to the knob. It appears to be topped with a shrunken head, but hey, it would be the least of the oddities here if it truly was. He has a silver pocketwatch hanging
fashionably outside of his pocket, with an unusual symbol emblazoned on it.
Oh, and he is also a corpse. Yes, there is no doubt, that flesh does not
live. His eyes are sunken back into his head in an awful mockery of life,
the skin ruined and rotting on his face.

On the couch next to Top-Hat and the Skinny is something definitely
inhuman... Nothing like Linus or Butcher in their genuine Nosferatu forms,
this thing is decidedly demonic, yet almost beautiful in a 'wrong' sort of
way. Its gender is impossible to discern, but the facial features appear
masculine. The face... the cheekbones are angular and pointed, and the skin
has a dark hue of purple, like an exotic serpect's scales. There are
tentacles or horns flowing inside its slicked-back hair. Thankfully, it
isn't smiling or breathing fire, but it may as well be. It's wearing
something that could be a dress or a long robe... The design itself is
confusing, and the colors that twist and squirm in the fabric are both
beautiful and confusing to behold, just like the wearer.

Sitting hip to hip with the Dragon is a man wearing a dark brown button-down overcoat and a wide-brimmed hat pulled down to cover most of his face. There is a symbol of an open Hand painted in white over his heart on the overcoat. He keeps his arms tucked inside, and there appears to be something wrong with its feet. The Dragon has his hand on this one's leg, rubbing it affectionately like a caring father to his young daughter. Odd.

Alexander recognizes Butcher near the center of the room, wearing a plain
disguise of a Canadian logger, complete with flannel shirt, overalls, and a
bushy brown beard. Apparently Butcher isn't very imaginative, or that's what
he looked like before his Embrace. He's talking to Cao-Cao, appearing in the
guise of an older Chinese man and wearing a cap, a simple suit, and those
same leather driving gloves he had in the cab.

Standing very close to Butcher is the woman Alexander also recognizes as
Andrea, who interrogated him several nights ago and caused his truck to do a neat flip in the air. Now she wears a light green dress hiked up high on her
legs, and she has several pieces of extravagant green jade jewelry all about her body. Her emerald-tinted glasses say 'educated', and her poise is something to be admired.

Standing off to herself is a woman who is most certainly NOT dressed for the occasion. Her tattered jeans and simple blue T-shirt with the words "Klosterfrau" written on it are all that she wears; she is barefoot. Her features are distinctly... reptilian, with a long, slender face and thin irises. Her fine black hair is drawn back into an efficient and professional ponytail, and a switchblade casually hangs out of her pocket. She pats it absentmindedly with her hand; not a threatening gesture, just one of simple habit. Though she is by herself, her posture isn't a closed one, and she seems open to conversation.

Near the back of the room is a woman and a man, and the woman... She is the Baroness. There can be no doubt from the puissance and authority she exudes. In a twisting black dress and high-heel shoes with straps that wring up to her calves, she is an elegant and deadly professional, giving the impression of a serpent in an evening dress... Down the way she holds her glass of crimson blood, everything screams "Poise and Power". She is engaged in deep conversation with a man wearing a tight-fitting, deep-red suit who holds his own sense of quiet authority.

As the group enters the Meet, aware of all this around them, the Baroness' eyes flash with recognition. Her voice is as staggeringly potent as her mere presence.

"So it seems that I was always right to keep my thoughts on you, Dearest Albert. You continue to demonstrate the necessity for caution when it comes to you."

Albert grins from ear to ear, and bows slightly with the compliment. The Baroness continues...

"I trust you do not bring them here for an immediate and public Final Death. Make your presentation Little Dancer, I am quite curious as to what you have to say for yourself."

Albert gathers you all into a line behind her, and approaches the Baroness. The room has become completely silent, and all eyes are on the newcomers. Albert confidently sets PART ONE and PART TWO upon a small table, and steps away. The Baroness displays the slightest twitch of surprise as her eyebrows raise. There is a long moment of silence as the Baroness stares at the books, together completing the ancient treaty with Kern had only begun to comprehend as the key to the fledgeling's survival in this city. The Baroness looks back up to Albert, her tone slightly admiring... or condemning...

"And to whom does the Clause apply Albert, and who is their Representative? As the Foresignatorie, I must be presented with one or both."

Albert spreads her tiny hands toward Tristram, Mercedes, Kern, Alexander and Iris.

"These five, My Baroness. I am their representative."

The Baroness nods. Quickly, she fires of a question. "How soon can we expect the removal of the Mad One and the Gangrel in the south end of the City?"

Albert is stricken, and pauses. She does not know to whom the Baroness refers! The Baroness, seeing this, takes obvious delight in Albert's uncomfortable squirm.

At this point, Top Hat himself raises his glass of whiskey and taps his cane on the floor twice. In a heavy Caribbean accent, and in a voice only a corpse could issue forth, he addresses the room.

"De Son of Malkav who dun made his place in mine... da Gan-Grell as well. I be representin dem in dis mattah."

The occupants of the room stand shocked, as if Top Hat never takes the time to speak at all at such functions. The Baroness acquiesces with a nod, and Albert's eye twitches slightly as Top Hat reveals knowledge she herself did not have.

"If such is your wish, Boh-Drune Mikoubu." She sighs, and forces a chilling smile for the present Fledgelings. What she intones next sounds more like a recitation than a speech, something that she is meant to say at such a time. The other beings present in the room nod along as if they heard the same words centuries ago...

"I hereby welcome you then, to the City of Hammers. I am its Baroness, and those assembled here are your comrades and superiors. Whether you wish to remain in our company or vanish into the night, it is a choice that is your own, we shall force no say in it. Such is unlife in my City."

She looks at each vampire in turn, and her gaze finally settles somewhere between Tristram and Alexander. "Do us the honor of introducing yourselves then, Fledgelings. This City is now yours, its life and death flowing beneath your hands, and I admit I am curious as to how you warranted the dredging-up of this most ancient Clause, but I suppose it will become apparent in time. Please, speak."

[Trenchfoot]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Library--

Will hears the rev of a motorcycle engine and indistinct shouting outside. The Haitian man with is back to the reception desk leans back, holding his injured stomach. He says nothing in response to Will's assurances, but stares at the door, apparently waiting for his death to enter.


--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

The wells of the motorcyle rip the man's clothing and skin to shreds, tearing it and sending blood flying. He spins away chaotically from the collision and lies in a heap nearby. It's impossible to tell if he's still alive, and his comrades begin to shout and sprint towards Istvan, death on their minds and knives in their hands.

The lead pair, one close behind the other, both hold serrated combat knives in their right hands. They aren't experts, but with the blood glistening on the metal, they've recently killed their fellow man. Adrenaline is rushing through them, forcing them to ignore the warning signs that Istvan is a greater predator than they!

Hey Simba these dudes are not Ghouls, only the one you just ran over was. These are regular ol chumps. You get first attack, and you can more or less guarantee you will hit with your rolls, but roll nonetheless. Chaka, you can hear most of what's going on outside the door.

[Raider]

Wits+Etiquette [roll0]
She keeps her head high, her eyes staring into theirs. But still, she follows Albert's instructions to the dot and stays absolutely still during the proceedings. Like some sort of faucet, her mind pours out furiously with what to say, how to act. This is not in anyway Malkavian, however, it is a kind of learned elegance. Finally, when the Baroness asks for words to flow from each of them, Iris resists her ego but recognizes the ruler with a fresh glance around the assembled monsters, taking the time to make eye contact with each.

Who will speak first to the council?

No, wait till second, Iris, that's rule 1. Someone speak up, come on

[Rahva]

Keep it together, Mercedes thinks as they enter the room and she is bombarded with impressions, too quickly to fully register. She keeps her composure, though, and manages to analyse the room a little bit before they get to the woman that wanted to have her killed.

Top Hat: Voodoo priest of some kind? Don't shake hands.
Don't ask about the briefcase. But now I'm curious. Money? A weapon?
Don't talk to the corpse in the overcoat with the hand on it, what's with him?
And another thing, who's the one I'm not supposed to look at? What the hell is a Tzimisce? Could be that one -- the only word that pops into her mind is Dragon -- or really just about anybody else.

Either way she's determined not to stare, at any of them. She's also determined not to be intimidated for now. She makes a point to remember to talk to "Klosterfrau". She seems the more accesible of the lot of them, regardless of the switchblade, plus she seems most like the kind of person she prefers to talk to. She can't get a handle on the rest of them, but Klosterfrau at least seems down to earth.
While she doesn't understand the exchange between Albert and the Baroness, who, apparently, was not as eager to see her dead now, the outcome is clear enough. They get to stay. Or go, if they want to.
Such is unlife in your city indeed, she thinks, after it turns out we don't die as easily as you thought we would.

When the Baroness finishes speaking, Meche thinks for a few seconds, then takes a deep breath. If she wants to stay here, if she wants to learn how this world really works, these are the people she has to impress. She knows the Iris girl will try to kiss some major ass and probably succeed. If Meche goes last, she'll just be the so-manieth indistinct first impression and all anyone will remember is the other girl. It's no use waiting here to see how the rest handles this, in the end it's probably best to have her turn as close to first as she can.

Now how can she make an impression without sounding like an idiot and without stepping on any toes in a society she knows nothing about?

"Baroness, ladies and gentlemen, I won't take too much of your time. My name is Mercedes Giordano of clan Ravnos." She resists the urge to look at Albert or Tristram for confirmation and just hopes she pronounced that right and that it wasn't too formal. She looks around the room to adress the rest of the crowd as well instead of just the Baroness. While she's certainly playing the room she's not trying to look imposing or like some sort of badass. In fact, she's intentionally trying to play that down a little. "I won't lie to you, so far this city has been nothing but confusing and hostile. That does mean I'm very glad to be welcome now. I'll freely admit that nobody explained to me how this world works so I can't say that I know my place, but if someone were to fill me in I'll probably stay out of your way. There's nothing that I want from you except to stay alive." That last part is sort of true. She'd like some information as well, but if nobody else wants to indulge her she can ask Albert.

Meche is trying to make sure nobody thinks she's a threat and hopefully they'll underestimate her - the immediate goal here is just to make sure she's reasonably safe. She's a bit more of a braggy, manipulative girl than she's letting on, but she's trying to look sort of innocent and harmless, so I'm rolling Appearance and Manipulation, and hoping I get the code right. If you think different stats are needed that's fine too.
7d10

[Trenchfoot]

The assembly has no marked reaction to Mercedes' words. They are respectfully silent, though Klosterfrau seemed to perk up at the mention of 'Clan Ravnos'.

Only Skinny and Top Hat remain detached from the majority of people, staying off to the side and near to each other. The demonic one is intensely interested, and Tristram can... 'feel' the being standing close behind him.

It sounds like the demon is smelling him.

[Simba]

István Kecskés

István turns to face his 2 new attackers, blood burning in his dead veins, accelerating his movements. He sees two gangers rushing towards him, knives in hand.

István runs towards the first one, hammering him with two blows, one left, one right. It may not be enough to stop the punk, but it certainly hurt him. Wishing he had his little crossbow for superior stopping power, István carefull keeps the attackers in line, making it harder for the second one to engage him before the first one is finished.

[Erad]

Kern assembles all his courage and steps forward. His fists are clenched, it seems that he forces himself with all his willpower, not to look around at all... curios people around. His eyes are on the Baroness, but his thought are running like mad.

"Not all vampires look like human, his Sire must be an exceptions. I guess most of vampires look... look like something dangerous, monstrous, either out or deeply inside. But no matter how you try to hide your demonic nature, it will be seen. Maybe the one looking like a dragon is actually LESS dangerous! You can never know. And not all of... guests are vampires, there is one man drinking, I wonder who is he."

He tries to calm down and makes one more step forward.

- Baroness, - he says and bows a little, - My name is Kern Diatis, and I am of clan Tremere. My sire is Marcus Volkmar. Before becoming a vampire I was... and I am now a professional in a science of physics and dare to say one of the best scientists in the world. I am still new to this... life, so I don't know what you can expect of me, and what possibly I can expect from you. And although it may sound like an insult, I don't want to stay here, if I got a choice. I want to return to my work as quickly as possible. And I'll be very thankful if you will let me go.

He tries to smile, but he is frightened too much.

[daelrog]

After a few long moments, Trsitram straightened his back. He took the air in, as if it were fresh, as if letting the air tell him what to do, to say. "My name is Tristram William Cordell. My mother was Renee Cordell, my father was Bradford Cordell. No siblings."

By now he was speaking more for himself than the Baronness or any of the haunting dead around him, trying to make one more step towards accepting what had all happened. "Two nights ago I danced with my... sire, an Indian, Ravnos girl. "

What were his goals? He felt split in two, between fear and excitement. His eyes met the Baroness's. Though she held his being in the balance, it did not frighten him any more than he already was. If felt like a challenge to overcome, a game to be had. The fires inside him burned with the thought of being face to face with such a powerful creature. He was home. He smiled. "To be honest, I don't have any real goals. I guess I just might be open to suggestion."

[Raider]

Dull fools, I'll let them have a taste of grandiloquence.

Iris steps out of the line Albert put them in and addresses the assembled monsters from the center of the room. All through her speech, she once again makes an effort to force eye contact with each member of the court.

"I am Iris Willow, childe of Douglas Halloway."

Already a few of the ancients begin to give each other looks at the name of her prestigious sire.

"My plea for haven in your bastion of humanity, untouched by the Jyhad, may seem like a pretentious craving for dark power. I do not think any of you will mind if I say, yes, it certainly is. Unlike the other sycophants of my clan, I will tread this path by the power of my own vitae, just as I'm sure many of you had to do, countless nights ago.

When you look upon me, do you not see the power of the old generations past? Do you not see yourselves? I look upon each one of you with envy, and that sin will propel me through the coming nights, which undoubtedly will be plagued with trials as I grow accustomed here."

Finally, with every bit of grandeur she can conjure, she springs the finale.

"Give me nothing, Kindred, and I will return with the world. Pity me not! For in nights to come, I shall sit with you as a master of this fair place. This I swear by the blood of Caine!"
Empathy+Charisma [rollv]5d10[rollv]

Drained, she spins abruptly around and takes her place in line.

[Trenchfoot]

--The Meet--

The Baroness nods sagely, and gestures to the room.

"The City of Hammers is a Free Place, and any may stake their claim as they wish. The only laws that govern are the laws all Vampires should abide by, and the respect of your comrades. There is no written rule, and these books symbolize the last time we were bound by words from times long past. Make your place as you like, Fledgelings, for it is yours."

Satisfied with her speech, the Baroness allows a brief pause, and gestures for music while returning to her conversation with the red-suited man.

Gradually, the attendees of the Meet begin to resume previous conversations, though there are more than a few eyes now turned toward the new vampires.

The woman with the lizard-like features has her eyes fixed on Tristram and Mercedes, but makes no moves to approach them. The Demon watches Kern with a passing interest, but for the most part, the other vampires are allowing the newcomers to mingle in their own way. Each could attempt to exert authority over them now, but it seems that they will respect the ideals of the City of Hammers, and let others do as they wish.

Alright, This is now a chance for you guys to decide if your character would try to engage someone in conversation. If you decide to do your own thing, such as leave, or look for something to drink, feel free. One of the vampires may decide to approach you if you just 'hang out', who knows. For now, they're giving you guys the chance to do what you want. They all seem to understand that you all have been through a lot tonight, and it says alot about this City's vampires that they're not clambering over eachother to make you swear fealty to some group.

[daelrog]

Tristram's heart felt inflated. After two nights of sheer terror, mostly self-inflicted, this was a let down. No fireworks, no applause, no red carpet rolling out with an endless supply of blood packs.

What should he do now? He reached within himself, lisened to the blood that now flowed through him. All he could hear was laughter.

He removed himself from the room wth a half nod directed toward anyone who was looking, a rushed gesture of attempted cordiality. The room was gone, behind him like a dream, or a poorly conceived joke. There were no stars out tonight.

His fingers reached a spot near the top of his nose, bewteen his eyes, holding them up there to relieve the stress. It was a habit he was picking up. Still though, he was getting hungry, or mabe just thirsty, it was hard to tell anymore. Regardless of what he was about to do, he had no intention of walking back into that room soon. Too many big fish, he had to take his time. After all, didn't he have all the time in the world now?

[Raider]

She's away. Her hair, again fixed while simultaneously exuding the same aura of confidence as she had during her speech, but all she really did was take a few steps further into the area where most of the council was seated, or were getting up. Iris seems less like a pup with her chest puffed up than a content observer, asking nothing but place.

Still, if no one wanted to talk to her, she attempts to hear slight whispers from the crowd with her keen vampiric senses. But as always, she would rather be doing the talking. She would rather know the secrets being muddled. The young Torreador wants to take a few more risks tonight, if they come to her. But under no circumstance will she come crawling to them.

[Rahva]

Meche notices the dragon looking at her, and is half-tempted to go over and talk to her, but decides against it. Perhaps later, or perhaps some other night... Her priorities are not with the lizardwoman right now, and she won't admit to being scared.
Instead, she walks over to Klosterfrau. She does want to talk to at least some of these people, and this woman seems like the best place to start. The least weird, and the most down to earth of the group... though of course that could change as soon as she opened her mouth.

Mercedes takes a deep breath and walks out into the crowd. She doesn't home in on Klosterfrau right away, she takes her time and tries to see who's watching her while she's just pretending to be sightseeing. She still doesn't know which one she's not supposed to be staring at, but she's trying not to stare at any of them. "Unimpressive" is what she's going for, not "stupid and scared and dead tomorrow night". She's trying to look like she's at a regular fancy party just hanging out at the buffet, though of course she's not at any regular party and the buffet would be useless, but that's the kind of stroll she's doing. Like she doesn't feel lost at all.

Eventually she does approach the Klosterfrau, when she's gotten her courage up. She figures she won't have to do a big introduction - she's done that already - instead she merely walks over and says "Hey" as a greeting.

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram--

Outside, Tristram notices a man leaning against the wall of the Meet's building. He wasn't there when Albert brought the group to the area.

He's leaning casually against the wall, cigarette in hand, wearing a simple leather jacket, white t-shirt and black jeans. His belt says "Dave". He makes no movements as Tristram walks outside, and simply nods politely at him. Perhaps he can see that Tristram is under a bit of stress, and is respectfully allowing him a moment to be alone.


--Iris--

The room is awash with wonderful topics of conversation to be overheard, each one rich with details, but intensely private. Skinny and Top Hat have returned to their previous discussion, one mentioning 'phases' and the fact that 'Kine don't drink enough milk these days'. Odd.

The Demonic one is silent, and continues to watch Kern Diatis blatantly. Iris is startled to notice that the man sitting next to the Demon, the one in the brown overcoat... has Hands for feet! They are covered in tough leather gloves, but those are definitely hands.

Interrupting any observations, an attractive woman dressed completely in green approaches Iris politely, leaving the company of a man who looks like a Canadian logger. She bows slightly to Iris, and smiles widely.

"Good evening, Ms. Willow, Childe of Douglas Hallaway. I am Andrea Bernhart, Childe of Lucas Finn, Clan Tremere. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Her movements and her words are perfectly elegant. She is well trained in the posturing and presentation of formal occasions. Iris could definitely learn a thing or two from her!


--Mercedes--

'Klosterfrau' offers a casual smile as Mercedes approaches her, but her eyes betray a strong interest. Her response comes out with a long breath, as if she is glad that someone came to talk to her.

"Hey. Mercedes, right? I'm Kristen. How are ya?"

It seems like she wants to ask more, but she's trying to be polite and not gush out with personal questions right off the bat. Something is exciting her.

Daelrog, don't feel pressured to talk to that guy if its not in-character for you to do so. I already had him there in case anybody left, and he's there for you to talk to if you want.

Raider, the comment about Iris learning from Andrea is not meant for me to insult you or your writing ability. Iris has a great deal of poise, but Andrea has a higher score, so to speak. The line about 'Iris learning' is intended to be something Iris might think, like "Wow, she looks really good, I could learn from her!" That sort of thing.

Rahva, it's not sexual excitement, in case that's what you might be thinking. I read back over it and realized it might seem that way, but it isn't.

[Rahva]

--- Mercedes, The Meet ---

Meche grins - she was going for a smile but it comes a bit larger than expected. She's mostly just relieved the mental images - scowling and sneering and, you know, switchblade to the face - did not turn out true.

"Nobody laughed at me or tried to kill me. So, I'm actually pretty good right now. How about you, did you enjoy our little show and tell?"

Figured I might as well start using the header now that we have people in 3 places. :P And I didn't catch on to the excitement thing until you mentioned it (I'm pretty clueless).

[daelrog]

Tristram leaned up against the wall, letting the building's foundation take the brunt of gravity. Frustration described too little the extent of Tristram's growing helplessness.

Without lookng at the stranger, he spoke. "Say buddy, you got a smoke? I don't suppose you're with the crowd that's inside, are you?" He really wouldn't be surprised either way, about either question.

Tristram wondered if the man there wouldn't also be so kind enough to expose his neck. The thought of going out in the city and hunting people down one by one, even for just a pint of their blood was annoying at best, horrifying at worst.

[Raider]

As soon as Andrea's words leave her mouth, Iris hops in along aside her to begin the game of etiquette. Smile, mild acknowledgment, speak.

"Charmed, Andrea, truly."

She bows slightly lower than the sorceress did and again grins at the woman's apparel. It's pleasing beauty surpassed only Iris' clothes in the entire Meet! Obviously this isn't some hedge-mage.

"I do hope that my remarks weren't too self-exulting and grandiose, but they sang my purpose true...could something related to that effect be why you have graced my evening?"

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes, The Meet--

The woman shrugs casually as she reaches for a glass from a nearby table, offering the drink of blood to Mercedes.

"I think ya'll are doin well for yourselves. Since I can remember, nobody but special situations gets inside this City without gettin killed or chased out. Don't worry about it too much. We're not some kinda group of master puppeteers who're gonna start tryin to twist you fledgelings to our own ends or anything."

She takes a glass for herself, looking at the ornate designs on it with a slight scoff before drinking. Her slitted eyes are somewhat unnerving up close, giving her a remarkably exotic look.

"So ahh, you're a Ravnos, then?"

There it is, the questions she was wanting to ask. She had perked up ever since Mercedes and Tristram had revealed their clan names...

--Tristram, Outside--

The man pops a cigarette out of his pack and holds it out toward Tristram.

"Naw man, just takin a break. Didn't even know there was a party on this street tonight."

--Iris, The Meet--

Andrea is visibly pleased at Iris' polite demeanor. "Absolutely. You are clearly possessed of a keen drive and motivation that is refreshing in these nights. I'm beginning to see there were many reasons to bring your esteemed personage to this City, Ms. Willow. I wonder if you have theories of your own as to why those in power so desperately want you and your fellows to reside here?"

She smiles briefly with the question, genuinely curious as to what Iris thinks...

The big burly man in the flanner shirt and overalls steps near to Andrea, nodding respectfully to Iris and not intending to interrupt their conversation. His wild beard and clothing stand in stark contrast to Andrea's pristine dress. She slips a slender arm through his as she continues to speak with Iris.

[Trenchfoot]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

The first man's eyes roll back as his entire head bounces around from the impact. Those two blows knocked him around good, and he stumbles away, probably losing memories of his childhood as his brain dances inside his skull.

His comrade scoffs, and slides in, hurling his knife hand outward in a straight-arm stab, almost like a bad fencing maneuver.

Knife attack. [roll0]
Aaand damage if necessary, it's Lethal. [roll1]

I think that's about right. I can double-check this when I get off of work. In any case, Simba, whether the attack hurts you or not you can make your response in your next post. The other guys aren't coming up just yet. Istvan may know that because these guys were with a ghoul, they might know what vampires are. Maybe if Istvan reveals his true nature, it'll have an effect on them.

[Simba]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

The ganger's knife does not penetrate István's defenses and he is free to retaliate.
"Take that, little one!" he thinks as he kicks his adversery, once high and once low. As his kicks connect he hears the satisfying sound of air rushing out a breathing creature's lungs, then the ganger falls.

"Maybe the rest will run now. If I keep taking them down one by one it is good training, but will take forever and I would have to kill them in the end. Not a good way to introduce myself to this city, not good at all!"

Following his own advice, he stands tall over the 3 fallen bravos, then causes his eyes to shine, calling on his natural abinity to pierce the darkness. He snarles at the remaining gangers, teeth bared, then spits: "Come on, little ones, let's play some more! This is fun!"

He then turns his back on them, moving over to the fallen Ghould with a graceful spring in his step, whistling AC/DC's "Highway to Hell".

[Rahva]

--- Mercedes, The Meet ---

Somehow Meche has trouble believing that they're not a group of master puppeteers. Perhaps not this particular vampire, but certainly some of the people in the room... The Baroness. Albert.
She looks at the glass of blood, smiles - from a glass, why didn't I think of that - and takes it. She swirls the blood around in the glass like it's wine, but doesn't take a drink yet.

"Yeah, Ravnos, that's what they say. But I don't know what that means, except people seem to think it makes me a coward. Why do you ask?"

[Trenchfoot]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

Istvan's target, the scoff wiped from his face, doubles over. His head hits the concrete as he goes down breathlessly, and he moves no more. Something vital to the working of his organs was seriously ruptured by the powerful kick.

The rest of the gang members slow instantly, a realization coming to them. Many of them mutter 'Holy ****' as the whistling combat fiend approaches their fallen leader. They don't seem as driven to attack him as before!

The Ghoul slowly begins to stand up as Istvan approaches, his hands reaching for the shreds of skin hanging from his face. He makes a throaty, gurgling noise...


--Mercedes, The Meet--

Kristen merely nods, unsure how to respond to Mercedes' question.

"Ahh... I'm a Gangrel, and there's a bit of a history between your clan and mine. It's not a big deal though, I can see that you... don't have anything to do with how your clan is. No reason to hold grudges against someone who doesn't know about it, right?"

She drinks again from the glass, a stalling tactic.

"That other guy, he been a Ravnos for a while?"

[Rahva]

--- Mercedes, The Meet ---

"Tristram? Only a couple of days, I think he said." She looks over her shoulder at Tristram - but he's already gone of course. "The only other Ravnos I know is the guy that made me one... if it even works that way. But he's probably dead."
She shrugs.
"You didn't exactly look like someone with a grudge against all Ravnos when I got here, though."

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes, The Meet--

Kristen waves her hand dismissively. "Naw, it's a two-way grudge, but if you're not carrying it, neither am I."

Her eyes blink swiftly, and she looks rather relieved.

"I bet you're not sure what to do with yourself now, huh? Lemme guess... for your first few nights, you ran around thinking you were supposed to wear a cape and hate garlic, right?"

[daelrog]

--Tristram, Outside--

Tristram took the cigarette, planting it betwee nhis lips like an amateur. He took the lighter out of his pants pocket, that a molotov cocktail that was still in the dressing room the remainder of what he had been given by the vampires. "No worries. Just a bunch of old people talking about things long gone." It took two tries, but he lit the cigarette, feeling the smoke slide into his dead lungs. Wasn't going to kill him.

Maybe this stranger was telling the truth, just some guy loitering, maybe waiting for his girlfriend. Maybe he could take a closer look, sniff the air or something. This time he wanted to give the benefit of the doubt though. If this guy said he was just passing through, fine with him.

Tristram wasn't hungry enough this time. Maybe in a few hours he'd be more inclined to feed on him, but for now he was content letting his mind empy of everything he had just seen.

He smoked in silence.

[Erad]

Kern looks around, like he wants to leave and thinks if it'll be polite to do so. Then he hears Andrea speaking, comes closer to her and Iris. Then he waits for a chance to speak, without interrupting their conversations.

If he gets such a chance, he says:

"A pleasure to meet you Ms. Bernhart. I heard you saying that you too of clan Tremere and wanted to talk to you. Since I am of this clan again.

If their is no way to talk to her or she doesn't answer. Kern just leaves. When outside, he takes out his cellphone and checks what numbers are available there: he wants to speak with his sire.

[Trenchfoot]

--Kern and Iris, The Meet--

Andrea brightens immediately as Kern approaches.

"Yes! Mr. Diatis, I have heard very little about you from my Sire, Lucas Finn. He expressed to me that he would very much like to speak with you, but I heard that you intend to leave. I think it would be most unfortunate if you passed the opportunity to talk to him. If you like, he is the man in red seated next to the Baroness."

She smiles, returning politely to her conversation with Iris.

Erad, Andrea isn't snubbing or ignoring you by turning back to Iris, she's just being polite. Lucas Finn is the guy sitting next to the Baroness, the Very Important one.

[Erad]

- Thank you, replies Kern and nods slightly.

Then he turns around, to see the man Andrea spoke about. When he finds him, he comes closer and gives a small bow, it seems appropriate.

- Greetings, Mr. Finn. I am Kern Diatis and I heard that we are of same clan. I was advised to talk to you. That's my honor to meet you. My sire was Marcus Volkmar and I am very curious about other... vampires of our clan.

[Simba]

--Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

Without turning back István makes a little dismissive gesture with his hand "You can go!"

Then he grabs the ghoul by the front of his shirt and headbutts him "You, my friend, you are mine." he says before sinking his teeth into his neck.

[Trenchfoot]

—Kern, The Meet—

Immediately, Kern becomes aware of the elder Tremere’s potency. Something about this man’s presence goes far beyond mere first impressions or confidence. Lucas Finn has a near-tangible aura of confidence and intelligence, greater even that Kern’s own sire. His words belie a competence and understanding, making Kern wonder if this is what it would’ve been like to speak with Gallileo, Einstein or Newton.

“Mister Diatis. I understand that you are man of many questions. Your Sire spoke highly of you… and the events that led to your Embrace. I invite you to sit with me, relay upon me your many curiosities. I am confident that, in time, you will find that I am more than capable of answering them.”
Kern feels instilled with good thoughts and feelings, and a desire to learn more from this man.

Erad, please don’t feel like I’m forcing you into anything. This Tremere is very old and powerful, and his effects on Kern are just as described. Kern wants answers, and there is no doubt in Kern’s mind that Lucas can help him in his quest for understanding.

—Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street—
The Ghoul struggles only for an instant before succumbing to the all-encompassing power of a vampire’s Kiss. His comrades seem to struggle only for a moment before rushing away to a white van, clamoring inside while yelling swearwords and taking off at all possible speed.
Istvan tastes the raw power in the Ghoul’s blood, further confirmation that the man had recently been fed the Vitae of another vampire. There is a sensation of deep, passionate feelings in the blood… sensations of personal reliance, power, rebellion against the machine and the powers that be… It is indeed wonderful, but it is only a spice taken from something greater. Still, it is a grand flavor, one strengthened by the swiftly beating heart of the terrified Ghoul.

Simba, I’m going to ask for some sort of self-control roll from you to avoid killing this man, unless this is your intent. I may not always ask for this, but I’m certain you understand it is a heightened situation.

[Rahva]

--- Meche, the Meet ---

Meche laughs, a little embarrassed.
"Yeah, pretty much. I've been trying to figure it out, but it's all guesswork. I've just watched too many movies. I guess usually the vampire that turned you is supposed to explain things a little instead of ditching you."

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes, The Meet--

The woman's face twists with an old anger for a moment, and her slitted eyes glaze over distantly.

"Well... They're supposed to be a lotta things... I have a feeling you understand what I mean."

She looks back to Mercedes and hides her feelings with a wry smile.

"You speak any other languages? Spanish? Italian? Romanian?"

[Raider]

Iris, The Meet

She gives a curt nod to the rugged looking man, strange pairing to say the least, in Iris' mind that is. Still, in comparison to the elegant Andrea, her attention is almost completely locked on her.

"It seems rather simple, which screams something complex not too deep down. We are neonates in the hunting grounds of ancients, hunting grounds which have seen little conflict in all their edge, thanks to your equilibrium. We are here not to just blend in, we are here to be the spark of change. New factors added into the environment, looking to upset centuries old fact. Darwin would have a field day.....all odds seem to indicate we will each find our final death in the next few nights, but there is the chance that we will prosper under the glow of the moon, here in your city of hammers."

She eyes the potent sorceress, clearly no hedge-mage, while her companion may be.

"Now please, tell me why I'm really here. I appreciate your knowledge of it;your thirst to peak into my psyche, because well, that is my area of expertise."

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, The Meet--

"I believe that is precisely it, Miss Willow. You are quite observant! For decades, this has been a stagnant pond. Granted, there have been some... events. 'Plans within plans', as they say, but nothing like this. You are the injection of 'fresh and new' that will, with time, bring back a bit of excitement into our unlives."

She pauses, and takes a glass of blood from a nearby table, gesturing invitingly for Iris to do the same and enjoy the services of the Meet.

"There were some... Losses recently, due to the boredom. The realization that our existence is meaningless... Your arrival couldn't have come at a better time."

Her arm tightens slightly on the burly man's arm, and he looks to her and pats her arm reassuringly. To keep the conversation moving, Andrea continues.

"May I ask if you plan to stay? I hope that you do, Mr. Diatis seemed to be reluctant to remain..."

[daelrog]

--Tristram, Outside the Meet--

The cigarette ran down to a stubble. It went by faster than tristram would have thought. He gave a low sigh, realizing he'd have to put up with this for at least a little longer, not knowing what was going on, and listening to that damn laughter within his heart.

"Thanks for the smoke."

With a quick wave he stepped back inside. Rather than go to where the festivities were being held, he stayed in the changing room, sitting on the can. He wondered whether or not vampires actually needed to use a toilet or not. Tristram started laughing, loud and coarse. He didn't even know if he could s*** in a toilet or not! It was as if he were a newborn baby, still in its diapers, unsure of himself in every way imagineabe.

His laughter died down, and he felt tired, the weight of the two nights sinking into his shoulders. What now?

[Raider]

Iris, The Meet

The glass glides into her hand and after a polite thanks, the blood tastes wonderful as it flies to revitalize her dying form.

Meaningless, ay? Damn Nietzche, I thought his writings were mainly claimly venerable old wasted Brujah..
After Andrea queries her, however, a look of slight confusion but then humor creeps on to her face.

"Unlike Diatus, I am a woman of purpose and the mettle to create good fortune in the darkest of times. In fact, I'm surprised your clan recruited him, what with his apathetic behavior. He may as well be an elder, but in your clan, I've heard the elders have just as much spunk as any ancillae..."

Embarrassed at letting her dislike for Kern get the best of her, she takes another sip from her glass and continues.

"But from what my sire has spoken to me of your marvelous line, every member fills a critical point, and I will never be one to directly criticize that which I do not fully understand..

I digress, yes I plan to reside her for many nights yet. My speech to the council was not made without consideration of its consequences..."

A small smile parts her lips just enough to show her white fangs.

"As another woman of obvious drive, Andrea, what would you see me fit to do?"

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, The Meet--

Andrea flashes her own remarkable smile.

"Well, you have already taken your first step; associating with those who have a head on their shoulders!"

She laughs a little at her own joke, and is gladdened when Iris laughs as well.

"I understand that you do not wish to discredit Mr. Diatis, but I urge you to consider him with a less critical eye. Mr. Diatis was chosen for a reason, as we all were. In time, he will prove to be a powerful and competent ally, one whom I myself plan to... draw onto my side. His mind turns in directions that are beyond my understanding, and though it disturbs me when another is capable of such thinking, I view his abilities as a strength."

She turns and looks directly at the twisted form of the Demon, matching its inhuman gaze for a moment before turning back to Iris.

"But not all abilities should be viewed as such."

She shudders slightly. The hairy man takes a cue and bristles, looking for threats like a protective husband. Iris laughs and nudges him with her elbow.

[Raider]

Iris, The Meet
"The way you describe him he might as well be a bookish Malkavian! But perhpas his plane of life is just too foreign to me, I will respect his place. But come, tell me, what is it that brings you here to me? A simple welcome?

Upon once again looking the burly protector up and down, she remarks to him with greater care than she took with Andrea, noticeably changing her tone to something of confused curiosity, "But I do you a disservice by not acknowledging your presence like as I did to your....companion? I am Iris, and you, my friend, would be...?"

She places her arm on the side of him that is not connected to Andrea, not flirtatiously but with care, or what seems like it.

[Rahva]

--- Meche, The Meet ---

Mercedes is a little surprised by the question, but she doesn't see the harm in answering.
"I speak Italian, and I can understand some Spanish since it's related... and some stupid stuff I learned in school. Old English, Latin, that kind of thing. Sorry, but why do you ask?"
She still sounds friendly, and she doesn't think Kristen has some sort of evil plot up her sleeve yet, she's just curious about the strange line of questioning.

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, The Meet--

The big man smiles, revealing his teeth, and he accepts Iris' arm happily. His speech is... pleasantly simple. Very down to earth.

"I'm Butcher. Don't worry 'bout me. Just a big wall."

Andrea smiles and nods to Iris.

"Butcher and I are partners. We've worked together on several projects for many years. He's very capable, and a fantastic complement to my own abilities."

The Tremere looks about at the room.

"In these coming nights, I suggest you find your own. Perhaps those who you came with? They are as new as you may be, and I think that your guidance would do them well. It certainly wouldn't do for appearances if you were to abandon them, you see?"

--Mercedes, The Meet--

The woman immediately begins speaking in Italian, with a definite Venetian accent.

"Wonderful. Thank the night that you do, Italian is my first language, and no one else of significance here speaks it! It's difficult to have a private conversation in public, but with language you can."

She sighs, relieved.

"I'll be frank with you, Mercedes, because I think you and I are in a similar situation. I am a Gangrel... a vampire clan known for their closeness to our inner Beast. Thus the... well, you see it."

She points to her angular, serpentine features and slitted eyes.

"This is a delightfully open community of rejects and outcasts from vampire society, but it is not without its in-fighting. If you look, I'll bet that you can see it yourself right now."

[Rahva]

Mercedes hasn't spoken Italian in quite a while. In fact, for a long time the only times in the past five years are when her grandparents come to visit. She understands it perfectly, but is out of practice in the speaking department and has quite an American accent, which lessens considerably after a few sentences. She doesn't have to search for words, though, it all comes out relatively fluently.

"I wasn't going to say anything about that," she says when Kristen comments about her eyes. "I have no idea what will offend people, so I'm just trying to be completely neutral."

She looks around the room for signs of in-fighting, but so far everyone has seemed pretty polite... in here, at least.

"I think I've already noticed some of it," she says, though she doesn't state what she has noticed - she is thinking about Linus pretending to work with Mallison while working for Albert... Although Mallison and Albert both seem to work for the Baroness in some fashion. Either way she keeps her mouth shut. Albert has helped her so far and she doesn't want to betray her secrets; she has a feeling that she would find out about it pretty quickly.

"These vampires are probably all pretty old and powerful... or at least some of them must be. They're not literally at each other's throats, so then they must be plotting in secret."

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes, The Meet--

“Yeah, most of it’s behind the curtains I guess. You see the man in the top hat over there, the corpse? That’s Boh-Drune Mikoubu, a Samedi. Their clan started the religion and mysticism that became Voodoo centuries ago. Mostly they stick around in Haiti and the rest of the Caribbean, but he came here back in 2002 with a lot of his people. Big immigration thing back then that continued to grow, usually tying in with natural disasters that had people fleeing Haiti and coming here. That’s history though, the point is he’s here now, and he’s been building a very loyal army… and a very profitable drug trade. He’s not without his own code of honor and spirituality though.”

Kristen’s words aren’t judgmental. In fact, she seems to respect the honor and spirituality of which she speaks.

“That’s where Daniel came in. Daniel’s a Brujah, one of the older ones who remembers what the Clan used to symbolize, not what they’re seen as today. He and Mikoubu have had their fights, but nothing too serious. Tonight though…”

She lowers her voice, despite the language barrier she is now using.

“Tonight the fight took another step. I don’t think anyone else knows it, but Daniel chose this night to begin his war against the Samedi. The night of the Meet is meant to be sacred, no wars and no fighting inside or outside, but Daniel has ignored that rule and taken it upon himself to strike. It’s yet another issue that’s burning in our minds, not to mention the increasing number of rogue vampires trying to sneak into this City, or the whispers of the Camarilla wanting to move in.”

She shrugs.

“ There’s plenty going on, and you’ll see that soon.”

Mercedes gets the impression that Kristen doesn’t get the chance to talk to anyone much. For some reason, she seems to be emotionally isolated, as if no one cares about her.


--Tristram, Changing Room, Bathroom--

Tristram is rather startled to hear a man and a woman enter the dressing room adjacent to the bath room. The man's voice is none other than the smoker from outside... And the woman...

Is Malisson. She speaks first, her words hoarse, and undeniably angry.

"**** Linus, I've never seen a Hunt more ****ed up than that. Who the **** was that guy in the building, huh? And where did he get a damned bomb?"

The man responds to the name Linus, his voice placating.

"Come on Malisson, **** happens. And it was a molotov cocktail, not a bomb."

"Same ****!" Malisson screeches. There is an uncomfortable pause, Tristram hears clothes rustling, like someone getting undressed.

"Stop staring at me. Nothing here you can have anyway, especially not after tonight. And whats up with the leather jacket look? Put on what you normally wear, that pathetic balding **** is more appropriate to your worthlessness."

Tristram hears a slight wooshing sound.

"Bomb or not, it ****ing burned the **** out of my hands, now I've gotta go pull the skin off. I haven't had to do this in years. Stay here Linus."

Footsteps...

The door to the bathroom bumps as someone begins to turn the handle...

[Raider]

----Iris, The Meet----

She nods her head, one less than too much. Another gulp of the blood slides down her decaying throat.

"Everyone has a use, atleast for a time, wouldn't you agree? I will do good on your counsel then, and find refuge with them tonight."

She instinctively reaches for her phone and makes a new file, Andrea.
Suddenly she fumbles,this Kindred might be old enough to still be refusing this decade's new tech, Iris had to teach Douglas to work Youtube.

She takes the chance of making the sorceress flounder and asks to exchange numbers, "I propose a line be formed between us, for mutual benefit. Would that please you?"

[daelrog]

"Occupado"...cough... cough... Tristram makes more a weezing sound than his own voice, partly not to give himself away, mostly to choke back the laughter. His blood feels like its boiling now, giggling like a toddler.

Tristram realized for the first time that as a vampire, he liked strong women, and suriving two molotov cocktails was pretty badass. Unfortunately, he was not so flattered by the anger and skin shedding. He could do better, much, much better.

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, The Meet--

Andrea licks her teeth provocatively.

"That would please me immensely."

Without another word, she relays her cellular telephone number to Iris.

"A definite pleasure encountering a fellow dilettante. If you'll excuse me, Butcher and I must attend to something."

Butcher nods blankly and echoes her words. "Nice to meet you Madam."

As they move away, Andrea slaps his arm playfully. "It's madamme, throw a little 'french' into your voice, like you always say."

Iris is left to herself, feeling eyes bore into the back of her head...

The Dragon is now standing somewhere behind her... close? Far away? It feels like it's both.

The sound of a smile in its voice, it speaks to her, sounding like the voice of the Devil tempting a sinner... The things tentacles dance in its hair, writhing like snakes.

"Madamme..." it croons, mocking the pair that had just left.


--Tristram, The ****ter--

"Occupado? Are you ****ing kidding me?"

Tristram can hear Linus breathing in sharply, clearly realizing that it was Tristram in the bathroom...

"Uh, Malisson, don't worry about it, I can take care of it."

Harsh footsteps approach Linus, and Tristram can hear someone take a handful of clothes... Malisson must've just grabbed Linus by the front of his shirt.

"What the **** are you gonna do, Linus? You think you're fit to lick these wounds clean, you little ****?!"

There is an uncomfortable silence.

"...No..."

"Of course you're not. You disgust me. You always fail me, I don't know why I keep you around. You are filth."

"I... I know mistress. I'm not worth..."

Something is pushed against the wall. Another silence. The air is heavy, like someone was placing their boot on the chest of the entire room.

"...Take care of it. Clean it up. "

Silence. Wet silence.

"You're filth, Linus."

"Yes... mistress..."

......

"Come on, we're going to this Meet. I'd better look good."

"Yes Malisson, you l-"

"Shut up."

And they are gone...

[daelrog]

Poor guy. Tristram can't help but thik he'd had theame relationship a couple of times himself. Especailly Rebecca. That one was the worst.

Still though, every part of him didn't want to miss Malisson's entrance. If nothing else, it would be an icebreaker for him and any of the monsters just a fifteen second walk away.

Tristram stood up, and opened the door, reminding himself to stick to places that had locks, beautiful, useful locks. Hereadjested himself, and strode back onto the Meet, doing his best to subdue a sly grin.

[Rahva]

"I had a feeling I might, yeah..."
She's trying to keep all of her information straight in her head, but she's tired and it all doesn't make a lot of sense.
So there's Ravnos, Gangrel, Samedi, Brujah, Camarilla... And so many questions.

But Kristen seems to be the only one that has realised this Daniel person has made his move tonight - otherwise, surely, everyone would not be here relaxing? She postpones the "stupid" "what is a Brujah" questions for now - it's obviously a clan, and she'll probably be hearing more about them when everybody else has figured out what happened.

"How do you know all this? Are you on anybody's side in this little war, or are you a side of your own?"

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes, The Meet--

Kristen smiles like a young girl in love.

"To be honest, I used to find Daniel's passion and zest for existence enthralling. In small ways, I still do. He finds no comfort in the ordinary, and revels in change... I do too, but..."

She stops and laughs, realizing how much she had revealed.

"Damn, I sound like some lovestruck poet! Listen Mercedes, being a vampire is more about thrill and power than it is about bull**** plots! We've been given the right to pursue whatever makes us happy, and so have you! Don't worry about this other garbage, it will leave you alone if you leave it alone!"

[Raider]

--Iris, The Meet--

Standing firm against her all so mortal call to flee, the Torreador stands firm. But the voice, it is so quiet, yet fills her whole being with its intent, mockery. It feels, almost like telepathy, but still, she recognizes it as the sound of something....unaccustomed to casual speech.
Iris answers with a highbrow quip, "If she knew proper French she would know to address me as a Mademoiselle, that error is elementary."

Suddenly, she turns about and faces whatever is behind her, ready to listen to whatever it is about to hiss into her ear.

[Rahva]

"Call me Meche," Meche says. She's really starting to like Kristen now, both because of her attitude towards unlife, and because of her personality in general.
"I was hoping you would say that, now I'm hoping it's also true. So what does a Gangrel do for fun in the City of Hammers?"

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, The Meet--

The Dragon grins, splitting its mouth open wide. It begins to speak in flawless French, but with an accent that sounds like it comes from several hundred years ago... It's 'Sss' sounds come out as rather bone-chilling hisses.

"Indeed... A fitting title. It carries all the poise and subtlety of a concealed stiletto, for that is what you seem to be..."

Before Iris can ponder the Dragon's words, or respond, the doors to the Meet swing wide...


--Mercedes, The Meet--

"Heh, ahh... Whatever a Gangrel wants to do. Dance, jump off buildings, **** up a warehouse full of gang-bangers, diablerize some punk-ass vampire trying to make his claim in this City when he doesn't have the right too. You know, the-"

She reverts back to English as the doors to the Meet swing wide...

"Aww ****."


--Everyone, The Meet--

Malisson, followed closely by Linus wearing that same pathetic disguise, bursts into the Meet. Righteous anger and the promise of violence are written on her face. Apparently, she did not take the escape of her quarry very well.

Even Albert cringes slightly at Malisson's entrance, knowing that Albert had organized for Linus to help Tristram and Mercedes escape the wicked Lasombra's grasp, at great cost to Linus. Now that the Fledgelings were protected by the city, Malisson had no right to officially Hunt them.

Of course, this is a free City, and the rules about "Killing those little ****s because they pissed me off" seem to be rather sketchy...

All is quiet as the powerful Malisson locks eyes first with her Baroness, who gestures toward a particular corner of the room.

Malisson looks to where her Sire gestured...

And sees Mercedes...

[Raider]

--Iris, The Meet--

"And before me, the grandeur of an apex predator. What shall I call you?"

Gradually, Iris takes in, and perceives the animosity that just entered the room. The woman, she is the face of hatred, and that look she gave the Baroness... must be a childe. Her entire mood betrays her sire's cool demeanor, odd pairing.
Looks like etiquette is about to be abandoned; a wayward childe may be a keen way to manipulate my mysterious liege..

[Rahva]

Mercedes freezes. A chill comes over her and for a few seconds she does not move, just stares at Malisson with her face frozen in an expression somewhere between amused en surprised.
Then she remembers where she is and who else is here - and she doesn't want to look like an idiot in front of all these people. She catches herself looking for Tristram, not to hide behind him, but because he seems to be missing and now Malisson is here... for all she knows he's dead.

She unfreezes and smiles innocently at Malisson.

[Trenchfoot]

--The Meet--

The Tzimisce has only a brief chance to respond before entry, saying only "'Call me' when you need me..."

Malisson's gaze returns to the Baroness, and the silent, nonverbal communication between them speaks volumes. A controlling, authoritative Sire... A violent, passionate Childer... The elder Lasombra, sitting calmly in her elaborate chair, raises Parts One and Two of the Book for Malisson to see, cementing the truth of things.

Seconds pass as Malisson's mind works over what had happened. It dawns on her that it was all an elaborate sham, and that others had plotted to legitimize the fledgelings, despite Malisson's efforts to complete her Hunt. Even the Baroness had been unaware of the use of the Books, but now, it was plain for Malisson as well. The room can feel her anger and indignation, but none can feel it more keenly than one particular Nosferatu.

Malisson slowly turns around to face Linus, cringing behind her.

"You knew." is all she says to him.

Wordlessly, she grabs Linus by the front of his shirt and pulls him with her into the hallway and out of the Meet. Linus gives one last glance to Mercedes and Iris, forcing a smile, trying to show that he was glad for his sacrifice, glad that he gave someone else the chance to bring change to the City of Hammers.

Malisson storms past Tristram, completely unaware of his presence as she brings Linus with her outside...

Daelrog, she did NOT see you, and you're free to enter the Meet if you so choose. Raider, the Tzimisce was making sort of a pun.
"What should I call you?
"Call me anytime."
Like a bad pick-up line, only creepier.

[daelrog]

Tristram walked into the meet, bright eyed and with a look best described as chipper. It was almost as if he were saying look at me, I set that woman on fire just a little while ago. There was a slight tugging at his sympathies for Linus, who no doubt was about to have a long night ,but if Malisson could survive two molotovs, then Linus would no doubt survive whatever the shadow-humper - he was beginning to like that term - could do to him. Probably.

Tristram sat at a booth, sliding to almost a laying down position, gesutrng the one of the server's to bring hm a drink, a big drink. He only regreatted that he didn't see the whole thing unfold.

Maybe he didn't need alcohol. Perhaps he had found a better drug.

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

Immediately, a young woman rushes out of a backroom, nodding respectfully to Tristram.

"What can I get for you, Sir?"

[daelrog]

Another girl as cute as you and a hotel room. "I could use a big glass, no, better make that a pitcher. I've had a busy night what with saving lives, running out of burning buildings, and such..." He looked to see if she had a name tag, but she didn't. "... Love."

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

"My hero! A pitcher for you as quickly as you'd like it, if a glass is your style. Any special preferences? Cold or warm? Ethnicity? Blood content?"

She flashes a dazzling smile, craning her neck slightly. It's quite a healthy bit of human right there... between her slim jawline and unassuming shoulders... She's showing it off, and she knows it...

Dirty girl...

Tristram hardly notices someone pulling up to the service table next to him.

[daelrog]

"Surprise me." Tristram smiles at the girl's blatant attempt at a reaction, hoping to push her off for a few minutes while he thinks her over.

Hero, eh? He could get used to that sort of title. He wondered how often he'd have to pull off a stupid stunt to maintain such a title. Then again, did he even have to do anything at all.

Maybe he wouldn't have to hut people down. Maybe he could have people serve him drinks instead, where he didn't have to feel the bodies of his victims. Is that what he wanted though? The passing thought of paying for it crossed his mind too. He'd put it on Albert's tab if he needed to, he was at her beck and call already, wasn't he?

Tristram still doesn't notice whoever is next to him, caught up way too much in the nameless girl, and the thought of a good drink.

[Simba]

—István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street—

As the flow of blood slowly tickles to an end, István regains his senses."That was...incredible...sweet, full of power. The hint of more, of stronger blood." he thinks as realisation of what he had tasted dawns on him. "I hope his creator does not mind. Hell, let him mind, it was worth it!"

He wipes the blood off his mouth, feeling filled up to the max for the first time in...well, for the first time, actually. Looking around he sees the unconscious gangers, shrugs and walks back to his bike, dragging the dead ganger over to his live commerades.

"I wonder if they will come back for you or just leave you here at my mercy..."

He gets on his back and drives the few meters to the libary building.
"Elmer T. Glover Library. Lets have a look inside, the poor wounded ganger should be there. maybe I can still save him!"

He kills the engine and gets off, leaving the bike on kickstand. On an afterthough, he grabs the crossbow from his packs and walks up the stairs, to the open door.

"I might as well have a look..." he thinks as he enters "Anybody home?"

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

Tristram's contemplation is only slightly disrupted by a loud thump on the bar. Next to him, the skinny, pale man, no longer with a cup of coffee, has set his briefcase upon the counter. He makes no move to engage Tristram in conversation, and silently waits for the girl to return.

She does so shortly, placing a warm ceramic pitcher on the counter. The burned clay is elegantly decorated with what appears to be Latin, and the image of a warrior bearing a shield on the side. On the opposite side, a woman dips an infant into a river, holding the baby by the tip of its heel.

She turns to the slender man, who waggles fingers strangely. Sign language. The girl nods, smiles, and goes back through the service door, leaving Tristram and the man alone.

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

Istvan enters the library, and immediately sees a young Haitian man, clutching a knife still thrust into his side.

He makes a croaking noise as Istvan enters, and slowly kicks his legs...

Istvan sees no one else in the library...

[daelrog]

-Tristam, The Meet -

"So what do you think Malisson is going to do to Linus? I can't help but think the enthusiasm that I put in tonight won't help his cause." He paused for a moment. "And what's up with with the girl?" He meant the waitress, and he meant what's with a human girl serving a bunch of vampires and being oddly normal about it.

Tristram picked the pitcher upand began to drink, keeping an eye on the briefcase. Albert said something about a briefcase, what was it? Don't shake hands with Top Hat, don't shake hands with the Hand, don't do anything around the Tzimeemee... Jacusi, Jahumunum... don't do somethng about the briefcase. Don't do or say anything about the briefcase would probably suffice.

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

The slender man turns to Tristram, drawing a small device out of his suit pocket. With a flip, a tiny keyboard pops out of it, and he beings typing. He slides the device over to Tristram. It reads:

"Assuming no sign language. I am William Hoy. Think Malisson beat the crap out of Linus again. Girl is ghoul like me, name Tracy Gold. Don't know what you mean about Enthusiasm. Feel free to respond on PDA."

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

István looks around, then closes and looks at the ganger's wounds. "This looks bad....very bad!" he thinks. Without any knowledge of medicine, István can not say how the boy fares, but smiles reassuringly: "I want to help you, boy. The badies are gone, have no fear. I will not hurt you."

[Rahva]

"Oh man, poor Linus," Meche says, mostly to herself, when Malisson drags him off. Then Tristram enters, and at least now she knows Malisson didn't kill him on her way into the building or something.
And she's still alive herself, it all went smoother than expected, though now she's thinking the only reason the shadow-humper didn't tear her throat out right there was that the Baroness was there. She'd definitely be looking over her shoulder from now on.

She turns back to Kristen. "Glad I'm not the only one who can't stand her."

[daelrog]

-Trsitram, the Meet-

He leaned over and began typig. He really wanted to ask about the briefcase, but he had another question on his mind.

"I set her on fire.

What's a ghoul?"

He really, really didn't want whatever a ghoul was to be something bad. He was never much on fantasy stories, so the word ghoul was but another child's word like boogey-man or monster-in-the-closet. And what was up with the briefcase?

[Trenchfoot]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

The youth eases up immediately, an odd kind of recognition coming to his drained face.

"You be one ah da Iwa, yea?" He squints at Istvan, as if seeing him with a different pair of eyes.

"Yea, you be, bossss. I tink I be passin to your realm, Great Wun, I will do as you be sayin'."

He grunts and looks down at his wound... A combat knife slid into his lower abdomen. The blood isn't pumping out freely, at least, because most of it is already on the ground.


--Mercedes, The Meet--

Kristen grins, and returns to comfortably speaking Italian with Mercedes. Her face looks as if it hasn't smiled in years.

"I'm no expert in psychology, but I think Linus kind of enjoys his position. Under her."

She chuckles a bit at her crude joke.

"Malisson's got quite a bit of power in her. She does what she wants, when she wants, because she can. I respect that, because I'm the same way, and I think you are too."

She wags her fingers at the air.

"The difference is in HOW we do it. I'm not a savage, whacko bitch, and neither are you!"


--Tristram, The Meet--

The slender man reads the first part of the message, and laughs quietly. His laugh is natural, normal, not some kind of mutant laugh like the ignorant might expect from a deaf man. When he reads the second message, his laugh comes out quite a bit louder. His long fingers fly on the PDA, and he passes the device back with a grin as Tracy returns with a cup of blended coffee from a french press. The PDA reads:

"Ghouls are humans given vampire blood. We serve our Masters, and in turn receive benefits. Strength, regeneration, long life. I was born in 1862. Tracy Gold used to be stage actress. A modern TV actress was named after her. May still be mortals, but have our own accomplishments. Why you come to CoH? Where is Sire?"

[daelrog]

Why did he come to the City of Hammers again? He couldn't remember. Terror gripped him for a moment. Why was he here? Wy was he in this city? He had been studyng at the University of Miama for Sociology. What was he even doing in this city in the first place? He had taken the greyhound to this city. It couldn't be...

His fingers started typing.

"Sire dumped me in a church. Ran off."

He paused. Why was he there, why was he even in this damned place, before he had died?

"Was just passing through on my way to a friend's place."

He shifted the PDA back to William. So ghouls were at the beck and call of their masters, eh? He wondered who was Miss Gold's master and if her smile was just another act, some way to make him pay later like Albert's big production.

At least the girl's master had good taste in bait.

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

The slender man studies Tristram carefully, not even looking at the PDA for a moment. Perhaps something in Tristram's face betrayed the emotions he felt...

He types carefully, and returns the PDA with a respectful nod before taking a drink of the coffee. He signs what must be a "Thank you" to Tracy, who returns something in kind.

It reads:

"Not my intent to bring bad memories. Church = bad memories. Who is your friend? Been in this city for quite a while, I will know him/her/it. Excuse me if I pry."

[Rahva]

Meche cringes inwardly at that mental image - Linus in his real form, with a sort of shadow tentacle-monster did not make for very tasty food for thought.

"Well, I don't know about the whacko part myself," Mercedes says, grinning in return. Then she realises she is still carrying a glass and downs all of it at once, mentally toasting to 'defeating' Malisson a second time.

"Do you have these Meets often? Seems like a strange crowd to regularly hang out together."

[Raider]

---Iris, The Meet---

That voice, everything about it, so potent, so tempting, it is more than any new blood can bare. A part of Iris tugs at her, begging her to stay and be with the creature, just revel at his disgusting majesty, but then the rational parts of her gains control, but leaves a bit of herself in his being.

"I'll....I'll remember that."

She loses all her poise, she quickly exits the Meet and retreats to the empty changing room, staining her dress after hastily downing another goblet.

Nothing had prepared her for that, primordial, arrogant power. Limitless words. She knew only the strength in persuasion and blackmail....what that...thing had was the raw power to command.

She wants it, more than the vitae, more than eternity, she wants it. But not now.

Now, she sobs, pitifully sobs in a restroom, smearing her carefully arranged make up and ripping apart her dress, piece by piece. Every bit of her fancy apparel is shed until she naked, the beast pouncing in her eyes, desire, greed, frustration. None of it is hers, infuriating!

A long scream, then she reappears outside of the room in a crisp black turtleneck and white pants, along with simple brown sandals. It seems that that wardrobe really does contain everything.

Still, there is no hiding her disheveled hair and menacing gaze, which she uses to survey the room, looking for a sign on the procedure for exiting, she still has enough sense to keep a bit of formality.

[daelrog]

"No one i nthis xity. Guy name Rick from New Yorkk. CoH on way."

Tristram's spelling was off as he lied on the small device. He had no friend to visit, he... he had no recollection whatsoever as to why he was in the city. Somewhere deep in his gut he knew it wasn't natural, not even for the undead to forget something like that.

He finished typing. "So who's the master of you and Miss Tracy?" Tristram was starting to look for an exit, vulnerable on the inside. There were things he had to think over.

Not now though, leave slowly. That's what his blood said.

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

Confused by the strange answer, István kneels down and bites his own wrist, just enough for blood to flow: "Drink if you want to live."

He offers his wrist to the ganger, a look of hope on his face. His other hand is ready to pull the knife out should the offer be accepted. "Take it, please!" he thinks "It is the only way for you to live, my newfound friend."

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, The Meet--

Iris finds her gaze locked with the Demon for just one moment. The thing exults in the vision of Iris, as if seeing her for the first time, the true HER.

For just a moment, the Demon is the only thing in the room that understands her.

Just as quickly as the connection is there, the thing smiles and turns away. It has seen what it wanted to see, and will do no more to it. No, it's too fragile, too new... A young blossom, ripe and beautiful... Let it groooow...

Albert, in all her pretty appearances, approaches Iris. For an instant, Iris sees beyond the elaborate mask, piercing the insecurities of the being that calls itself Albert. An uncomfortable, confused thing. "What should I be?" it seems to ask. She speaks, and Iris feels a broken, husky voice. She hears the voice of a woman.

"Ahhh... Iris. Here."

She hands a small card to Iris, detailed with an address and a small passcode.

"I've got a place where you all can stay for as long as you need to. Ahh, yes."

Does she sense what Iris can see? The vision is gone now, the sound of the TRUE Albert hidden, but Iris knows it was there.


--Tristram, The Meet--

William is not shocked by the question of his master. He casually types out a response.

"I am not at liberty to speak of my master, no offense intended to you Tristram. Tracy is the Ghoul of Cao-Cao, the Nosferatu. She's just a servant and an actor, not like me. Nice to look at though."


--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District, Street--

The man does not raise his eyebrows in shock. He understands the dark offering, and Istvan has no doubt that this man has taken such an offering before. His voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, barely audible, but he feels that he must say the words.

"I am hon... honored by your clemency Great Wun."

He does as Istvan asks... taking only what is offered, as a worshiper would from the offering of a great spirit...

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

As the ganger drinks István smiles happily. When he sees the effects - wounds closing, he hopes - and feels the man's life is no longer in danger he will pull the knife out to prevent it from staying inside the healed wound. Another sip or two after that should close the belly wound and make sure the ganger makes it.

Then he takes his wrist back, licking over the wound. "You are welcome. Who is your master in this city? I would like to meet him, if that is possible."

[Trenchfoot]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

Strength and life return the man slowly, the empowered blood flowing through him as Istvan knew it would. He is silent for several moments before he is able to speak again, offering no resistance of signals of pain as Istvan carefully removes the knife.

"Me mastah be one ah da Iwa, like you Bosss. He our Houngan Asogwe, a great priest who delivahs us from de problems of de worlt. I be callin heem now, dey boys ah dem Broo-Haw dun attack us on a sacret night, breakin da rules ah da Meet. He be wantin to know bout dees quick-fast."

A shaky hand draws his cellphone out of his pocket, and he begins to dial.

Simba, these events actually happen about an hour or so before the Meet itself begins. The other players are operating in the Future, technically, about an hour ahead. I am giving you the chance to interrupt the Haitian if you so choose, stop him from calling or whatnot. If you want to let him go, just make a small post with your actions (such as making sure the Library door is closed perhaps) and he will call his Mastah.

[daelrog]

-Tristram, the Meet-

Not like him? So what was he, a fighter? Of the vampires he had met, Cao Cao seemed the most level headed, not a murdering shaoddw like Malisson, a submissive like Linus, sexually ambiguous like Albert, and didn't have a dragon head. What was up wit that one?

Letting go of his uncertainties for the time being, his attention turned back to the briefcase. What could be so bad as to be one of the big don'ts? He wanted to know what was in there, but not tonight no.

Briefcase.

He looked around the room to see that Iris was gone. Not really his type. Too bossy. Mercedes was taking to some lizard woman, that wasn't too shabby herself. However, none of the vampires here seemed to be like his sire. None of them seemed to flow like she did, so seemlessly around, as if moving endlessly through water. Why not? If anything, they all seemed so dreadfully normal. Except for dragon head, definately didn't understand that one.

Briefacse.

Tristram typed again, this time more slowly. "No problem. Since you can't talk about your master, what about the other vampires? Any of them I should watch out for?"

Briefcase.

Tristram really wished Albert hadn't even mentioned it.

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

István quickly walks out onto the street once more and gathers the dead, carrying the ghoul to where the rest of the dead gangers are. He then looks around carefully and seeing noone drinks some of the blood of the recently slain, replenishing his reserves once more. "Waste is against nature's laws. Use what you get when you get it." he thinks.

Then he goes back into the libary to see what the guy he saved is up to. "He should be done calling his master by now. Let's see where this takes us, no good deed is left unpunished, they say. Well, let's hope for the best..."

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

"Everyone here is of mention, and I would do them disservice to say any one not unique. You will see how all are in time, you are new so no one think bad of you for questions. Kristen is Gangrel, talking to your fellow Ravnos Mercedes. Caution your friend. Baroness intimidating for good reason, but does good things for us. Do not cross her. She will ask things of you. Do them."

As Tristram finishes reading William's message, the corpse in the suit and top hat approaches from behind. Tristram remembers his name as Boh-Drune Mikoubu. The clearly dead thing smiles, and it's a wrong smile, the kind one might see at a funeral.

"You be da Treess-Tramme, yes? Please to be makin your ack-wain-tanss, young wun."

Aaand there it is. The thing extends its hand for a handshake.

William does not move, but he does look directly at the dark-skinned dead man. What could be so wrong with a handshake?


--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

As Istvan re-enters the library, the young man painfully holds out the cell-phone. His face shows happiness, and seriousness.

"De Houngan Asogwe would like to be speakin wid you, Bosss. He wanna t'ank you foh what you dun."


--Mercedes, The Meet--

Kristen chuckles lightly and prepares for a long-winded explanation.

"The Meets only take place when there's something major to announce. Tonight was the announcement of several Hunts; big events where those chosen by the Baroness seek out vampires who have broken the laws of the City. Well, not just vampires... Tonight was meant to be an announcement of the Final Death of Six vampires. Four Fledgelings, two older vampires. The fledgelings were, of course, you four. One of the older vampires was a female Ravnos, a dark-skinned girl by the description. One was another Ravnos with some weird Greek-sounding name, like Erkhas or something like that. He, we caught. Andrea flipped the truck over he was in, and Butcher blew his head off with a shotgun."

Kristen speaks the words matter-of-factly, apparently ignorant of the link between Mercedes and Ekhlas, or between the Indian Ravnos (Tristram's Sire) and Tristram!

[Raider]

---Iris, Leaving the Meet---
She almost snatches it from Albert, but remembers a quick thanks..she isn't quite breathing hard but...the motions are all there.

Before Albert can fully respond to her appearance, Iris makes her next move.

"I just want to...thank you one more time for allowing us to remain in this place. For this great, lifesaving favor, I would like to offer you service in kind, but do not make the mistake of thinking me a slave, that is what I escaped from, the Camarilla...Do not take my offer lightly, my benefactor; I see more than most would know. Good evening, until the next.

The Meet is behind her.

Iris gets into her vehicle; she speeds off into the night, easily pushing 60 mph on the quiet, exhaling city streets.

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, Speeding into the Night--

Albert can only watch in stunned silence as Iris departs. In a rare moment, the eccentric vampire is without response.

In moments, she is cruising, allowing the night and the stars above to pass by as quickly as they may.

Her freedom is short-lived... A police siren wail cuts the quiet of the city streets, and those familiar cherry-top lights appear behind here. There is no one else on the street.

[daelrog]

Don't shake top hat's hand. The words echo in his hed, bounced around, each time chanign the pitch slightly. There's no time to react, no time to think of something clever.

Perhaps with a few more seconds he would have faked a cold, or perhaps he would have played the homophobe, or even simply pretended not to notice the extended hand and start gesturing his hands in the air as he spoke, out of reach of the vampire.

However he did not have this time, and extended his own hand out to be taken.

At least he didn't ask about the briefcase.

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

As Tristram's hand is wrapped in the warm, crusty claw of the dead thing... Nothing. No flash of power, no terrible pain, no thousand evil snakes rushing out of the man's sleeve, no veins bursting with acid...

Boh-Drune Mikoubu continues the smile, and leans on his cane after finishing the pleasant handshake.

"I know dat you be new to dis City, and your legs still be a bit wobbly in da world ah da Iwa. Tonight is nearin its end, and I would be remissss if I dun leave widdout introducin mahself. I am Boh-Drune Mikoubu, vodou Priest and Samedi vamiyah. I would like to be askin for your phone numbah, if'nah may."

William, reading the Samedi's lips carefully, seems to find the dead man's request unusual, but not dangerous.

[Raider]

---Iris, Streets of the CoH---
The reeling Torreador barely slows down enough to make the turn into an empty parking lot, covered in the decay typical of neglected urban centers. Weeds sprouting everywhere, along with the expected levels of beer bottles, condoms, and who knows what other filth. She scrapes the pavement loudly in an over the top fashion with her turnabout and high beams the pursuing policeman.

But she does stop.

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, Streets of the CoH--

The patrol vehicle kicks into high gear, and within the lights, Iris can see two police officers bouncing about as they accelerate.

The sirens continue to wail as the police car struggles to get close to Iris' vehicle, likely planning to attempt a swipe to push Iris out of control while she is in a parking lot, and not near enough to any residential areas.

Alrighty Iris, time to make some Driving Rolls! Depending on what you want to you, you're probably just going to make a Dex + Driving. These are moderately experienced policemen, but they're city police, not Highway Patrolmen. These maneuvers aren't exactly commonplace for your average beat cop, so don't expect to be highly overmatched.

[Raider]

Seeing that they did not heed her warning, she bolts suddenly further and further towards a solid brick wall at the back of the vacant lot, which she can only see in the unlit ruin with the aid of her discipline, avoiding the patrolmen and staying in their headlights to block their view for when she will suddenly break off and send them careening into the barrier with a head on collision.

If she can fool them long enough to make their folly impossible to react to under mortal reaction times...

Her godlike senses are having a field day.

The effects of Iris' auspex induced driving can help her greatly while attempting such a risky maneuver, so I'll add two die to the roll.
[roll0]

[daelrog]

-Trisram, the Meet-

This time Tristram does take his time, carefully weighing his options. His face is blank, as is his bias one way or the other. No doubt if he gives this Samedi his number, it woud be called. In fact, this seemed all too much like Albert. No wonder she didn't want anyone to shake Boh-Drune's hand, he was too much like her.

No, having one vampire with a leash around his neck was enough. He really didn't need another.

It was at that point he could hear the laughter again, from deep within some nameless pit inside his body. Having just one vampire trying to use him was no fun. Two would be better. Two could make things interesting.

"Sure." Tristam flipped open his phone, and presed a few buttons, finding his own number. He rattled it off, two numbers a second.

[Rahva]

Mercedes's mind reels - she'd wanted him dead, more than anything, and yet the thought that he was dead - that he could die at all - seems completely alien, like Kristen is getting her Italian wrong and meant to say something else. She staggers back a step and stares at her, mouth open.
"Erkhas? You mean Ekhlas? He's dead? I mean, really dead, not dead like he already was... I mean, he's not gonna just get up without a face, then?"
She catches herself rambling, closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath.
"Are you sure Ekhlas is... you know, Finally Dead? Or whatever you just called it."

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

István accepts the cell phone from the ganger, nodding his thanks before starting to talk: "Yes?"

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, Streets of CoH--

The cops get aggravated pretty quickly, and one of them even leans out of the window with his pistol. He's about to take a shot at one of Iris' tires before the driver notices the wall... far too late.

He reflexively jerks the steering wheel, but this just serves to angle the car as it slams into the wall. The tremendous impact sends one officer flying out, his leg twisting weirdly as it catches on something inside the patrol car. He sails with a decent velocity before slamming into the concrete.

Patrol cars are designed to be sturdy and resist even the most powerful impacts, but this was a head-on collision. Iris has no idea if the driver is still alive, but the vehicle definitely appears inoperable.


--Tristram, The Meet--

The bizarre creature glances at the number for a moment, then nods with a low bow. He walks toward the door, leaving the Meet entirely, without saying another word.

The slender man hastily taps out a message.

"He is just like that, don't worry. Honorable man, not have reason to plant a little death in you."


--Kristen, The Meet--

It wouldn't be right to say Kristen is slow, but it's obvious that some details just pass her by. This one, the fact that Mercedes is reacting to the news of Ekhlas' death, does not. Kristen puts the two together...

"Aww damn, I'm sorry babe. Yeah, he suffered a Final Death, turned to ashes and blew away. You can ask Butcher and Andrea about it if you like, but they wouldn't lie. Theirs was the only Hunt that technically succeeded tonight."

Kristen gestures to the big hairy man and the attractive woman in green whom Iris had been talking to earlier.


--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

A deep, slightly wheezing voice comes on the other end of the phone. It too has a Haitian accent to it, and there is a quiet power in the voice... Nothing that is overriding Istvan's senses, no sorcery... Just a potency that Istvan can hear.

"I unnderstan' you dun save me boy. Tank you for disss. In exchange, ah gonna give you sum'tin. Find a place to stay queeck, fore anybody else knows you in diss city. Me boy can help you if you need it. Welcome to de City of Hammahs, Gannn-Grelll."

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

"I only did what I felt was right. Thank you for your support, I will see that I find a place this night. And thank you for letting your boy help me, he should know his way around town, right?"

[Trenchfoot]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

Istvan can hear a smile in the other's voice.

"He know de way. You fed him da blood, he have loyalty to you as well. He take you where you need to go."

There is a short pause on the other end of the line.

"You do well in disss City, Gannn-Grelll. I will be gettin to you when da time eess right."

With a click, the phone deactivates. Near Istvan, the young Haitian, still slowly recovering, manages to stand. He looks at the bodies of his comrades, and a different pain, an emotional pain, washes over his face. He bows slightly to Istvan.

"You are de Bosss now." is all he says.

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

István looks at the ghoul, then shrugs: "What's you name, man? I am István, of Clan Gangrel."

[Rahva]

Meche looks over at the people Kristen indicated. They don't look so bad. She nods, smiling now that the news is finally processing a little.
"I suppose I should go and thank them," she says. "Nice meeting you, Kristen. See you around, yeah?"

He's dead.
The bastard's dead.
He's ****ing dead.

Apparently this doesn't mean I stop being a vampire.

Then she turns and heads for Andrea and "Butcher". Sounds like a friendly couple.
She clears her throat as she approaches.
"Excuse me. You must be Andrea. Kristen told me about your Hunt."

[Trenchfoot]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

"Mathieu Sorel, Ghoul to de Houngan Asogwe of de Citee of Hammah's. Accordan to da Mastah, I am at your service Bosss. You save me life when you dun need to, an made enemies ah da Broo-haw boys. What you want, I gon get."

The man genuinely smiles. Loyalty to beings greater than he has clearly been bred in his system, and with Istvan's blood running fresh in his system, powered by adrenaline and body's desperate attempts to heal, Mathieu has no question about wanting to help Istvan.

[spoiler]Mathieu isn't necessarily fully 'ghouled', but there is a personal and blood-fueled loyalty there. Congratulations Mathieu, you have the first mortal 'follower', though he is still primarily loyal to whoever his Master may be."


--Mercedes, The Meet--

Kristen nods as Mercedes leaves, quickly returning to her isolated, lonely pose in the corner of the room. Something Mercedes said, perhaps everything Mercedes said, has made her think.

Andrea, who had been watching Iris' brief reappearance in the Meet, is surprised by Mercedes and her reference to the hunt. There seems to be hidden feelings about the mention of Kristen, but Andrea is damned clever, and they are hidden completely. The artful woman bows slightly, and motions for Butcher, the great bearded flannel-wearer on her arm, to do the same.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Maddamme Mercedes. Was there a relationship between yourself and Ekhlas the Ravnos? Both sired from the same vampire perhaps? Or was he the Sire of that dear Tristram boy?"

[Rahva]

Mercedes bows in response to Andrea and Butcher's bows, mentally switching her register to something more formal, remembering she is at a fancy party here, not in a bar.

"Something like that, yes," she admits. "He was my Sire, not Tristram's. I was wondering if you could perhaps tell me a little about what happened."

She keeps it short on purpose; it's not hard to imagine that the death of a Sire is usually supposed to be pretty shocking, like the death of a parent. She does her best to keep her feelings far away from her face and just settles into a polite smile.

[daelrog]

-Tristram, the Meet-

Plant death in him? Trsitram decided that he didn't want to know. Whatever it could be, it wouldn't do any good to know now that Boh-Drune was gone. He typed up his next question.

"All right, what happens next? Everyone keeps saying I can do whatever I want, but I'm not sure I believe them."

He knew he didn't believe them, any of them. Not Albert, not the Samedi, not Tracy, and in truth, probably not even William. However, he happened to be the next in line to ask.

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes, The Meet--

Andrea nods pleasantly, and relates her story.

"It all began when Cao-Cao reported a Ravnos within City limits. Apparently this guy had been clubbing, running around to bars, and all-in-all avoiding us as best he could. Maybe he knew the rules of this City, maybe he just doesn't trust other vampires like most Ravnos... who knows. Whatever the case, when Cao-Cao got eyes on him, he followed him for a night or so, trying to see if he had any allies."

Andrea shrugs.

"No allies, but he did embrace someone. Apparently there was some confusion, especially when some 9th generation Malkavian wandered in for like 2 nights. Cao-Cao and Albert were ordered to take out the Malk first, and I think the Tzimisce sent his little warrior to go help. Whatever the case, they ended up sending the Malk out of the city instead of killing him, and eventually discovered that there was not just one Ravnos in the city, but THREE Ravnos."

She gestures toward the door where Malisson and Linus were just recently.

"The Baroness sent her childe Malisson and Albert's childe Linus to go chase one of the female Ravnos. Apparently she was wicked sloppy, so it didn't take them long. The other female Ravnos was being Hunted by Albert herself, and Butcher and I went after Ekhlas. We tracked him to a parking lot where we found him trying to flee the city in a beat-up old pick-up. I flipped it, Butcher pulled him out, and... Ashes."


--Tristram, The Meet--

The slender man smiles.

"Good, don't believe. What happens next is you do your best to stay out of everyone's way, and let them keep their secrets. If you make too much noise, someone is going to stomp a mudhole in your chest. This City runs on favors. Do favors for others, and ask favors of them, and only when appropriate. If you are a loner, someone will drink your soul just because they bored and you look like you taste good. If you worried about manipulation, good. If you resist it, someone will make you eat your hands."

[Rahva]

"That sounds about right for him," Meche says.

She doesn't mention the remarks about herself. It wasn't relevant, and Andrea obviously didn't know that the Ravnos she was talking about was standing in front of her. Or she was trying to be funny, but she didn't seem like the type.

"Thank you, then. His death hasn't been far from my mind the past couple of days."

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes, The Meet--

Andrea nods and puts on a great big, albeit fake, smile.

"A pleasure to be of service Miss. If you'll excuse me..."

She and Butcher politely excuse themselves, and prepare to leave. Albert passes them, and whispers something to Butcher as she does so. He nods, and Albert approaches Mercedes.

"Well hey there Darlin! Here, this is for you!"

Albert slides a card out of her cleavage and hands it to Mercedes. On it is written an address.

"I've got a place set up for you Fledgelings to stay in until you get a place of your own. I think I forgot to tell that Toreador, but the last person to stay there was the Tzimisce, so... Yeah. Let Tristram know where it's at before you leave..."

She gives Mercedes a sly wink.

"Or you can leave with him... I think he's getting chummy with William 'Dummy' at the bar. Take care, love!"

Abruptly, Albert moves off toward the Baroness, bracing her shoulders for whatever she's going to talk about...

[daelrog]

-Tristram, the Meet-

Tristram laughs out loud, a slightly harsh sound, a little blood dribbling onto his chin. It was relieving just to hear what he was certain to be true. Screw the other vampires, the ghouls were far better company. They were more honest, less quirky, and havig Tracy flirt with him was a lot more comforting than Albert.

"I think I can do that."

He typed. "I think I can do that."

He tipped his pitcher and tokk down the rest of the drink, wiping his chin off wth a napkin. He wondered whose blood he was actually drinking.

[Raider]

---Iris, Bereaved Parking Lot---

The woman slips out of the car like someone who had been rear ended on the way to meet Jesus the Christ. She's mad, and her gun is flailing about in a loose grip, although that's more from rage than clumsiness.

She approaches the car and scans the area for any remnant of the pursuit.

Looking under and around the car, "Officers...." glancing near the curb, "Officers...." Checking just about every nook and cranny that has a speck of blood on it,"Officers..."

All in a sweet, innocent voice amidst just a few parking spots, littered with pot holes and the bits of skin and near buckets of blood that the corpse of the jettisoned cop left, his organs are all over the wall.

Now where's his partner....

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

Tracy is there in a flash, gathering up the empty pitcher with a dazzling smile. She looks like she's still in the spotlight of a stage show, and all eyes are on her.

"You need anything else, give me a holler darlin'."

She coyly cups her hand around her mouth so that William can't read her lips.

"Go easy on him, kay? He spends too much time around corpses, and I mean real corpses, not the bosses, y'know?"

William notices her tactic, but shrugs it off. The world of ghouls was not one of blind servitude and blissful ignorance. Ghouls knew what was going on, and only the foolish and the prideful ignored them!

William slides over a message, apparently he had been typing while Tristram was enjoying the image of Tracy. It reads:

"I've only heard of the powers of the Ravnos, never seen it. If it is not too much to ask, may I see a demonstration? I'm certain Tracy will volunteer to reimburse you for blood used. ;)"


--Iris, Bereaved Parking Lot--

The jettisoned policeman makes a strange noise, something like "Huuweerrrh". Feebly, his arms scrape at the soil, making some meager attempt to gather up his organs. He's already dead, he just doesn't know it yet. Perhaps he's actually gathering up his sins to carry with them into the next world...

The surviving policeman is still sitting in the front seat of the car, shaking slightly. The door is broken open, and he's fumbling with his seatbelt. His eyes are shut tight, and his lips are blubbering some kind of nonsense. By the looks of it, he's in complete shock.

If Iris were to leave now, the Policeman would probably have no idea what had actually happened that night... She could leave, and nothing would happen. The man could live, and go home to his family, to a better future. He'd even get a retirement out of this catastrophe, go on to make the world a better place in his own way...

[Raider]

--Iris, Blood Soaked Parking Lot--

That dream dies tonight.

"Ah there you are, officer, learn your lesson about interfering with the urgent business of your dietary betters?"

The policeman shudders as he looks upon her, hair tangled every which way and the look of a tigress on her face. He can't make a sound.

"No? Too bad then, or not. I've never been a fan of the men in your line of work, always stomp out the great, protecting the average. In my new world, sadly, only the great shall prosper, so you have no further use but as a foundation."

Blood fills her muscles and she rips the large man from the restraints and sees him badly wound himself on the way out on a jagged piece of metal. She grips him by the throat, nails digging in.

"Join me in a great endeavor, mortal. Lay yourself down in the face of the coming storm. Become an catalyst for the time of extremes."

Her fangs extend and in between his pitiful sobs, not a single scream is heard, just the gushing of his life into hers. But, unlike one of her kind, his soul finds respite with escape, for now.

Iris tosses his lifeless shell on top of his now deceased partner. Between the smell of gas, smoke, blood, and burning asphalt, a gentle rain begins on the scene.

Thankfully, it clears the tiniest drops of blood off on the Imperial's door and the young lady drives, a little slower now, towards her destination.

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, The Haven--

Iris drives again, feeling the blood settle within her veins. It tastes like four parts terror, two parts shock, and one part... despair.

In time, Iris finds her way to the destination indicated on the card. It's located in the tighter streets of the inner city, in a quiet residential area with a few small stores and not much else of significance.

The building itself looms darkly near the center of the street. It's design conforms to the rest of the apartment complexes on the street. Closed off to the world, open only to those who belong, let the rest pass on.

The front door is unobstructed, and the card indicates a room on the first level of the building.

[daelrog]

-Tristram, the Meet-

Tristram put his palm face up and from it a blue flower grew. Unlike the one Tristram had shown Albert earlier in the night, this one had more detail, small veins in each leaf, and slight hsade lighter. I smelled of cinnamon, and if William tried to touch it, it would feel like silk.

Unlike a real flower, it stayed still, stuck in suspended animation. It was something Tristram still couldn't quite grasp, how to make the illusion move.

Maybe a blue flower would be his trademark? Then again, a flower was a little sissy. He'd have to find something better next time.

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

William's eyes sparkle at the vision of the flower. Quickly, he types on the PDA... for quite a while. He presses a button and smiles at Tristram. Tristram can barely see the message on the screen...

'Sending Message... 87% complete.'

William waves his hand dismissively, not realizing Tristram could see it, and then types away. As he does so, Tracy recovers from her shock long enough to tap the flower lightly.

"It's wonderful! Can you do more?"

[daelrog]

Tristram is starting to feel tired, as if his essence if being stretched. What was with everyone though? It felt easy and natural to him, was it tuly strange to be able to make an illusion, here surrounded by the world of the dead?

He looked up at Tracy. She truly was beautiful, beautiful in a slightly rare way. Then agin, maybe he was just seeing things. Tristram hoped everything wasn't just an act.

"I managed to create smell like motor oil to keep some locals from bumping into me and Albert earlier. Covered a molotov cocktail under the guise of a candle right before I set Malisson on fire." He stopped for a moment letting his eyes meet hers.

"All right, one more for the road." All around Tracy, he wrapped her up in a warm cozy blanket, no smell, no sound, no sight, the feeling of being surrounnnded by the security of a bed.

Rolling perception + empathy to try to see what she's really feeling. I feel that a roll is appropriate this time. [roll0]

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, The Meet--

Tracy is at first startled by the sensations that wrap around her, but quickly, this changes...

Her eyes close, and her mind slowly drifts... Back in her memories, to when she was a child, an older man telling her she did well, her father, hugging her tightly... Tracy fades from reality as the illusion draws her into the memory, her facial expressions softening.

In a moment, she is slowly back, the illusion ended. Tracy breathes out in a half-sob, half laugh, and looks at Tristram.

"Wow..." is all she can say.

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

"Ok, Mathieu, it's good to have you with me! First of all we need to take care of those bodies outside. How is that done hereabouts? Do the cops clean up after you or do you have to remove them yourselves?" István asks, sounding more sure of himself than he really is "I made friends today, but enemies as well. Let's see where that takes us."

[daelrog]

Tristram smiles despite himself, almost sheepishly. He feels a little rotten inside, the illusion feeling like a dirty trick, like a drunken "I love you" or a car that suddenly can't turn on once the couple is out in the middle of nowhere. However, she seems genuinely happy. It was nice. It was something a little different from everyone else here. He doubted any of the vampires could ever be satisfied.

"We should hang out again some time after I get settled in, have a coffee or something. Evening preferably."

[Trenchfoot]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

Mathieu waves his right hand dismissively, still clutching his side with his left.

"Naw boss, de Houngan Asogwe gon' take care ah such triviahl mattahs. De mastah be de gatekeepah ah sorts, he dun carry you on to de nex' worldt, dependin on how you be."

He looks at the bodies of the enemy, and his face twists with disdain and hatred.

"Dey dun bring nottin' to ease dey passage in hees eyes, nottin' to offah to de Iwa as dey move on. Dey no more den bodies now bosss."

Istvan is again impressed with the level of faith and belief endemic in this Haitian's personality. Were all of the Haitian population in this City equally brainwashed? Equally predisposed to service to the damned?

If so, this 'Houngan Asogwe' most certainly had a nifty operation!


--Tristram, The Meet--

Tracy smiles and nods.

"I'd like that. Any time you... want me, give CC a call."

She supplements the suggestive offer with a wink, and carefully disappears into the seperate room, leaving the silent William and Tristram alone once more.

[Rahva]

There was that word again, Tzimisce... But before she can ask Albert what the hell it means except they don't like to be stared at, she's off again and Meche settles for figuring it out by going to the adress.
She sees the waitress girl leaving as she approaches Tristram, and it's not exactly hard to figure out they were flirting heavily, but to her surprise it doesn't bother her in the least. It's just a sort of a "oh, good for him", not even sarcastic, and then it's gone.

She goes up to the bar but doesn't sit down, nods politely at William (don't ask about the briefcase) and turns to Tristram.
"Albert gave me this adress, it's where we're supposed to sleep." She puts the card on the bar. "She said a Tzimisce lived there before us and apparently that's supposed to mean something." She takes great care to pronounce the word right.

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes and Tristram, The Meet--

William, carefully reading Mercedes' lips, sneers as he sees her mouth the word 'Tzimisce'. He taps something out quickly on his PDA, and shows it to both Tristram and Mercedes. It reads:

"That ****ing monster."

[Simba]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

István considers the ghoul's words for a moment, then shrugs: "If that is not our problem we need to find me a place to stay next. I have bike outside and a truck a way up the road, so it needs to have a garage or yard. I guess you know about the other needs we have, right?"

[daelrog]

--Mercedes and Tristram, the Meet--

As Tristram take the PDA and types, he speaks to Meche.

"Do you know if we have a ride, or will we have to call a cab?" What he has in front of him is clearly an address, but he has no idea where it's at, nor does he have any form of transportation.

He hands the PDA to William. "It's the dragon-headed thing, right? The 'Tzim'?"

[Trenchfoot]

--István, Elmer T. Glover Library, Haitian District--

"Da needs ah da Iwa be known to me, bosss. I have a place for you to stay, but it not no purr-mah-nent place, deepesss apologies bosss. We can go dere anytime you be wantin, jusss tell me an we go."

If you like, we can skip ahead to this location. Mathieu will help you load your motorcycle into your vehicle and will ride with you to your temporary haven. There, you can ask him any questions you like, so don't feel pressured to RP through the drive. Also, if you want, we can summarize your discussion with him, if you feel pressed for time or if you want to move quickly to the next scene.

[Raider]

---Iris, The Haven---

The elegant old Continental takes an almost appointed place at the nearest spot to the doorway. The sublime regalia the car radiates should be enough to scare off any punk teenager looking for consequence free vandalism.

After gathering her few possessions into an organized satchel, she leaves the car and takes a moment to....take in..the area. She opens her extraordinary senses and feels....more than she has ever felt before in an urban center. The life still finding refuge in it is uniquely strong.

After negotiating a speedy entrance, she rides the elevator to the 5th story, still deciphering the aura of her surroundings. Now, in this pit of debt, small crime, and domestic violence, the optimistic feeling of a booming industrial city loses some of its mystique.

But before she can probe deeper, her feet plant her at the porthole of the group's appointed dwelling.
Room 535, the 3 falling down to look like an "and" symbol, noticeably less maintained than the other rooms, all brimming with mortal cares and concerns...but undoubtedly something...different is leaking from this room...probably the work of that...damned infernal.

She enters.

[Trenchfoot]

--Mercedes and Tristram, the Meet--

William reads the brief message on the PDA and nods voraciously.

"Yes, that is the one, Tzimisce. Dance not with the devil in the pale moonlight."

There are two spaces between the next message.

"If you will pardon me, we must depart."

He shows the pair of messages to both Mercedes and Tristram, nods respectfully, and leaves, briefcase carried carefully in his hand. Oddly, he said 'We', despite the fact that he is alone.


--Iris, The Haven--

The apartment is remarkably spacious, considering the appearance of the hallways and the few other sulking residents of the building. Perhaps it is a suite.

It is completely furnished, with four bedrooms, several dressers, two bathrooms... There are sets of mundane clothing hanging freely there. Beneath the sinks of both bathrooms and in the kitchen are several bottles of storebought chemicals; bleach, OXYCLEAN, windex, etc. There are numerous large crates full of an assortment of useful things, such as hammers, locks, kitchen knives, rope, chains, crowbar, wooden baseball bat signed by William 'Dummy' Hoy, bottles of water, empty backpacks, blankets, rolls of cloth, handcuffs...

And a typed note. Not a computer-printed note, but a note written with a typewriter. It reads:

"Use it, clean it, put it back. Put new things in as necessary."

It is signed in dried blood with an elegant 'A', complete with a cute little heart symbol next to it.

There is a landline phone on the wall near the door, and the door can be bolted shut from the inside. The windows all have solid bars on them, and are completely covered with a thick cloth that is taped to prevent any light from entering.

Feel free to 'modify' the apartment as necessary. Nothing too extreme. If you understand the theme of what's in the crates, feel free to 'Search' for a specific item. It is likely you will find it, as long as its not too out there.

[Raider]

---Iris, The Haven---

Better make my search of this place quick before the rabble of fools shows up behind me

She combs over the minute details of the place, using her discipline to pick out areas of where the previous resident was most active, where anything could be out of the ordinary. And also, for secret compartments, rooms, or any kind of knowledge about the place that would give her an edge over the other residents.


Investigate+Perception=9 [roll0]

[Trenchfoot]

--Iris, The Haven--

Iris finds nothing of significance in the apartment, no sign of modifications, no unusual impressions or lines of fresh paint, no bookcase where Pride & Prejudice can be removed to reveal a secret staircase...

Apparently, the previous resident spent all of his time in Room 2, and the attached Bathroom 2. The bathtub has signs of clawmarks, serious clawmarks, as if a tiger had been taking a bath. The sink's drain is scratchy and worn, as if something caustic had been poured down it repeatedly. The mirror is a replacement mirror, suggesting the previous one had been removed, or broken. On the sink counter, there are several linear scrapes, similar to those one might find on a cutting board. Someone with a very sharp knife was doing some cutting in their bathroom.

The bedroom has the odd, linty squares that are left behind after applications of tape. Based on where they are, it seems someone had something taped all over the room. The carpet is new here, and though the entire apartment was recarpeted at least 6 months ago, Room 2 was recarpeted 2 weeks ago. The bed posts have scratches and gouges in it, as if someone struck them, or something metal was wrapped around them. The smoke detector at the center of the ceiling is disabled, but all of the smoke detectors in the apartment are disabled, so this is not unusual.

Despite the fresh recarpeting, moving some of the furniture reveals miniature scrapes on the walls. The furniture in this room has done some moving. Old, barely perceptible indentations on the carpet in the hallway outside Room 2 shows that the furniture from Room 2 was removed, and left in the hallway for at least 2 days.

The final detail is in the Armchair. The arms of the chair have distinct scrapes on the bottoms of the arms, near where someone's wrists would be if they sat perfectly still on the chair. Similar scrapes are on the legs, where someone's ankles would be. The circular knobs on the bottom of the chair's legs match scuff marks found in Room 2's bathroom, so this Armchair spent some time in bathroom 2.

Iris, to sate her own curiosity, places the armchair in the exact spot in the bathroom, matching best she can the legs of the chair with the scuff marks on the floor. She does so, and looks at the wall across from where the person would be sitting. Nothing. On a whim, she flips it around, and check the other wall.

There. The paint is the exact same color, but its fresher than the rest.

There is nothing more...

[daelrog]

-Tristram, the Meet-

Tristram gave a causal wave of goodbye to William, probably the closest thing he could call to a friend at this point, though friend was still something he was currentl unwilling to call the ghoul. He looked up at Meche, his mind briefly jumping to Cao Cao's taxi, before his thoughts wee flung back to the Meet which was slowly but surely disbanding.

"I think we should probably be on our way too Mercedes. I'll hail a taxi if Cao Cao or somebody else isn't there to drive for us."

[Rahva]

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I could sleep for a week."
I gotta get some transportation of my own...

She nods at William again and looks over her shoulder at Kristel so she can wave if she happens to be looking in her direction.
She's mentally bracing herself for whatever the Tzimisce did to the place, expecting blood and gore on the ceilings or at least used condoms floating in the toilet or something. Maybe both.
She heads outside, hoping Cao-Cao is on duty.

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, Mercedes, The Meet--

Ahh, there he is, reliable old Cao-Cao, keeping his true face in the shadows underneath a streetlight. The soft glow of a cell phone screen illuminates his features for just a moment before he snaps it shut. He turns toward the two Ravnos, and opens his driver's side door.

"Guess I got a coupla fares. You two off to your haven before the sun rises? If so, hop on in and I'll take you there."


--Istvan, Haitian District, ???--

Istvan and Mathieu drive in comfortable conversation. Mathieu does his best to give Istvan a brief rundown of where he was, and though his English is heavily accented, the young Haitian is bright and understanding. He knows exactly what vampires are, and all the clans.

Mathieu directs Istvan into a more residential area, with many looming apartment buildings. It's not the best place in the city, by far, but its one where no one is judged for their late-night outings.

Mathieu exits the vehicle and stretches, feeling his stomach muscles knitting back together from the knife wound. Such is the power of a vampire's gift to the mortal body.

"Dees ain't all Haitian here bosss, people of every type live here. Dees where I make my home, an where you be stayin if you like."

Mathieu guides Istvan up to the 1st floor of the apartment building, and opens door 108. Inside, Istvan's senses are greeted by the smells of cooking, and a Haitian woman with brightly-colored clothing stands in the doorway. Mathieu speaks a few words to her in Creole, and she nods and smiles at Istvan welcomingly. Mathieu gestures to a door at the end of a hallway, slightly seperate from the rest of the house.

"Dat room is yours to use as you weesh, bosss. You need anytin', you dun let me know anytime."

Mathieu smiles widely, everything about this place is welcoming.

Welcoming to the dead, and to the monsters of the night.

[daelrog]

Tristram walked over to the cab and opened the door to Mercedes, though it was done half-heartedly, all of his intention focused on Cao Cao. So, you're ghoul is pretty cute. Say... you mind if I steal your ghoul? Excuse me sir, I'd like to date your daughter... I mean ghoul.

"So... Cao Cao, how may ghouls do you have?"

The question felt awkward to him on all levels.

[Simba]

--Istvan, Haitian District, ???--

"This is strange. He treats me like I was his best friend. Well, I did save his life, but I expected some more...distance. I hope I can trust him. I do, basically, but you never know these days, do you?"

Istvàn smiles back at the woman, bowing slightly. "Thank you for taking me in."

He walks over to the indicated room and opens the door. "Now this is interesting. A room for vampires...let's see."

[Trenchfoot]

--Tristram, Mercedes, Outside the Meet--

Cao-Cao seems to smile in the darkness, and waves his phone.

"She thinks you're cute too, Tristram. Tracy's the only one I have. Why do you ask?"


--István, ???--

The room is rather simple. There is a computer which is connected to the internet, several books, a phone book and a land-line phone, thick tape covering the window, and several... 'resting places'.

There is a coffin, a large box of soil, a bed, and a closet. One for every type of resting vampires, perhaps.

[Simba]

--István, in his room--

Looking around the room, István is completely confused "What the f***? I mean, these are pros, this is a f***ing vampire hotel!" he thinks, trying not to show his emotions on his face. Turning back to Mathieu, he smiles and asks: "Do you have many guests here? This looks rather well prepared, you know? Not that I mind, but I am curious. Would you please enlighten me?"

[Trenchfoot]

--István, in his room--

Mathieu is pleased that Istvan appreciates the... unliving conditions.

"De Mastah has me keep dees place well-tended just for situations like dees. He say "We dun nevah know when we find a fren who need a place. Keep it well for dem." It da Mastah's wish, an it my wish too. Da Iwa deserve respect and Hoss-Pee-tallah-tee, an we are here to serve dem."

[daelrog]

-Tristram, Cao Cao's Cab-
"No reason, jsut curious." Tristram spoke mostly under his breath, emore thana little embarassed to how transparent he was at the moment. Apparently his ability create illusion did not extend to hiself. He slid into the taxi and kept quiet, mostly from the barrage to his senses coming to a temprorary end, partly because he wasn't sure what to say to Cao Cao, or mercedes for that matter. What could he say anymore? What does one say when they trun into a vampire, get a crush on a ghoul, and become surrounded by all manner of monsters, some of which didn't even need fangs to be called such.

Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe his life before was a dream, but if that were the case then his dreams felt more real than the confusing reality he lived in now. As he clsoed his eyes half asleep he could still hear the faint laughter emanating frm his blood, the blood that he had drunk from Tracy Gol's pitcher, and the blood from the church.

"All that blood..." His words were less than a whisper.