Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open

[daelrog]

The estate was just outside the city proper. Each of the vehicles had to pass through two security checkpoints before being allowed to pass. The first one seemed routine, checking under the hood of the car and below it. A few men with flashlights glanced inside briefly. The second one was a bit different. A number of men wearing cheap suits, each with a shaved head came before each group, taking any weapons they had which were given freely. Danielle’s car had the most weapons, taking a full three minutes for all the weapons to be handed over, including Danielle’s knife at Al’s insistence.

The estate itself was large, with three wings attached to the main building. It was at the east wing each of the newly embraced were dropped off, left alone. Not even their sires stepped out with them. They were met by another man with a shaved head, this time dressed in a monk’s robe, who blindfolded each. They were led inside to sit on a chair, leather, one which the characters could sink into and get comfortable.

It was within fifteen minutes that they arrived, and with the loud crack of snapping fingers, their blindfolds were released. They found themselves sitting in the same room, all of their chairs pointed towards a hunched figure in the center. It was dressed in rags like a beggar, and had a distinct hunchback. Its face was covered by three layers of hoods, though a single, glowing orange eye stared back at them. Clockwise they were arranged Erica, Rick, Claire, Danielle, Amy, Faruq, and back to Erica.

“I am Donovon.” The thing’s voice sound feminine, rich and deep. “I am to instruct you on the procedures to make sure you do not warrant reason for the Prince to kill you.” He eye rested on Danielle. “At least, no more reason than he has already. Each of you will be allowed one question before we begin.”

As she spoke each of the newly embraced was handed a glass with blood in it. Danielle was given a large plastic jug instead.

Amy
You recognize the name Donovon as the one the other’s mentioned before. You know that like you, she is Nosferatu. Slick and Mike were unarmed, though Flat Face handed over a pair of brass knuckles and a sawed-off shotgun.

Claire
Victor handed over a small sidearm, but Rogan had no weapon, joking that maybe they should hold him instead, if they dared. The guards did not respond to his challenge. His parting words were, “Don’t trust any of them.”

Danielle
There wasn’t enough time for Al to tell you about Jackal the Nine-Bladed, only to promise she would soon enough. As to why he would hunt her, it was simple. First, Danielle was the only one he had got a good look at, and two, Danielle was the only one who had easily discovered connections to the mortal world.

As to putting her family in danger, Al simply said that her family and friends were only in as much danger as Danielle chose.

Erica
The ride over to the Prince’s was pleasant. Josef had a sharp wit, commenting on some of the latest cultural trends in the Americas, mostly his pity for the poor humans who had to endure it. He did admit though that it was a vast improvement over the 1980s.

When she was let out, Josef assured her that he would be waiting alongside the Prince when she was brought in.

Faruq
Melani did not speak to Faruq. In fact, she sat the front of the limousine with the driver, leaving Faruq alone in the back to his own thoughts. Any weapon he had was confiscated by the servants of the Prince at the second checkpoint, the wouldn’t be able to proceed until then. He had no parting words from his sire.

Rick
On their way, he began to hear more and more about how strange the night was. Apparently, there were six of them total who had been embraced, something that simply didn’t happen often, and certainly not in a medium sized city such as Havensworth. Apparently two were from Clan Ventrue, the former leaders of the city, and who owned the biggest financial institution in the city. Another was Clan Nosferatu, a clan of monstrous-looking kindred who now ruled the city. A fourth was Clan Gangrel, those in touch with the wilderness and their inner beast. The last was a clanless, a Caitiff, a young girl who’d most likely be killed as her sire wasn’t given permission to embrace.

Quenton reassured Rick that he’d be fine as he was dropped off.

All
Everyone has half a blood point in their glass, you need to drink a second to get a blood point. Danielle has three blood points worth of blood in her hand.

[Thundercracker]

Erica Lee
Still wearing the professional outfit she'd had pressed specifically for a job interview at an investment firm, the young woman shifted in her chair, attempting to find a comfortable position and only partially succeeding. She glanced around at the others, but when it became apparent that none would immediately speak, she raised her free hand.

"Hello Donovan, I'm Erica," she said.
"What's your best advice?" she asked.

[daelrog]

The woman, or thing perhaps, shuffled itself around to face Erica, gazing at her. "Observe. Watch how the kindred act tonight. See who are allies, see who are enemies, see who seems to hold power, and who are on the outside."

[Dark Seeker]

Keep calm.

These were the words Rick repeated to himself like a chant. He truly was in the belly of the beast, with men and women who could kill him with a flick of their wrists. The former cop intended to watch, observe, and perform when needed. He started by observing the other new Kindred. All of them were likely more or less as in the dark as he was. The detective took some comfort in that thought.

"Nice to meet you Donovon. Name's Rick." He greeted the thing, attempting to be as polite as possible. Even if it was a monster, it deserved some respect, at least until it showed itself to be anything other then polite.

"How many Kindred tend to come to these little parties? Thirty? Forty?" He figured it was best to know just how big this society truly was.

[daelrog]

"There is no need for pleasantries, Tremere, but I'll remember the courtesy." She moved forward a few scuttles. "There were 31 kindred recognized by the Prince in this city, though not all will be in attendence. Two kindred have met final death this night, then there are the six of you who wait to be accepted or not."

[Worlok]

Back in the shower, Faruq had had a revelation visited upon him, he was sure of it. Reconsidering his battles of the day, and all what had come of it, he had recognised a certain, repeating pattern interspesed throughout it all: When he had planned and thought in advance, struggled to keep his self-control, he had been beaten, every time:

I trieda' push her out da window, she jus' up an' noticed dat. Even though I'd been all sneaky-like an' distractin'. How? When I woke up, I trieda' play at stupid, like, I don't even know who I am anymore, and it di'n't even get recognised. Why? Even dis Kirsch-ass ponce-o looked at me all knowin'-like, and all dis time, dem's both been frontin' threats. Why'd they do that to a guy dey's killed? A guy who's like fully aware dey got super-powers? 'cause, ob-vi-ous-ly, they can read mah mind. Like dat. Everytime I trieda' outsmart 'em, I... well... I did it, eventually. But still, they seemed so outta it all, like there's not even anything new to that. Like it ain't even worth nah respect when a guy goes up against a whole -room- fulla living dead without even a shirt on - and he makes 'em jump! The hell was that all about?

But when he had acted on instinct and impulse, he had typically gotten what passed for successes out of it:

I mean, I went up against her with a cheap-ass age-old lighter, just like that. She hadda strength an'a speed an'a teeth and I? I was already down for the count 'n' bleedin'. And den I come up wi' mah hands on mah lighter, and I swear, she up friggin' -jumped-. Thinking back to that moment of obvious fear in Melanie's eyes, a predatorial smirk had graced his features once more, and the water pouring down upon and all around him had shortly reflected scenes of carnage in the pale, red dribble it had still been washing off his maltreated skin. And I promised her I would see her suffer. Coat myself in her blood and speak prayers atop her corpse one day. And I -meant- it. Every word. And dis thing inside me? Jus' kept roarin', I should wait for her snapping, catch her in rage, bite down on the fist that would strike me and rip and tear. Until I got the blood. And suddenly, I's all calm, and in time for their little whatsit with Uncle Ahmad's voice there.

And only then had he remembered what exactly it had been that he had thought:

So, obviously, they can read my mind, somehow. I told her to read my plans in my thoughts, and she did, 'parently. Next mistake she'd make there. Braggin' 'bout it, like a goddamn punk. Tol' me she can read it, see it, hear it, jus' by lookin' at me once. She tipped her hand. They jus' keep betrayin' themselves all over, nothin' for me to do. And all a' dat means that I can't jus' plan my crap. Thinkin' means that I level the field in their favor, and that is tha last thing I'd want. Dey's terrified a' me packin' my instincts, though. And that's how I gotta roll. They laid me in heavy chains, and tol' me it's for my protection, like I'm a retard. But they were afraid a' me, no two ways about it. And so, I gotta keep on rollin', winning, but I can't just plan. I gotta act on instinct, hella sudden, hella cool. And inbetween two boutsa sudden cool, I gotta weasel. Lion-blooded Ferret, bitches. I am just too good for you.

He had felt a lot like an animal, in a good way, all the way here to this place. Like something you'd keep in the back of your car, afraid to sit next to it, like Melanie had obviously been. After he had stepped out of the shower, having considered and deliberated like many a time when watching the rain, and nursing his bong on his knee while eating, he had felt relieved. He had gotten the chance to remove all the waste from his system, to think, to take stock, and to regain focus. In a way, it almost seemed to have done more for him than all the blood, but it was blood for which he lusted, hungered, now. And the absence of the rain, as well as Melanie's implying silence, had left him room to ponder his new outlook, to get used to this new suit, and to ultimately clean his mind and very pointedly think about nothing (which here meant "various colorful parrots using various colorful cursewords in rapid succession in front of his inner eye").

Yes, Faruq al-Assad had tried to be in control. The nagging questions Miss Forrest's repeated comments about hatred and wanting to make things pleasant had instilled within him, he had done his best to force aside. He would not, could not allow himself to love her, forgive her, respect anything about her - except her superior strength. What he had sought to do was to remain in control of himself, and of his surroundings, and yes, a series of most unfortunate overreactions had eventually been his end. But he had gotten his second chance, and his god-given mission, and proof and a cause and a conscience to go along. So maybe he would be expected to try and act less out-for-power this time around? To less persistently strive for control? Perhaps what all this implied was the need for him to act purely on instinct from time to time, to leave the Lion out only where all the Ferret's feints had faltered?

At any rate, the Ferret in question had chosen to go with that.

Yet as for questions for Donovon, he had too many to ask.

The first, and most obvious one, had naturally been "Damn, lady, what kinda freak-show they pulled ya out from? You a goblin or somethin'? Crap. Seriously, get outta my hair like now!", but he had kept his mouth shut in front of her, partially because she seemed to actually be important, and partially because she was certainly not the only one of such... captivating looks currently in the room. The other one would appear to be in a rather similar position to him and his own, of course - But still, he preferred to not overtly delve into appearances at this point.

Really, they simply were so ugly. But then, that one kid there was drinking her blood right out of a jug, where they'd been given glasses (I miss my glasses, still!) - and what would it matter, then? Appearances, where they mattered, lay in style as much as looks. Thus, Hussain would always tell him, and as such he kept his cool.

Instead, he would sit, drink, bask in his own greatness, study the other five people and the thing in front, or four people with one thing among them and another one in front, hope for a refill, and hear the other's questions out before asking his own - which would probably be for a refill, after all.

Really though, about thirty? And we's supposed to cow-tow to them 'n' what? Can't say I like this whole thing one bit. And, feeling like it couldn't hurt him to make allies, he tried to project his relaxation all over the room, trying to take the edge out of this whole situation, waiting for his turn to speak.

Tl;dr: Keeps mouth shut for now, will ask last, if possible. And not actually about a refill, I guess it bears pointing out. :smalltongue:

[Strawberries]

Thank you, Mike. Thank you so very much for the wonderful evening, Amy thinks, sarcastically, as she sits blindfolded in a strange room. She sighs. Can't keep blaming him, can she? She has made her thoughts on the matter very clear, and now is probably the time to stop thinking about what's happened and start thinking about how to, you know, survive in the days to come.

When the blindfold is finally dropped, Amy turns around to look at the other people in the room None of them has fangs is her first thought, which she supposes is her brain's polite way to say 'none of them are hideous monters like you'. Well, Mike had warned her about that, at the very least. He had said that this particular curse is only of the Nosferatu. Aren't I so very luc... Wait, i know that guy.

That guy is the young man sitting on her immediate left. Amy mentally substitutes the gray suit with a hoodie, adds a swagger and an assured smile... She has saen him sometimes at the shop. More often than not with a thick smell of smoke surrounding him, and not cigarette smoke, either. Well, if I know him, he most certainly won't know me. Amy reminds herself to stop staring. Can't be pleasant having someone like her staring at you, after all.

She stares at her glass without drinking, for a moment, then mentally steels herself and downs the contents. Whatever taste she was expecting, that was not it. It tastes sweet, actually. Well, at least I like it. It would have been awkward if I couldn't stand the taste. She very consciously chooses to not think about where the liquid in her glass is coming from. Now is really not the time.

"Ma'am" she starts. Madam? Miss? Awful abomination from the night? Speaking as a fellow awful abomination, Amy figures it wouldn't hurt to be polite "Would something be requested from me, in particular?" This is the person that chose her, after all, at least according to Mike. She doesn't want to err for lack of etiquette.

[daelrog]

"No." The words almost hit like a hammer, at least at first. "The five of you will go through the tradition of being accepted into the city. Once that is over, you will be handed back to your sires. Your sires, and the elders of your Clan if they are not one and the same will isntruct you on any special duties you have, after the formalities."

There was no mistaking that she said five, not six.

[dancrilis]

Danielle shivered, she had been right anyway whatever else they this was the behaviour of a crazy cult, handover your weapons was sensible, blindfolds to cause a sense of helplessness, new members held together first to build a sense of community, coupled with the cloaked leader of the ceremony.

She looked at the jug of blood - she doubted that getting more blood was to be considered a sign of high status - she smiled at that lightly, what else could one do in these circumstances.

She tried a sip, she expected the taste of blood to be as it always was during and after fights where she wasn't fast enough, it wasn't thought tasting refreshing not unlike a glass of refreshing water after a hard work out, her stomach churned at the thought - this was someone kid, maybe a parent or a sibling - and she was drinking there blood like a refreshment, but she had to that was clear, maybe Jackal the Nine-Bladed was the hero here and her just an unfortunate accident that he had tried to save before she became a monster like the others, she continued drinking trying to control herself while forcing the blood to her injured leg, to try to heal. But Al had made it clear he might go after her mother and friends, and she would not allow that.

She sat for a few minutes like this hearing the others speak and the leader answer before she focused on anything except the blood and her own hunger.

Finally looking around, mostly women she noticed, that added other unfortunate implications, but than Al was a woman and did not seem a slave so maybe it was just her being bad-minded.

She had to stop herself recoiling from the hideous creature beside her, her fingers tightening on her chair to prevent herself leaving it, the rest looked normal enough but deep down the monster was only showing outwardly what they all likely were within, if the woman caught her reacting she forced a small apologetic small for it, she was new too so likely not her fault.

Sitting in her chair in her tracksuit, she caught her own smell for the first time that night being to preoccupied earlier the sweat from her jobbing long sense having settled into the clothes, she was decidedly uncomfortable as she thought of her question, can I make a phone call to avoid a manhunt being called, sensible but her mother was not panicky with her, she knew that she could care for herself - hell she might even still be at work, can you explain the rules that I have to follow they had already indicated they would get to that, can I have more blood the thought turned her stomach, where did the blood come from who had suffered for her to feed ... that one stuck with her but for a meeting of thirty or so the person may not even be able to answer. Why am I regarded as so dangerous this one was important but not something she wanted advertised.

Her voice soft and respectful with a defeated sound to it, "what is your best advise you can offer me to avoid being destroyed while securing as much independence as possible for myself", truthfully she wasn't even sure the courtesy of a question applied to her also given how they had acted so far.

[daelrog]

Donovon laughed, and her age showed a little more clearly, as her deep alto turned into a raspy, chilling sound. "Oh, you're a smart Caitiff, aren't you? To those of you unware, this girl is Clanless. She is of weak blood, the lowest of the low. Unlike the rest of you, her sire had not earned the right to pass on the curse to another. Whereas the rest of you are entering a coronation of sorts, this one is walking into a trial.

"Act meek. Act respectful. Beg if you have to. Do not correct anything a kindred says, even if you believe them wrong. Even if you know they're wrong."

[dancrilis]

Respectful, she could do that, she had been practising for college interviews, meek might pose a challenge, but she could try at least.

"Thank you Donovon", there that was respectful, she could do this, "might I offer an idea that may save you and yours some time or annoyance?", and that was somewhat meek.

[Soras Teva Gee]

If the others in the room took time to notice Claire they'd find her dressed plainly, sneakers jeans and a grey tee, plain except for the words 'Heavensworth College' printed in block black letters. They were also showing signs of being quite damp from the ill weather. Her shoulder length dark brown hair hung loose, and most definitely could use some care, tangled and windblown with more then a bit of dampness to it. Though aside from what had evidently been a rough night she could certainly be called attractive, just not this moment unless "disheveled" was high on the list of desired traits. Something not helped by Claire's present demeanor. Her arms were crossed over her breasts, while the fingers of her right hand tapped on her other arm. Her eyes went around the room slowly, a cat eying a new environment and irritated at having been disturbed.

Claire was not sure what she had been expecting but she did not like being blindfolded to be led off like a sheep. She'd already had a rough time and was in no mood to be taken off by more strangers. What a great joke that would have made, killed twice in one night. It seemed though that the medieval subterfuge was just that though. Claire found herself faced with a man (woman?) wrapped in robes, they looked like someone had ripped them off Friar Tuck and added a hood. Those eyes though, not a human then. Another vampire then?

After taking in Donovan Claire's eyes had darted to the ugliest woman, she'd ever seen. God how many vampires looked right out of Nosferatu? The rest were better. One was a teenager, couldn't have been in college long. The rest were more alike at a glance a woman and two men in business suits like she'd grown up seeing her dad come home from work in. Profession types then? At least the older two, who confirmed that impression when they spoke. The third, something Middle Eastern, looked too young for that. An interesting collection of people to say the least.

Claire hung back and let the others speak. One question was a bit silly at this point in the game. Apparently living forever didn't give these vampires any clues on how to educate. Questions came last, you were supposed to lecture first and then open the floor. She had many but with no basis to go on how could she prioritize their importance?

The others responses started to fill in the picture some. Evidence suggested that vampires came in different types, Rogan had called himself Gangrel that one had been labelled Tremere. They didn't sound like names, or not personal ones at least. And the teen, clanless they said, was subject to destruction for what had happened to her. Vampire law it seemed was pitiless, killed again just for family relations or more importantly it seem lack of. Rogan had told her vampires were political, she'd been expecting something a bit less tribal. Damn but what could she do to help the girl? For that matter should she even try help her? Being a dead parasite had to demand some sort of ethical revision. Claire stared into the cup of in her left hand seeking to answers to her own questions.

Though speaking of cups of blood. She devoured Charlie for the same stuff now filling a cup. Worse still, though sated pretty well she knew she could have more. Something inside her wanted more and more. No this time it didn't get to win. She couldn't go around leaving corpses behind her, she needed to have control. And it would start with moderation, she'd fed tonight and that was that. Claire put the cup on the nearest space that seemed convenient, the floor if need be. The universal signal for not interested.

"If there's to be a trial and a ceremony then all this seems to be just eating up time," she said after some time, "One question is a nice favor and all but I could come up with dozens just off the top of my head. There's a whole world that humanity and science know nothing about but some old myths. If its all the same I'll hold off asking any question until I have enough understanding to ask a real one."

[Strawberries]

"Thank you, ma'am", Amy replies when her question is answered, then wisely shuts up. She had been thinking more along the lines of etiquette and less along the line of duties, as Donovan had seemed to misunderstand, but it was nice to know that she wouldn't be held in any special standard. Wait, did she just say five? What about... A moment later, Donovan meaning is made clear.

And I thought I had got the short end of the stick. She turns to look at the woman Donovon had defined as lowest of the low. She had flinched, before, when looking at her, and had tried to cover it up. Yeah, can't really blame her here. Despite that, Amy tries for an encouraging smile. Given the kind of face she has to work with, how much it looks like a proper smile and how much like a grin of the kind 'I'm gonna wait under your bed this night to slit your throat and eat your liver' is anyone's guess, but it's the best she can do under the circumstances.

[daelrog]

Donovon's smile could be felt by everyone. "Oh, Rogan's young pup is clever. Yes, I am wasting all of your time. As we speak, your elders are learning what they can about you, figuring out how the power dynamics in the city have changed. Now then, do you have a question Scotsman, or can we proceed to the part that's not wasting all of your time?"

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica turned her gaze to Faruq, her expression neutral. Straight black hair had been retied into a neat bun on the back of her head during the car ride. Though her face was carefully non-committal, her posture betrayed a hint of curiosity at his answer, or perhaps it was just anticipation of the struggle she expected in understanding his accent.

[Worlok]

Well. All eyes on me, they's on about the wastes of time, and no point trying to get smart with these. Having had spaced out for but the shortest of instants there, and in the throes of stress levels ironically lowering in the face of the impending meeting, Faruq was not entirely sure whether he actually had any important questions.

We're supposed to be all careful and polite around the old guys, roll with their bull**** and act like they's smarter than us. Nothing new. We're also supposed to leave a good impression. What more is there to know? The non-Donovon-abomination had been looking at him, he could have sworn it. Likewise, the others had by this point at least noticed his presence - and he, in turn, had noticed that except for the dude that Donovon had called "Tremere", and possibly any number of the goblin-looking two, he was alone among girls in here. One more reason to not act stupid, obviously.

"Caitiff" means Clanless? This is a thing of Clans. Then that means trouble for her. Eyes on me. Whole lotta ladies in here with me. One of 'em clanless. Goblin said five, not six. Whole lotta crap going on here, then. Just means I gotta be hero-tier. Act cool, then they'll be cool 'round me, and act impressed as necessary, then I can impress. Make allies, settle things, work out advantage. How? No clue. Can act like having one, however. He had realised a short while ago that there was actually a lot of opportunity for him to act calm, in control, and confident around this whole "vampire" thing - After all, if people like Forrest and Kirsch, who had all reason to be scared of, mad at, and nasty to him, took time out to ask him what kind of blood he wanted, and arranged for it, then it stood to reason that the blood inside his glass was likewise not the type that had been suffered for, and he did not have any reason to be worried here in the least. (Except if that stuff was all bogus, and this is some torture victim I'm havin' here. Which would mean they'd been lying, and that would in turn mean I would have found that much out by now. Somehow. Idiots that they are.)

As certainly, noone else was as smart as he had been about that one, however, this meant he could, for one, drink blood - which might in the end have something to do with his superpower potential - yet, thereby, also send out to everyone else in the room that he was on top of this, perfectly fine with what he had become, and likely carried some sort of plan around in his head. As he did not actually have one, beyond "not letting anybody get the drop on him" and "leaving good impressions", not even a mind-reader could track it down, though, and as such he would now wield the element of surprise, of knowing-what-noone-else-would-know, and stand the best chance out of everyone in here to hold his own in there. Which, in turn, meant instant respect, instant "being interesting", and ultimately a clear sign that he was not impressed with the show they'd put on for them at all. Which I ain't, jus' to make it clear.

Speaking of... They's gonna find out about us what they can? Then that means Forrest is likely filling them in with the stuff we are thinking now as we speak. Or that any number of them is mind-readers, too. That means I shan't play games with them. And that means, just act natural, all instinct up in dis. So, showtime, buddy. Sudden cool. Faruq made to rise, enjoying the notion of at least a good-sized share of the eyes in the room having at least glanced at him by this point, cooly presented his now-emptied glass, and as he looked around, could almost feel just how damn good he looked with this as he put on his sexy voice and responded: "Well, certainly, Miss Donovon, we can. The name's Faruq, however, and if you'd let me have my question, then, I'd have to ask ya whether we could get a refill up in dis before we go, y'know?" And with that, he gestured at the various glasses and cups and plastic jugs with his own emptied drink container, whipped out his most dazzling salesman smile, and enjoyed feeling like he knew just exactly what he was doing - once and for now, if nothing else. "No point having us run in hungry, after all." ...Oh well. Now it's out, coulda timed that better. But why bother, my point's been made. And he, Faruq the Ferret al-goddamn-Assad, was, once again, in control.

Also, screw it, tempted to blow Presence for a first impression now. Should I, folks, what say you? :smallbiggrin:

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire gave a satisfied grunt. That hadn't been much of a guess, but it seemed she'd jumped all the barrels after all. Of course Donovan and anyone else that might be watching didn't need to know that. Less it seemed was more in this so she said nothing further.

When Faruq spoke she'd suppress her suprise. Despite his appearence his voice said Scottish. That was certainly, irregular to say the least. He'd been keeping quiet too, and that question was perhaps too trivial even for this being a waste of time. If he'd really been after more blood he could have just asked for her cup, she'd not touched it. Maybe he was attempting to score points in a different manner.

Claire stopped herself though, she was playing into the game that was going on. Considering her fellow newbies as maneuvering politicians. She'd fallen into the mode of thought almost by instinct. Unless it was actually instinct. A troubling consideration. Perhaps the animal inside her was more subtle then she'd imagined. If so it would explain something about Rogan. Was that her fate, to end up a cold calculating animal with no affection for another, just ledgers of win and loss. Very troubling.

[daelrog]

"You all may." They could here scuttling about as the servants moved to get more glasses, and a second jug if need be.

As the servants handed those who wished a second drink their full glass, Donvon spoke. "The five of you embraced with permission will enter first, the order does not matter. Goo in single file, and do not speak until spoken to. There will be a long table to your right, occupied by seven kindred. These are the Primogen, the elders of each Clan. In the center will be Jean du Noir, he is of my Clan, and Amy's." She gestured, pale, gnarled fingers towards Amy. "So I suggest you prepare yourselves for someone less than pleasant on the eyes. Each of you will be introudced by your sires. Once again, stay silent. Jean will list you the six traditions our kind lives by. You will swear upon these laws, pnealty of final death. After that, you will be free to mingle with your peers and your betters.

"Danielle, you will stand to the side as the others are accepting. Once they have sworn their vows, you will stand trial. Jean will be your judge, and your jury. Al Rowe will speak on your behalf. It has yet to be decided who you take the lead role in your prosecution. I believe they are arguing over who will get the privilege now. The trail will be short.

"You have one minute to finish your drink and prepared yourselves. First impressions count."

I'll give 24 hours before I post them walking into the banquet.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick sips from the blood, though he does not feel hungry. Still, better get used to the taste, seeing as he would be consuming it for eternity.

The disturbing part was that he was already used to it. He wasn't quite human anymore, and the thought sobered him.

The former detective rises to his feet. He casts a brief glance at Danielle, the leper of their group. He finds herself hoping she survives. To be caught up in all this, then killed because of some backroom politicking... it would be a damn shame, and the exact kind of injustice he fought against in mortal life. To find the same sort of injustice pervaded this society would frustrate him. Especially if these kindred's ideas of an "execution" was letting someone like Harry tear the poor victim apart.

[Worlok]

Lady, we ARE prepared for someone less than pleasant on the eyes. By now, if nothing else. The initial icebreaker he had just landed fuelling him, he happily drank his glassfull, straightened up, fussed about with his hair a little to look more stylishly dishevelled - which was, after all, the look he was typically going for, and if the look in the mirror he had gotten after his shower and while dressing up had been any reliable indication, he did, if anything, look less dead now than when he'd been alive, his rebirth having done away with the pallor and rattiness his erstwhile habit had left him with over the years - and made sure to practice his standard facial expressions - No point letting his eyes betray that he thought of this whole affair as a crude, witless joke at everyone's expense, now was there? Reckoned such. I mean, seriously, that girl wasn't given a choice about this, and neither was anyone else, if my way of... recruitment is standard in any way. But instead of jacking the guy that actually -knew- the rules and "embraced" - Mighty One, how I hate that euphemism - some chick without any permission, anyway, they put his -victim- on the line and want to -kill- her. Hardly a halfway sane system these peeps got going, here. So, he could score points by acting cool, no question. He could do respectful. He could play along. But perhaps he could leave an even better expression by taking his chances where they arose, and maybe this "Prince" would be somewhat more reasonable than the retards and lackeys they'd met right and up until now? All the more since, hey, if I just got that right, dude's a goblin exactly like Donovon and... her. A look at Amy, a name already forgotten, if she had even mentioned it so far. Better ask again before they went in there, then. Chances are I got exactly the point to convince him, and even if he's not the judge in this, he should have some control. Be cool, Faruq, you are in it to win it, here. This felt good - Having a goal and an angle, even if both were short-term ones. Emptying his glass with a final sip, and noticing that a good share of his minute had already passed, he conspired to maybe initiate conversation, now, as standing in waiting rooms and talking was better than standing in waiting rooms and silently waiting for something to happen, far as he knew.

"So, as I said, everybody. Thanks again, Donnie, by the way, good to have some answers down up front. But as I was sayin', the name's Faruq. This is Erica." This with a gesture at and another wink towards the girl in question. If she is my better, and Kirsch wants me to act the part, I might as well play the herald and introduce. All the more since... ah well, that backside, man. Anyhow, focus, now. "And from what I can gather, we's Ventrue, which is basically one of the clans. Going by what good Miss Donovon here just tol' us, there's about seven of those, and the bosses of them will play judge 'n' jury in there today. Or spectators, I'm not quite sure. Anyhow, if I might compile that, we know we gotta act smooth, and won't have to worry 'bout anything if we do. Donovon already said it's jus' a formality, so, everyone ease up, and we's gonna get this over with and no harm done. But I'd say, anyone else like me in this, we prolly all got more questions than one, and some more introductions are well in order. Like, we's all in one boat here, yes?" Take the nervosity. Speak. Focus. Get it on track. Project control. Rick, Amy, Erica, those are names I heard. Figure the guy is Rick, might as well sort this out then. "So. You there, big guy. I understand ya name is Rick, and ya clan would be called Tree-murr, then? Or that a surname or somethin'? More we know, the less trouble they'll hit us with if they's tryin'." And they will, from the way things look like, and you ain't gotta know there's mind-reading up in dat.

Saving Presence for Monsieur de Noir, then, actually. You said we need one more glass for a blood point, though, daelrog - What's our pools look like, then, the refills in? :smallbiggrin:

[daelrog]

Oh, I don't know. One more than the last update on your preludes. At this point, I trust each player to take into account their blood pools. Danielle can heal her wound, and have up to five additional blood points if she down both jugs.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire caught the attention of the servers and took the chance to return her untouched glass. It was more then a little disturbing how much seemed to be available. Even if she needed it to live on now she could think of no way to keep large stocks she could call humane. Even if freely given it could be put to better use then casual refreshment. Bad enough she'd killed a man to slake her thirst tonight she didn't need to contribute to routine harvesting.

"I'll bring up the rear of the line," Claire said rising to her feet and pushing any other chatter to the back of her mind.

She cared as little for the order of the line, but it seemed simplest to express a preference right off. Let the suits or one actually related to the Prince go first. Besides she wasn't going to make much an impression being the only one dressed casually and normally. Or so her mind and the smidgeon of manners she'd picked up growing up told her, having them all stripped down and come in naked would have elicited as much actual interest from Claire. Might be more comfortable actually, her outfit didn't seem to be fitting right. She was simply, aware, or it in a confining way. Probably the hard wear they'd seen tonight.

What occupied Claire at the moment was the poor girl about to stand trial. The juxtaposition was severe to say the least. Claire couldn't think of anything to really help though. This was the sort of social thing that had never appealed to her, she preferred things that worked on reliable principles. Human minds were the opposite, coming out on top of a situation like this was an art not a science. Still Claire didn't want to be another to leave the teen out in the cold.

"Hi I'm Claire," She said to Danielle as she approached, "I didn't catch your name but I just wanted to let you know you have my sympathy. I wasn't planning on dying this evening either and had little choice, but you seem to have gotten a rougher hand then the rest of us. I don't think I can do anything to help you but I hope you pull through."

It occurred to Claire that if the teen was some sort of criminal that showing sympathy might be looked down on. Here though she just didn't care, it was just a decent thing to do.

[Strawberries]

Amy nods politely at the offer of a refill, sipping the second glass more slowly and actually trying to decode the taste. She doesn't manage to go behind 'sweet' and 'pleasant'. Prepare yourself, she says. Bummer, I seem to have left my make-up kit in the other purse. Powdering my nose would certainly help my chances now. In a way, that's Amy's way to prepare herself. Taking the entire thing as a joke, even if only in her mind, helps her being calmer.

She turns another look to the others, taking in their faces and their expression, and, once again, she find herself looking at the woman on her right. If Amy is nervous and scared, she doesn't even want to think about what... Danielle, was it? is thinking right now. She honestly feels for the girl. And associating in any way with her in this moment won't certainly be a good first impression to make on my part, would it? But...screw that. Amy looks down for a moment at her hands Not too bad, the skin is gray, but I don't have...talons or anything like that, then reaches out on her right and squeezes briefly Danielle's arm, in a silent gesture of support.

In that exact moment, the other girl comes forward and introduces herself. Apparently, she's had more or less the same idea as Amy. Good. I guess there are more than some decent people even among vam... kindreds. That is a relief.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
The red liquid stained the sides of her glass as she swirled it. She didn't desire any more, and she doubted it was up to her standard anyway, but she liked having something to occupy her hand.

Erica blinked. She'd definitely heard her name.., then she realized Faruq was giving a bona fide speech, and he had just introduced her. Once again, she tried to keep her expression neutral, but could not suppress a small sigh as she brought her thumb and two fingertips to her temple and forehead at the mention of how the meeting was a mere formality and no harm done. Apparently the Scotsman had forgotten about the life or death trial to take place immediately after their introductions.

"Yes, I'm Erica Lee," she said, rising to her feet once Faruq finished. She was clearly Asian, with fair skin, probably a tad fairer now than earlier in the day, wearing a conservative suit and heels. She looks to be in her early twenties, but it was difficult to say with certainty.

"Very nice to meet all of you, Amy, Rick, Danielle, sorry I didn't catch your name," she spoke each person's name as she turned to them, Claire being the odd kindred out.
"Faruq," she smiled, "and Donovan, thank you for answering our questions."

She paused, apparently unsure of how to proceed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't bring any business cards, I'll be sure to get some made up," she deadpanned before taking a seat again.
"I'll go first," she added, crossing her legs.

[Dark Seeker]

The investigator listens as the Arab rambles. He was either incredibly nervous, or pretending to be a fool. Maybe a combination of both. Rick makes a note to continue to observe him.

"Charmed to meet you Faruq. Erica." He says gruffly to them both, before giving a brief nod to the other new vampires. Yeah, my name's Rick. Private investigator, which may be why I was recruited." He chuckles dryly, tugging at his suit uncomfortably. He may look formal, but he felt unused to such extravagance.

"From what I understand, Tremere is my clan. Can't tell you much more than that. My turning was rather... sudden."

A thought strikes him. "Did either of you have a weird vision when you were turned? A sort of... out of body experience?" The persistent vision nags at him.

Seeing Erica declare she would go first, Rick makes a note of that as well. A social climber? Eager to impress, perhaps?.

"I'll go second, if no one has any objections." He expects none, but he has no desire to antagonize any of his new "family."

[Strawberries]

Amy stares for a couple of moments...and then starts to laugh. It's a genuine, amused laugh, even if it sounds a lot more like a cackle. She supposes it's just the way her jaw is made now. And she needed the laugh, even if it's at her own expenses. She didn't find a better stress relief when she was alive, and she doubts she's going to find one now.

"Out of body? No" she says after a second, when she can talk again "My experience was pretty much all in the body, as you can see" she says, gesturing at her ruined face. For a moment, she has a sudden memory of a mirror, and hideous lime curtains, and feels a flash of panic, but it's soon overcome, and just a second after, she can't remember if she's really felt it. "And go right ahead, I'll come after you."

[Worlok]

Somehow, his attempt to calm everyone down didn't quite seem to work as intended. You better do as I'm sayin', folks. This is all foregone conclusions here. There's just no way they don't already know what they gotta know, and none of us got a chance 'less we at least -look- like we know what we's doin'. They had to realise that much. They could not be that thick. So get chill, and stay chill, and nothing can happen. They's gonna try and kill that girl, and unless we's at our best against that bull****, she is actually gonna die, and we'll be guilty. Trust me, guys, when I say things like that, it's just because I got a plan, okay? At least the ugly one - didn't he recognise that voice from somewhere? - was now laughing, so at least he had had some positive effect with this. Two positive effects. Erica had, after all, just smiled at him. "M'pleasure, Miss Erica. Anything else I can help with, you ask, alright?"

And for the maybe less positive ones, he had just been adressed by Rick. Sort of. "Outta body though? Only kinda. Was dreamin'. Weird stuff. Chalked it up to bloodloss, really." He shrugged. Not like anyone needed to know about him having long and much-needed talks with people his subconscious pretended to be before dying and then waking up while chained in a basement. "Also, private investigator? Like Humphrey-Bogart-type stuff 'n' crap?" He briefly imagined this guy with a hat and coat on, narrating to himself while stalking dark alleys in search of blood and criminals. "That's kinda badass. I was in... sales, up to now." P.I.s mean "cops", and "cops" mean "bad for business". Except Steve. But what are the odds that this guy got any hang on that? No need to get our stress on in here, at any rate. "Mainly just cheap merchandise, like 'em little keyrings and watches and stuff, y'know? Anyway, if noone minds, I'mma take the rear when we're going in." Can't walk behind Erica, maybe check out what the others got. And get a grip on the situation. Stay in control, Faruq, stay in control.

[dancrilis]

Ok Danielle thought, not even going to hear me out on helping them, well that was to be blunt expected a call home to avoid a possible manhunt - and thereby buy some time for the vampires to concoct some believable lie as to why she had gone missing after they killed her so that no one would investigate and her mother would be safe, was probably to much to hope.

She flinched again when the hideous woman smiled back, she hated herself for it, she had seen two deaths tonight not including her own, and in fairness she had not flinched then, get a grip, actually that was it, it was the atmosphere of waiting and expecting the worst, it used to happen at fights to what if I lose, what if I stumble, what if I get hurt, eventually it became what if I hurt them, and the lesson was have a glass of water and calm down, do your best and don't worry about something if it hadn't happened then plan against it, if it had then learn from it, the thought was something of a revelation to her, but it always was when she worried at fights.

Taking her refilled jug she finished drinking and tested her leg finding it healed, do what you have to it is to late to worry now, they are the monsters not me, darkly she added not yet but it was mostly for internal humour, poking fun at herself.

The trail will be short Donovan had said, likely meaning that the outcome was certain and as privilege had been used to describe prosecuting her likely not in her favour. "If this is one of those trials where the lawyer gets executed at the end if their client loses I would prefer to have Al avoid that", she stated flatly, Al for whatever reason had helped her and she didn't want to see her die.

At the odd man's comment on 'it's jus' a formality' she actually barked a laugh, "Yea that what I'm thinking too ... but thanks for pointing it out", she stuck her head ruefully, well at least there is a sense of finality to it, and I won't have to hurt anyone considering unless there is a trial by combat in which case I think I will hurt someone.

She looked at the woman as she approached, half expecting some sarcastic comment like she might have heard in school for the airheads and was almost taken-aback by the kind words, "I ... appreciate that, but I wouldn't worry really", sighing "in a few weeks and months when you can't meet your friends during the day and at night smell them as food, when you can't go home for Christmas or for birthday parties, well you might not think the trade-off is worth it you might even envy me never even having a chance to deal with it", smiling "not that I won't try to survive, but that is for other reasons", considering namely to protect mom, find Katrina if possible and provide some solace to the families of the poor girls Billy killed, and any others I can.

Seeing the monster's - no Amy's - hand on her arm she almost flinched again, but didn't she was more relaxed now that she had accepted things, she looked at the woman more carefully, and hoped she had not heard her words as they might be even more true for her, "Thank you", on impulse she hugged the other woman briefly, "for the attempt at least", she might need a hug too after the night and she would have to live in this world now.

Hearing the big man speak, "no visions, but I was drugged at the time so I don't remember anything ... can't say that that is something I regret to be honest", shrugging "so likely a useless answer for your interest".

Looking back to Claire, "I think I should go last, wouldn't want them making mistakes and killing you instead", she smiled but she was serious, the woman was seemingly decent and she didn't trust these wackos not to make a mistake like that and blame it on her.

[Worlok]

That's it, then. She got it. She's the important one in her trial, after all. This brightened his mood significantly. After all, his message had travelled well enough. For now. So, sexy-badass-voice on, macho smile gracing his features, newfangled fangs well-retracted and everything, he quickly made to respond as follows: "Nah, it's alright. And don't you worry; I walk in last, there's no way they's gonna mistake me for you, and I can keep an eye out in case they try... somethin' sneaky." Which they just might, way I see it. Too bad I'm better at it than them.

[dancrilis]

She looked at the man, "Sorry but no, it has been made very clear to me that these people" such as they are, "are big into their rules, if you break them you might not only put yourself in danger of offending someone, but put the group in that same danger of making an initial bad impression", shrugging "and it wouldn't help me one bit to go flaunting their system as an entrance", throwing an eye to Donovan "not sure of that counts as correcting a kindred, but well it will be over fast either way right", her voice an odd mixture of bitterness and humour at this last.

[Worlok]

Dang, man, talk about determined. "Well... uh... yeah, I guess there's that. Still, I did make the offer, and if you's insistin', me insistin' would just drag this on. You get back on it in case you reconsider, yes?" That last with a hint of a bow, and the very basics of the Faruq-the-Ferret-al-goddamn-Assad-wink-smile-and-ohwellyouknowthedrill. Not much to this system I would care to honor, dis Kindred she can interrupt, and then she -is- one of the sexy ones. Would be a shame about it, really.

[Strawberries]

Amy is not sure what reaction she expected, but a hug was not it. For an instant, she stiffens, not knowing how to react, then she returns the hug. Think what you want, Donovon, I don't frigging care. "Hey, no. Don't say that, don't assume you don't have a chance." She almost wants to add we'll try to do what we can, but to be honest, what they can might be precious little at the moment, and Danielle seems smart enough to realise it. Still, I'll be in that room. I'll keep quiet and observe. Even Mike said I'm good at it, after all. And If I see an opportunity to make even a little difference, I'll take it.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick smirked at Faruq description of his work, since it was exactly what he had envisioned when he first started. "It's not quite that glamorous. Truth be told, for the longest time I've been following unfaithful spouses. The one night I happen to uncover a great conspiracy, I die because of it."

"Sales, huh." He regards the man with suspicion, but quickly relaxes, reminding himself he's not a cop anymore. " Yeah, yeah, I know."

Looking at Amy, the detective has to hold back a flinch. He regards her with sympathy. "Sorry to see that. Good that you have a positive attitude about it though. Looks aren't anything apparently. If nothing else, this society's leader is of your clan, so it's not holding him back." This is the extent of Rick's ability to comfort, and he awkwardly shuffles back and forth.

He considers the answers of the others, finding them disappointing. Maybe it had just been a dream. But hell, for all he knew, dreams now meant something. His out of body experience would warrant further investigation once he got back to the chantry.

[Worlok]

Come to think of it, that's kind of hardcore. These lots didn't make the impression of holding a merits-over-looks-persuasion here; if the guy -is- a goblin, and runs the show, then that means he might just be smart enough to be reasonable. As opposed to some folks I could name. This thought reassured him some, seeing how maybe he'd finally get a chance to plead his case in front of a jury these vampire kindred would respect. Their all's cases, come to think of it. Other than Ricky Bogarto over there, he was the only rooster in the yard here, after all. But speaking of... "Yeah. Sales. Like, miniature Santas and such things. It was a living, in the end. Right up to it. I kinda miss it now." And more than anything, he missed his lonely and abandoned bong, awaiting the return of its now useless master. Damn. Did you have to mention 'em unfaithful spouses, there? When I now actually have to drink folks... That would mean I can't use Faith no more. But maybe, I could get the ones I'll drink to maybe use her? Just you wait, he pledged to that too-long-already-absent smoking aid, we'll have hella threesomes now, girl, I can promise you! The first thought acted kind of soberingly, even beyond the second's cheering-up, and he swiftly changed topic to avoid whatever this undead form would produce in place of a single tear and a grimmace of spiteful determination: "But, basically, dem conspiracies. It's funny how that works, now, isn't it?" A lame comment, no doubt about it, but the best he could come up with without blurting out the thought processes he had actually take over now.

[daelrog]

Donovon said nothing as the newly embraced kindred bantered, even when Danielle spoke to her. To the less obervant, she simply blended into the background. To those who noticed, she simply listened curiously, feeling no need to speak until the minute had passed. "Let us begin."

The kindred lined up Erica, Rick, Amy, Claire, Faruq, then Danielle. One of the servants led them in, and Donovon shuffled behind Danielle.

They walked for two minutes, the servant moving through a series of doors the began to disorient them. Erica and Rick could here the servant muttering the directions to himself, a number ofl efts, rights, then straights. It was after two minutes, and at the last door, he stepped to the side and gesutred in. As they entered in a line they saw what kindred banquet truly was.

To their left were the kindred of the city, or at least a good number of them. At the center was a handsome man with cat-like eyes, and two equally beautiful women laughing, drunk. One had pale white skin, paler than the others, and bright orange hair. The other had deep eyeshadow, and short, dark hair in a man's cut that worked for her.

In the corner was the freak show, the three Nosferatu Amy had met. Slick was wearing his "person" mask, though his buggy eyes and squat face made him only slightly more attractive than the other two. Falt Face had his chair leaned back against the wall seemingly not concerned about a thing, while Mike was looking flustered, looking the monster he was. Apparently he was the source of the laughter by the other clique of kindred.

Al Rowe and Iris were sitting near the front, a cold expression on Al's face. Danielle got a good look at her for the first time. Dirty blonde hair tied back into a neat, no-nonsense bun, caucasian, hazel eyes, and beautiful, the kind of beauty that radiated a calm strength.

Quenton and Trent were debating. Rick would notice that Chase was not with them. They stopped when Quenton pointed Rick out, and Trent sized the investigator up from afar. Melanie was sitting with them, but she was not taking part in their conversation.

Chase, Byron, and two others were standing in the back. One of the other two was wearing a business suit and aviavtors, with a five o-clock shadow, and a sweatyness that made him seem like a man having a mid-life crisis. The other one was a little girl, tusslign the hair of a doll.

Also in the back were five dead humans hanging upside down, stripped, three male, two female.

To their right sat the head table, where seven kindred stared back at them. To the far end was a woman. She had short blonde hair and ice blue eyes. She wore smart casual. Next to her was Rogan, with a plain white t-shirt. He looked appraisingly at them. To his side sat a young boy, maybe elven or twelve years old dressed in a suit. However, it was clear it was no child, as the bags under his eyes were dominant on his face.

Then in the middle was Jean du Noir. his skine had a beige tint to it. He had batlike ears, and large, deep set eyes. His head had no hair, including eyebrows. He was almost comical in appearance.

To his left sat Josef Kirsch, and Josef's left stood something vile looking. He was fat, He had tattoos all across his face and arms, acts of beastiality uf one looked close enough. his mouth flashed gold and his teeth appeared to be a series of long, sharp metal fangs surgically planted. He chuckled and the dead fat on his face jiggled. Finally, the kindred closest to them all was gaunt, and had balck hair that was greasy and stuck to his forehead. He was staring at Danielle, unblinking.

As the first five took center stage, Donovon put a hand on Danielle's shoulder, indicating for her to stay in place.

"Welcome to my home." Jean's face may have quite silly, but his voice was strong. "May each sire please rise, and stand beside their childer, and introduce them?"

The five sires stood up, and moved silently towards the one they each had embraced.

[Thundercracker]

Erica

Erica's stride slowed instinctively when the servant stepped aside. She steeled herself before walking through the door, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

"I've walked into a nightmare," she thought as her eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces. She remembered to keep walking.
"There's Melanie, Josef must be around..damn, don't look at the bodies!

Instinctively she inhaled, though it was now entirely unnecessary, at the sight of the corpses. Finally, she caught sight of Josef Kirsch. She forced herself to keep walking until she was at the far end of the table, so everyone behind her would be able to file into place. As she turned to face the prince, she chanced a glance at the others, behind her...

[Dark Seeker]

Rick quietly observes the crowd of predators. Out of all of them, the only one he trusts is Quenton, and even that trust only went so far.

His eyes catch onto the dead bodies for a moment, causing him to briefly stop walking. They were being hung on display, and for what purpose? It was wrong, and the fact that none of the Kindred here seemed to mind made Rick wonder as to the true nature of this society. He makes another note to inquire as to what the crimes of the victims were.

He follows Erica, waiting for his Sire to come to him. He casts a few looks back at the corpses, but says nothing. at least, not yet.

[Strawberries]

OOC: Daelrog, I fully intend for Amy to make good use off the dots in Perception she has. I don't know if it's necessary to roll (tell me if that is the case), but just in case, please point out to me if there's something in particular she should notice. Amy has high perception, I sometimes don't :smalltongue:
Amy enters behind Rick, taking in the room and the people within. Forget the Nosferatu and Slick's place, this is the real freak show. Almost immediately, she spots Mike in the corner. Good. Why the presence of the man that, let's face it, killed her should make her feel reassured it's something of a mystery, but there's no denying that it does. She sees Erica turning back for a moment to look at them, and tries to address her a reassuring smile. It's like high school all over again, first in a line is never a good place to be.

In that moment, her gaze falls on the bodies, and she stops smiling. So much for trying not to wonder where the blood she drank come from. We try not to kill my ass, Mike. She allows herself one single, hard stare at her sire, who has moved beside her, then stops looking at the corpses. Now it's not the time. Not if she wants to keep moving and speaking after tonight.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire hadn't joined in the conversation in the room beyond greeting Danielle. Just learning names and faces was enough for right now. Besides she had no real interest in dancing through idle small talk which was all it might be. Maybe another time, but she would rather just get this whole thing over with. So Claire remained silent, but impatient until they were lead off.

Either this estate was designed by M. C. Escher or their hosts were playing another game. Or so Claire concluded during the walk. It made no sense for a route this circuitous to be the best way to their location. Probably didn't want any of them knowing the best way out of the building, or simply wasting time again. Or maybe there was something else going on she wasn't guessing. She hadn't decided by the time they reached their apparent destination.

As they entered Claire scanned the room. Her eyes though latched onto the naked bodies on the back. Obviously dead. Claire wondered how her compatriots felt about drinking that blood now. It brought an almost macabre satisfaction, she could not have save those people but at least she hadn't enjoyed the fruits of their deaths. Even if the blood hadn't come from those particular poor saps Claire had no doubt similar circumstances applied. Scanning the rest of the room Claire noted the sheer variety. It seemed vampires were a diverse group if nothing else.

Though she should have known that, Rogan was certainly not the suave Eastern European aristocrat of movie myth. Though thinking of her sire brought up those vaguely warm feelings again, he wasn't suave but he did have a certain dignity to him. Claire was not really surprised to see him at the table Donovan had labelled for 'Primogen' if she'd heard him right. That title was not familiar but the purpose was seemed clear. These were the important ones, the leadership of the city. Another at the table brought up a small note from earlier in the evening, the man with all the tattoos Would that be Sean Loveless then? Or whatever his real name might happen to be, the description matched at least.

Still a matter for another moment. As their sires rose Claire nodded lightly at Rogan but kept her silence. This would be shorter if no one started running their mouth.

[dancrilis]

Danielle followed the others calmly, mentally preparing herself and saying silent goodbyes to the people she cared for, and revisiting childhood memories that she held close, she could do this she was prepared ...

Or so she thought, walking into the room she did her best to ignore everyone else nodding politely to Al - she truly didn't want the woman to get in any trouble on her behalf - and then stopping cold in her tracks to look at the young child.

She was disgusted, she knew that cults liked to start young indoctrinate early and all that, but cursing a child like this was a different kind of twisted, the bodies shocked her less after all the society likely regarded humans as food and therefore placing them on display was like a human party with a stuffed pig - and she had seen death tonight, but it still seemed morbid particularly next to the child.

Her instinct was to go to the girl grab her and take her out of here to the police, but she knew that she would not be able to. Her hand balled into tight fist and her muscles clenched at the frustration of it, then keeping her anger in check she forced herself to keep walking after the others.

Looking at the top table another child sat on it to her additional anger, and another was fixated on her she glared back holding his gaze until Donovan touched her, she wanted to hurt someone and came close to hitting them as they did, a simple elbow to the jaw would be easy but she refrained she would - hopefully - have a chance to speak to the leaders and then she could let loose verbally of not physically, she nodded to her escort and walked to the wall taking a chair if one was available, standing not leaning her feet spaced for ease and her arms at her sides ... her hand was still balled from before.

She began thinking about exactly what she wanted to say if she got the opportunity.

[daelrog]

Josef Kirsch spoke first. "This is Erica Lee. She is my childer, my responsibility. Her sins are mine, and mine are hers."

Quenton repeated the same, albeit casually, as if he was having a normal conversation.

Mike repeated it as well, though his was quieter, and those in the back could not here him, prompting red headed woman in the audience to ask him to raise his voice, much to the delight of her two companions. He did not.

Rogan was much louder, an air of menace in his voice, as if challenging the kindred present.

Then there was Melanie. To anyone watching Melanie seemed composed and confident, though Faruq could feel the heat rise from her. The boy at the main table seemed to hold back a smile as Melanie spoke. Sean Loveless did not, letting his foul grin show his delight.

The awkward one continued to stare at Danielle, though he hand was moving rapidly as he took notes.

"So you have said, so will it be." Jean waved with his arm and the sires moved to return to their seats, leaving their childer once again. Jean's demeanor turned from formal to more casual in an instant. He seemed relaxed. "Five new kindred in a single night, perhaps six. I daresay there nights will become interesting, no? I will read to you all the six traditions of Caine, and after each I will explain it in a way that kine can understand, to ensure each and every one of you knows the laws. Shall we begin?"

Giving a little more time for Worlok to respond, and for characters to consider this new development in their relationship with their sire.

[Strawberries]

Amy stands as straight as possible, looking the prince in the eyes. Funny how one gets used to the strangest things: Amy’s first thought about him had been He’s not too bad to look at. Slick was worse. Mike was worse. Hell, Amy herself was worse, come to think about it. And the freak on her far right… Amy is not sure if he is another Nosferatu, but that one gives her the shivers. And not necessarily because of his face. Still, she forces herself to move her gaze slowly and evenly on all kindreds at the table, taking in all the details she can. First impressions count, said Donovan, so make them count.

When the ceremony begins, she is surprised at the words their…sires have got to say. That’s a hell of a vow to make. It basically means… what? That if she screws up, she’s going to screw up Mike as well, in the process? Guess I’d better try to not screw up, then. When it’s her sire turn to say the words, Amy turns briefly to him. She suspects a ‘thank you’ may be a grave breach of protocol, so she keeps silent, but she nods all the same in acknowledgment and thanks, hoping that the message is understood. And what would I give to know who those idiots in the back are and what their problem is. She has to remember to ask. If she’s still alive after tonight.

She focuses on the Prince’s words. There’s important information to be gathered right here. Perhaps six, he says. That means the trial’s conclusion isn’t so forgone as Danielle thought. That’s good news. And there it is that word, again. The one that Flat Face used. Kine. I guess it may only mean “human” . Just as Kindred is the word used for vampire. Kindred and Kine. It seems the title of a variety show… and now is not the moment to chuckle. With a certain effort, Amy keeps her face straight and her eyes on the Prince. Sometimes the ways her mind decides to relieve tension can be very inconvenient.

[Worlok]

As they had walked, Faruq had made sure to very pointedly not look back over his shoulder every two steps to check for whatever sneaky move he could have expected, and yet the temptation had drawn his eyes every which way, every so often.

Be cool, be calm, move forward, all eyes are on you and watching, now.

As the final door had opened, he had found himself unable to look back, a certain gravity, a certain inevitability washing over him, much like way back, when he had been not quite nine years old yet, and the doorbell had heralded Uncle Ahmad's first visit he would have to attend.

Be chill, be polite, speak when spoken to, this is important, now.

As they were led into the room - throne room? orgy room? storage room? - he'd been unwilling to look back, too absorbed in the alien scene presenting itself to the six of them as he was: All these people vampires, and that bat-eared little guy there in the middle the much-vaunted "Prince".

Don't fear, don't back down, stay in control, heart of darkness, now.

As they had been adressed, the very thought of looking back, of leaving, running, had already fled, looked back and turned around and run out of the door, the corridor, the main entrance, far down the road, beyond the manse, the town, the state, the ocean, and taken refuge somewhere in Edinburgh.

No longer there, now here, do not be nervous, be the Lion, now.

And as the entire expanse of this strangest of stages lay bared before his very eyes, he found that it was actually not so bad: Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had maintained this notion of a court in session, a dark room, with night-black carpets, pale men and goblins in suits surrounding them on man-high thrones of bone and iron, and every wrong answer meaning for one of them to be dragged away by the moving shadows, drained of blood and killed to be replaced by yet another victim. But this seemed harmless, somehow, almost casual, like a gathering of fetishistic business partners held to introduce a junior functionary to the inner workings of the company.

Now, granted, the mounted corpses were rather strange. But then, the blood had to come from somewhere, and he had certainly not helped justify any murder there - Even if the blood he had partaken of had come from these, it meant that they had given of it freely, and if that had meant their deaths, they had been suicidally inclined to begin with. Certainly. He had therefore never done anything bad to them, and whatever shock effect they may have hoped to achieve thusly was lost by the simple fact that these people had taken martyrdom upon themselves to help him serve his assignment, and possibly to save whoever else might have had died to this here gathering of parasites. Instead of feeling nauseous, or ill-at-ease like some might have, he therefore found it in himself to actually smile at them - Still kind of tasteless style in decor, if ya ask me, but hey, I'm not the undead monstrosity here. - and focus on important matters - Or at least, not the one in charge. Once I'm the boss, I'll make it better, this I swear. - the likes of "who it actually was they were now surrounded by": Right. More goblins, some weirdos, Miss Forrest, whatever this "sire" business means is likely also represented, that fat failure with the gold all over, then that little girl over there - they start early these days, now, don't they? - and the Prince. So, no reason to be worried. Just get this over with, wait for the moment you can speak, Faruq, and make it friggin' count.

Everyone else of the six he still stood amongst had seemed worried at first, and nervous - with him, himself, no doubt, being little different. But with all the resolve his quietly taking stock of the situation could land him with, and holding himself to the tenets he had set up - Cool, calm, polite, respectful, rooster in the yard, a plan - it was easy for the Ferret to just weather the proceedings as they came: This Prince, at least, Jean du Noir, seemed to in fact be a most reasonable sort, or at least not given to randomly flying off the handle, torturing the new guy, and then claiming that he'd tried to make this "fun". And he, Faruq al-Assad the "New Kindred", could respect a guy that looked like that and still managed to seem more stylish than the sodomy-clad joke in bling he had seen earlier.

But what's a 'kine'? That like, they call themselves the 'kindred', and the living folks the 'kine'? Kine as in 'cattle'? These guys got sticks up their ass or what? And why is that jackhat's face so flat? When will we get to the question-and-answer-part? There's bound to be one, eventually, right? Regardless, if he really just said five or six, we have a chance of getting that chick out alive. The possibilities, man, all the possibilities. Maybe I won't even need the more hardcore plans.

When Melanie made her outlandish vow, her childe had briefly entertained thoughts of launching his "The Ferret, greatest master thief in all of Europe" dream, in order for her to get arrested by some sort of vampire police on guilt of openly-embraced association - Funny how he already found himself wondering about, no, analysing the inner workings of these here freaks and their society, he reckoned. Also, when they're that hard up for new blood in the ranks they have to rape and kill for it, that means that nobody is born like this. So, Forrest got "embraced" herself at one point. Then she also has one a' dem "sires", and can't cause me trouble, because that would also cause him trouble, because her sins are mine, and mine are hers, but mine are also mine, and hers are yet another's. Even if it was that Weinberg fella. They did seem rather bent on avenging him. So they'd likely not cause him dishonor after his death. He noticed a strange warmth, and found himself replying to the smile and grin from over at the table with a particularly smarmy and unfased one of his own. But he had pushed these deliberations aside for now, the notion of Forrest catching the flak for all his... 'honest mistakes' - he had, after all, not received much input - just so reassuring, and himself being well-bent on impressing this Prince, who would certainly make a powerful ally, even beyond the mind-reading of... his "sire", then? "Siress"? "Sirealla"? and the overimposing presence of Kirsch. Instead, Faruq deigned to construct within his head a little play that would confound whoever read his mind right now, keep his back straight and his eyes straightforward, bask in the heat he could almost feel rising up from Melanie, and otherwise speak as it came to him.

Damn straight, yer Majesty. We shall and we can. Hit us up. was his last actively-projected notion, and he couldn't exactly tell whether he had but thought it or spoke it aloud. No matter, though, whatever this boiled down to, he had superpowers now, and Melanie would take the blame for all his messes. Life was getting better once again.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Too many new words, too many new faces and developments... how was anyone supposed to keep track of it all? Add to it five dead bodies just hanging there... Things were moving very quickly, and Erica hoped she would find some time over the next few days, no, nights, to put together a study session with Josef or Melanie...

Melanie... she definitely had a challenge on her hands. Her adopting Faruq seemed to apparently make her the butt of some vampire joke. Erica made a mental note not to broach the subject with the temptress.

"Learn to pull your own weight first," Erica thought, "then worry about your colleagues."

[dancrilis]

She considered the words as the sires spoke them, initially thinking it simply more pageantry but after the third quite one began - only to be intrupted by some vampiric equivalent of Mallison, she began to consider them more carefully, the gut of it was 'My childer, my responsibility. We share sins', and that meant that the sire's own sire also shared the sins, and the childer of that sire thereby shared them creating a family of blame to seek the balance with ... and that was the problem with her, 'I am me. I am my own responsibility. My sins are mine alone ... and if I break something tough you can clean it up for me with no hope of payment or retribution', she was a walking embodiment of a breach in the insurance system that they had against one another.

Although it also meant that a sire could break the rule and the child could suffer for it, likely an easy way for the powerful to escape blame and consequence.

Five or six, not bloody likely, she thought clearly.

She took another look at the bodies now, were they decoration or practical she wondered, then she returned to face the scene in front of her glaring at the man watching her, likely the prosecutor wanting to put on good show.

She wondered how long it would take someone to acknowledge the princes question about continuing, well he had indicated that she might survive - even if she didn't believe it for a minute - and he had indicated that the rules were for each and everyone of them to hear, as such standing at the back and to the side she stated flatly "If you would be so kind", she spoke in almost monotone, but the almost was broken by just a hint of the anger she felt at bodies and the children being present and the bitterness she felt at the entire situation.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire continued her silence, but allowed herself a small smile as Rogan spoke. She was coming to like that air of casual menace he exuded so easily, it fit this room full of predators better then pride and vanity. The unvarnished truth of the nature, that a vampire was first and foremost an animal. Certainly that same Beast had crushed her easily enough.

As the vows finished Claire refocused on the Prince. She hadn't given him much thought yet, but comparing the others present it seemed odd that he was at least nominally in charge. While certainly ugly there was a comical air to the man. Could one rule over a bunch of animals without managing at least something of menace? If any of those other apparent elders were leading it would make perfect sense to her. Though she wouldn't say she knew Rogan from what she had seen, she could see him simply passing on leadership. The rest though she couldn't know, but visually at least they were more imposing. That bat eared Prince though... there must be some secret there.

Claire had to stop herself again though. It didn't matter if Jean du Orlock was more imposing then apparent or just up there for show. At least not to her, she as yet had no reason to care. The things she had to do were not political, she had a service to perform for Rogan and that was all.

[Dark Seeker]

Raising an eyebrow at the vow, Rick struggles to maintain a neutral expression as his mind races with thoughts.

So sin with Kindred is passed down from "parent" to "child." Another concept I can't say I completely approve of. At least it explains why Danielle's turning was so frowned upon. If her Sire had a bad reputation, or was an outlaw, maybe she is now too. Poor girl..

Regardless, Rick does his best to not show his unhappiness. He owed Quenton, and he wasn't about to ruin his sire's reputation. Not here, at any rate.

As Prince du Noir questions them, Rick nods. "I'm ready."

[daelrog]

Danielle's word earned her a few nasty glares from several of the kidnred, including Rogan and the woman next to him. The Prince did not mind her words, and spoke once again. He stood up, and began to walk around the table as he spoke the traditions.

“The first tradition, the masquerade: Thou shalt not reveal thy nature to those not of the Blood. Doing so shall renounce thy claims of Blood. Essentially, keep what you are a secret. Don’t starting calling your friends and families and telling them you’re an undead predator that stalks the night. There’s a reason none of you knew of our existence until tonight, and we intend to keep things that way. Our dinner tonight is an example of what we’re willing to do to keep that secret.

“The second tradition, the domain: Thy domain is thy concern. All others owe thee respect while in it. None may challenge they word in thy domain. We kindred are territorial. The city is split into hunting grounds, where each individual or group of kindred may feed freely. Do not encroach on another’s territory without permission. Think of the city as a nice restaurant where each of us has our own table. This is not some cheap buffet where everyone walks over each other and simply grabs what they want.

“The third tradition, the progeny: Thou shalt sire another only with permission of thine elder. If thou creates another without thine elder’s leave, both thou and thy progeny shall be slain. I will say now not one of you has permission to embrace another, and won’t for some time. And now you all understand why the young lady to the side is on trial. You see, if we let kindred simply embrace whoever they wished, whenever they wished, we’d have armies of blood bonded thin bloods waging wars for their masters. Oh, did I say blood bonded, I am getting ahead of myself.

“The fourth tradition, the accounting: Those thouse create are thine own childer. Until thy progeny shall be released, thou shalt command them in all things. Their sins are thine to endure. This tradition explains why I had each of your sires stand behind you and take this responsibility. Once again, if we did not have some accountability, who knows what would happen. Hell, Rogan’s childer could kill Sean, Josef’s childer could take her condition to CNN, and Mike’s childer could start ‘tagging’ all of our homes with tacky gang markings. Naturally all three would be punished accordingly, but some fault does rest with the fool who would embrace a fool.

“The fifth tradition, hospitality: Honor one another’s domain. When thou comest to a foreign city, thou shalt present thyself to the one who ruleth there. Without the word of acceptance, thou art nothing. You are, in a sense, new to this city. As such you are presenting yourselves before me, just as you will present yourself to the Prince of any city you travel too assuming they have one. Be sure to inform that to any outsiders you see who haven’t talked to me first.

“The sixth tradition, destruction: Thou art forbidden to destroy another of thy kind. The right of destruction only belongeth only to thine elder. Only the eldest among thee shall call a blood hunt. This is my favorite one. Look around this room and you will see people who simply do not belong together. Take into account that we fight for political power, we fight for hunting grounds, we fight over slights both perceived and real, you’d think we would have all turned each other to ash by now. However, that is barbaric, and we do hold a mutual self interest in survival, so let me make this clear. Do not kill another kindred in my city unless I have given permission. I will promise you all that same protection. It is why the girl standing to your right still stands for even though she is a breach in the third tradition, only I have the authority to warrant her destruction.”

By now he was standing in front of the table. He leaned back against it. “Now then, that’s not so hard, is it? Humankind creates thousands of laws each year, we have but six. Mind you, there are certain factions of kindred who hold their own laws, but everyone in my city follows these six traditions. Now, each of you kneel before me one by one. State your name, and promise to uphold the traditions, and join the kindred sitting at the tables.” He gestured behind them. “Then you will be one of us. Some Princes hold elaborate ceremonies that can last a week, but I prefer to keep them casual, such are the times.”

He smiled, waiting for each to swear to the traditions.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire stepped forward, eager to be done with this ceremony as soon as she could. Those laws were really quite minimal, one she'd already figured out earlier this night. Most came down to simple civility it seemed. Of course, their sheer brevity suggested that meant there was little a vampire was not allowed to do. That was a troublesome concept. Still there was no way around this, best to get on with things.

"Thank you my Prince for your welcome and education, I glad you prefer a certain casual simplicity." Claire said as she knelt before Jean "I, Claire Russo, do swear to abide by and obey the Six Traditions of our kind."

Assuming that would suffice Claire waited for any response and then moved toward the indicated tables to let not hold up the next to follow her. Of course then the real climax of the evening would begin. The trial would show more about how things were really going to work. Claire simply hoped the girl survived. Watching the proceedings after her Claire found a seat as close to Rogan as she could manage, nodding politely to all she came close to.

[Dark Seeker]

The laws were surprisingly minimal. The cop in Rick wondered if they were too minimal, though the enforcement of them seemed anything but lax. In any event, none of them really proved objectionable to him. He had no desire to go out and declare he was a vampire, no urge to create another kindred, and he respected others dwellings unless they gave him reason not to. As far as killing went... well, he was a firm believer in a trial first. No reason that needed to be different as a kindred then it had been as a kine.

Following Claire's lead, Rick kneels before the prince, forcing himself to look the manbeast in the eyes. "I Rick Valentino, swear to always obey the Six Traditions of this city."

Getting up when given permission, Rick makes his way to Quenton's table. As he's walking there, he gives Chase a nod and a small smile, thanking her for her assistance.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
The young woman mulled the traditions over in her mind. They were elegant in their simplicity, but she could already see a few issues with them. Regardless, it wasn't like she had much of a choice tonight.

She stepped forward to the designated spot before the Prince and dropped to one knee.
"My name is Erica Lee. I also promise to uphold the six traditions," she said.

"Keep it simple", she thought.

Assuming she is free to do so, she stood up and walked to the back of the room, keeping her gaze at eye level to avoid looking at the corpses strung up there. Once she passed the two sitting in front (Al Rowe and Iris), she nodded to them and sat, wanting a good vantage point to observe the trial, and not wanting to be too close to the dead bodies.

[daelrog]

As each kindred kissed the Prince's hand, they noticed it has a slight fishy smell.

Rogan nodded back to his childer, and Chase returned Rick's smile. Al and Iris noticed Erica's nod but offered nothing in return, at least at the moment.

Amy could see several things happening at once. The fat, tattooed man was eyeing Al Rowe with a mischievous look. The one woman at the head table seemed to do anything but look towards Al's way. Rogan was in deep thought. She could tell the tnesion between Josef Kirsch and the young boy primogen.

Other people with notably high perception can notice what Amy saw as well.

[dancrilis]

Not sure of Danielle is perceptive enough, but I would say so, but she is more focused on the situation then the personalities at this time, perhaps a mistake on her part.


Maybe that was foolish, but screw them, she met the glares with her barely passive gaze, some only briefly but for even the instant it would be clear that she was not impressed by them either.

She spent a bit of time considering each rule in general and how it applied to her.

So step one was 'don't tell anyone' so yes the secret cult is a secret, and to secure that secret they are willing to flagrantly break that secret. The absurdity of it forced her to smile even as her other hand balled in frustration.

Step two was 'don't eat anywhere' you have no home or clan, so no hunting grounds.

Step three 'don't make more vampires', grand a good honest rule and easy to understand, she had no intention of abducting someone and ruining their life, except of course I have no idea how to make a vampire and so how to avoid it.

Step four 'don't embrace morans', another sensible rule, you will be punished for your your children crimes, normal people might benefit from a similar rule in face, of course she had no one that would vouch for her, so had no protection for any under this.

Step five 'report to the government when you move house, and report suspicious strangers' maybe a bit of a pain but not to bad for a small society, ok, this was ok.

Step six, 'don't murder ... each other' she couldn't think of them as people, tricky she considered what of some stranger is on your hunting grounds, feeding in an obvious manner and has killed one of your people. She was not against the rule but it seemed like it would cause issues on rare occasions.

She watched as the others moved up and swore their oaths, she suspected that the fealty and seating was not intended for her. She did give the prince a sharp nod of understanding to show that she felt she had a handle on he rules but made no move from the wall - if there was anything being a translator thought her in court it was not to agree to anything without whatever clarification was needed, unballing her fists she folded her arms across her chest.

[Strawberries]

Amy repeats the traditions in her mind. They are nothing she is opposed to on principle, thank God. And...another piece of the puzzle finds its place. 'She would have broken the whole masq-', Slick had said. Masquerade, the word he was going to use is masqerade, and the first tradition is why Flat Face killed that girl. Not that it wasn't perfectly clear from before why the reporter had died, but now Amy realises they had been pratically compelled by law too kill her. I have to be really careful when I move around, or I could find myself in a similar situation. And of one thing Amy is sure, she is not about to plant a hammer in someone's brain anytime soon.

She follows suit and kneels before the prince, looking at him in the eye. She doesn't know enough to form an opinion on him, but at the moment, she likes the no-nonsense attitude "My name is Amy Everett" she says, in a clear tone, to prevent any comment from those idiots in the peanut gallery. Before I died, I was a daughter and a sister. I was allergic to nuts and loved to curl on the bed with a coffee and a pack of cookies. I wanted to do something with my life, and tonight I just wanted to have some fun with a cute boy her mind supplies on its own. Now I guess I'll have to figure out what I am. "I too promise to uphold the six traditions".

She gets up when she's given permission to, and moves to take her place between the other Nosferatu, but not before turning to Danielle to give her and an encouraging look, of the 'I'm rooting for you' kind. She takes a seat next to Mike, addressing a smile to both him and Slick. She has question for them, but they would have to wait until after the trial.

[Worlok]

Right. Don't do anything we don't tell you to do, or tell us about it when you do. Don't get all up on a brother's turf, and noone comes for yours. Don't kill us, but be prepared to kill everyone else to not let them know that we're killing people all over the place. Also, no murder in public. Cool. I can work with this. Faruq considered. There were obvious holes in this, but the old goblin seemed cool enough, and at any rate, he'd have to live with these people now, for better or for worse, until the grand plan could come to fruition. Playing along is easier than I thought it would be. Bowing low before this Prince of theirs, Jean du Noir, Faruq al-Assad did his best to sound as respectful as the occasion demanded, yet he could not avoid a certain nervosity tinting his speech with the kind of forcedly-casual mannerisms one picks up over the years in his career: "Say... Yer majesty? 's 'at the right title? "Yer majesty"? All due respec', and y'know, I mean it, but I'd have a question or two." Best to just spit it out right off, though. As long as the worst thing that can happen is for Miss Forrest to get angry letters, I should be cool. "'cos, really? I can swear to this, no problem, but I's still kinda confused with some things, y'know?" And it's not like my "sire" was much of a help so far. Hoping for a reply, he remained in his bowing posture, sticking to the old standard that looking nobility in the eyes unbidden is a breach of protocol, and hoping they could forgive his idea of good manners being a different one from most people's. Remember, they'll want ya to kiss his hand. That's not gay. He's a goblin. It's hardly even sexual. I can do this. Nothing strange about it at all. It's just a bunch of questions I will have to ask, they can't exactly deny me that little. And with that concern out of the way, he found himself ready for whatever the guy's reaction would entail. Focus, Faruq, get this over with, pledge the very rest of your existence to upholding the rules of the folks that killed you, and bide your time. You'll get your chance eventually, even if right now, it all depends on the next thing the goblin says.

Does Faruq's count as "reasonably high perception"? I currently have some catching up to do, but it might be important to know. :smallbiggrin:

[daelrog]

The reactions to Faruq's words were as varied as the kindred gathered themselves. Most, however, were curious on what the Prince would do.

As Jean's right hand remained outstretched, his left rubbed his chin. "Yes, you are confused, of that there is no doubt. No, it's not my job to answer your questions. Come to me in five years if you manage to survive, I'll be happy to dine and chat with you. Until then, I'm not particularly interested. Now fledgling, be a gentleman and allow the poor young lady standing over there to have her trial. It would be cruel to make her wait any longer."

[Worlok]

Huh. Faruq wasn't particularly sure he liked the implications of that phrasing. Namely, that there was any doubt as to whether or not he would survive five years, and that all of these "vampires" were as dismissive and full of themselves as Melanie. But he was getting ahead of himself, and thereby well into the kind of mood in which every little thing grows a thousandfold in severity and annoys one most horribly. Quelling a suddenly emerging multitude of outbursts that may or may not have involved him calling the Prince a "glorified, uppity road-bump on stilts" in Arabic before they left his mouth, forcing his rage to calm down with a desperate effort of self-control, he heaved a last sigh, as well-aware of the various, varied reactions around him as he would get, kissed the outstretched hand with all the controlled calm and dignity of an upstanding Arabic drug-dealer kissing the hand of something that offered to dine with him years from now despite looking like it had, in turn, already been digested centuries ago, and uttered: "Of course, yer Majesty. It shall thus be" Almighty One, give me the strength. "a pleasure and a privilege" And the confidence. "to prove my worth" And the force of will. "and honor the traditions" And the insight. "to the best of my ability." And damn it all, a peppermint and something for that smell, I mean, like, holy balls, whatever did they douse the guy in? Toilet paper not a thing when you're the living dea- Wait. Is it, actually?

And having delivered his spiel, far as he knew with a perfect impression of breeding and etiquette, he stepped back, still smiling and the picture of submission and respect, but now entertaining some interesting notions on the points he had intended to make, his questions, the functionality of the average vampire's digestive tract, the implications of a five-year-wait slapped onto a "maybe", and this obnoxious "trial" he was about to witness, there. "No further questions from me, so far, then. And ye're on for that thing in five years. But 'pol'gies for me interruptin', though." And some part of him still hoped to have Melanie cringing with his every word, and another suddenly felt like he had made a fool of himself, but a third commended his not-flying-off-the-handle there, whereas a fourth made further failsafe strategies up as the others went. "And I mean it. You got a business to run here, I can respect that. We cool?" He actually did mean that, Faruq noticed. Not the old goblin's fault he was already fed up with the way things would apparently simply continue to work from here on out, after all. But still. Eventually, he would have to lay down a piece of his mind. Eventually. Not now. Control, Faruq, control.

[daelrog]

The Prince gave Faruq a measured look. He then smiled. "Oh what I would do to be a fly on the wall when Melanie thanks Josef for his choice." His French accent deepened, and over half the kindred laughed. Melanie did not, though niether did she show anger at the comment as Josef showed, if only for a brief moment.

He clapped his hands together twice above his head as a gesture to lighten up the mood. "So it is, all of you are accepted into my city. For now you are fledglings, you are your sire's responsibility until they feel you are ready to be on your own, however as a mortal child is to a parent you will serve them and learn from them to the degree that they see fit."

He moved back to his chair.

"I believe before the trial, some introductions are in order. For those of you have not been told yet, we are members of the Camarilla, the largest, most organized group of kindred on the planet, and dare I say the one that is least harmful to humanity. Of the thirteen Clans, seven have allied to it. Sitting up here are the elders of each Clan.

"To the end is Hayden Cross, Primogen of Clan Brujah. Sadly she's lost a childer tonight. Then there is Rogan, Primogen of Clan Gangrel. We're not sure whether or not Gregor is older or not, but I suppose it's a moot point. Then is Josef Kirsch, primogen of Clan Ventrue, and former Seneschal to the last Prince. Behind my chair is Donovon, the new Seneschal, my right hand. She is of my Clan. Then there is Henry Sanderson, Primogen of Clan Tremere and my warmaster should war be decalred upon us. Sean Loveless of Clan Toreador who is also Keeper of Elysium, Elysium being the neutral ground we are free to interact and politic with one another freely. Last we have eldest, and only, member of Clan Malkavian, Cassidy. He also is our Scourge. The Scourge is the one who deals with those who come to my city unannounced, to deal with thin bloods if they step out of line. Cassidy?"

For the first time since entering, Cassidy took his eyes off Danielle. He blinked, also the first since they entered. "Hey."

"Yes, very good Cassidy. Now then, Danielle, is it? Please step forward. Al Rowe, our Sheriff, the one who enforces our laws shall ironically enough be defending you. After much debate and threats, Rogan, Primogen of Clan Gangrel will be the main prosecutor as it were. You have the floor Rogan."

Rogan smiled menacingly, and stood up.

Bahaha! This was actually planned in advanced. I was so glad when I saw Claire try to comfot Danielle. What does she think of her sire now?

I'll give some time for reactions before Rogan begins his prosecution.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Settling into her chosen seat Claire finally paid serious attention to the proceedings. Her part was done, now if only the rest could hurry up. She felt herself shaking her head as Faruq spoke both times.

She had to wonder just what that demographic oddity was thinking. Though come to think of it she'd met his type before. Thought they were God's own gift to every woman in the room and couldn't come up with an intelligent thought to save their life. Sometimes she wondered what it must be like to be the center of the universe, well more then anywhere else at the same time but phrases rarely had much to do with science.

"Well the Court has its fool fitted for motley at least," She muttered under her breath, her controlled silence finally slipping a touch. Though only those nearest to her could possibly have heard the soft whisper. It was a almost shame really, she'd have loved to hear how an Arab with a Scottish accent had ended up in Washington. Didn't matter now though really. They were done at least. As the Prince introduced the Primogen Claire confirmed Sean Loveless' identity as apparently his real name, and wondered what Rogan had told him (if anything) about the events that had brought her here. The name Kirsch also rang a bell, wasn't that same name as on one of the bigger companies in town. He'd embraced the woman in the suit too, interesting.

Rogan being called up took Claire by surprise. She felt herself tense up, taking in an unnecessary breath and holding it. She forced herself to relax after a moment. Rogan had in a way been fair with her, honoring her final requests when he didn't have to. He'd been gentle with her even. And now she knew in full why Gary had ended up dead, the law their 'Masquerade' had obviously demanded it. And yet Rogan was cold too, he'd fed one of his own subordinates to her simply because she would need a meal. Charlie's blood was on her hands, but his to. And Gary, a friend someone she knew was dead just because he'd stumbled onto something he couldn't possibly guess at. Once again it was clear to her just how little she knew the man.

Damn it all. She could only hope Danielle could reign herself in. The girl didn't seem to be quite accept what was happening to her judging by some of the things she'd said. Maybe no one had done the clearly impossible in front of her like Rogan had to her. Though not Mc'Arab's tongue she'd shown some insolence. What was it Rogan had said about Victor and why he'd preferred her. Survival instinct. Claire had faced up to what was going on and taken the only thing that would keep her going. She'd submitted to the superior force for her own survival. If the girl wasn't willing to do something similar... Claire feared for the teen all over. Damn it all.

[dancrilis]

Danielle moved forward sharply when indicated to do so, her anger still present and growing hard and cold like ice as time passed, she had a feeling of gratitude for the prince when he had not stalled this farce for whatever curiosity the Arabic man had.

So Al was the law enforcer, and in fairness had enforced the law to the letter, report new vampires in the city and don't destroy them unless you have permission, and the man studying her was the person tasked with destroying her, and her accuser was one of those that had been unhappy with her speaking earlier, fine.

She wanted to smile back at the man's grin, but after holding his gaze for a brief instant could not bring herself to do it, she could however save Al a bit of hassle in her night, she faced the prince her voice crisp and clear "Apologies for speaking out of turn, however as I indicated to your Seneschal earlier I would not wish to cause Al Rowe", the name was said with a hint of earned respect, "any additional issue. Your society seems to make use of collective blame to an extent that any association with a criminal element could likely be deemed a negative, she has followed your laws as I understand them while showing me" respect, no that wasn't quite right "courtesy, and as such I would not wish to personally impose further on her to her detriment", she finished with an nod of apology for the interruption, directed at the prince.

I will likely die a second time tonight, considering the bodies likely painfully as a lesson to the new approved vampires, but if so I will die standing up for myself and not hiding like a child, her face was impassive but her mind was set.

[daelrog]

Sean Loveless spoke up, his words directed at Al. "Oh, see little flower? Even the Caitiff knows how much prestige you'll lose in this trial. Oh, don't clench your jaw, Al. We'll understand if you change your mind."

Al did not dignify it with a response.

Rogan waved away the banter and began. "Jean, I'm disappointed that you're actually taking this trial seriously. What more reason do we need than the Third Tradition? If that isn't enough to satisfy you, consider how her sire turned out? Consider how every Caitiff turns out? Rumors of Desmund's eccentricies have already surfaced."

He pointed an accusing fingers at the bodies in the back. "You did not hesitate to end the lives of those kine who were closer to her sire to protect the masquerade, what makes her different?"

He turned, finally looking at Danielle. She said his yellow, cat-like eyes. "Even if she would follow the Traditions, even if she would try to serve us, she is weak. She is of 14th generation, she is Caitiff, and the hunter has caught onto her scent, putting any of us and our possessions near her in danger. Jean, she is not strong enough to be one of us by her blood. Even a lamb with a strong will, is still just a lamb."

[Worlok]

Where some might have expected and espoused more in the way of countenance, Faruq now couldn't help but let go of a share of his self-control for a short while and count himself among the laughing half of the gathering. Something about that flippant, dearly unimpressed and clearly quite devastating comment the Prince had made, along with his notable smile and obvious insight into the affairs of Kirsch and Forrest had put his sputtering, rambling mind at ease for a mere second, taken the tension away just once, even put that proverbially short fuse of his out for a spell, and it had been enough to push what had been but a forced, if well-portrayed facsimile over into a far more genuine positivity. It was a sort of stress-relief, is what I'm saying here.

We's definitely cool, Old Goblin. Small, crotchety and strangely-smelling as you are. he thought, in between memorising those exact looks on his sire's and the German's faces, flashing a broad, gloating smirk their ways and biting back wave after wave of throaty, raucous, evil laughter he so dearly wanted to let out, where so far, he only allowed himself a low, weasely snicker - because while the agressions, frustrations and rages within his heart had certainly been redirected, they had not been snuffed out: See? See me laughing in your faces here? You failures told me I should try to not make an ass of myself, and now -you- are the butts of the joke, -you- are the ones that have made the mistakes, and I -have- made asses. Of -you-! You like that, huh? Me winning once again? Me being cool with the Old Goblin while you're laughing-stock for everybody else? Say, Melly, hope that you get a good reading in, here, because this? This right here? This is -me- making this pleasant. For everyone except -you-! And you better believe there's more where this comes from! This in my eyes? This is me lording it over you, and this is the social part of your destiny travelling -really- fast! Bitches, let it be known that Faruq al-Assad just won again!

He almost felt like dancing, reining himself in only when he remembered that he was still at a life-or-death-trial here - No, flipping the two senior Ventrue off, casually and sneaky-like while nobody else was looking, would have to suffice for the here and now. Or maybe for the later, somewhere else. Or for the ne'er, the nowhere, and the not at all. ...the -HELL-? Why am I not enjoying this as much as I should? Why are my middle fingers not firmly facing them right now? Why do I almost feel... There was a strange memory now, of him, throughout the pains of torture, withdrawal, starvation, mockery, and his entire life coming crashing down, still feeling a certain attachment, yes, fondness even, for Melanie, but not in a wholly natural way, rather as if something deep inside him kept trying to convince everything else inside him that she actually wasn't all that horrible. But there were also memories of commands, of helplessness, of being threatened, ultimately murdered, and told that it was his own fault, as he lay beaten, disarmed, half-delirious and dying in his sorry state. Wait. Sorry! That's it! It's pity, is all I'm feelin'. That's all. I pity them. Because I'm a decent person, while she's just a proper bitch, and he's just a poofty Kraut. Exactly that's the way this went, and there's no other. Do not think about it, Faruq. Enjoy this. You have them beat.

And thus he would, he figured, as he turned his full attention towards this nastily grinning 'Rogan' type, drowning out all thoughts of pity, of fondness, of memories, engaging in the here and now to see what other good he could accomplish there - He was, after all, victorious Faruq al-Assad, who had won at the Ventrue's game without even playing! The conquering Lion and feintful Ferret, the glorious Afghan and jubilant Scot! God's own gift to every woman in the room and center of the universe! Who'd dare to stand against him now? Who could deny his triumph? What jackass could not see His justice served? Who would now still stand besides them, when they have been ridiculed by their very Prince? Who, who, could now still deny that I have been so much smarter, much blessed-er, harder, and tougher, and sexier too, than -them-? WHO COULD NOW -POSSIBLY- STILL DARE TO PISS ON THE NAME OF FARUQ IBN KHALED IBN MOHAMMED AL-ASSAD? WHO WOULD NOW STAND AGAINST -ME-??? BWAHAHA. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Ha. Haha. Ha. Hrmph. Well. Nevermind. Let's never mention that again, and concentrate on this here little trial. Everyone is watching her now, so should I, noone is watching me, because my part is played, and I have won, now time to share the winnings. Yes. Yes, that will be what I shall do. Just to wait for the right opportunity now... Still, the odd giggle or snort escaped him, while he strove to keep his face on straight, and pointedly ignore the Ventrue - Except Erica, who, much like Claire and Danielle and basically everyone, did, after all, also fall into the category of "women in the room which God had blessed with him", and hence deserved a passing glance and fair share of his greatn... Focus! Focus, dammit! This is life or death, Faruq, you're not yet outta hero-tier. But elation, wondrous exaltation, holy-most enrapturement - He'd won! No matter. Watch this, it's about to get interesting, after all. You can always brag and get fresh with folks later on.

Won.

Won.

Won!

[Dark Seeker]

A child, being the warmaster? Rick could scarcely believe it. But there was something a little off about the kid. For all Rick knew, the boy might be older than him.

I can't judge by appearances, especially in this society. But great, apparently even children outrank me in my clan.

He settles in, watching the trial with interest. Apparently Claire's sire was leading the crusade to see Danielle die. Though he hopes she survives, Rick, realizing he can't do anything to impact the discussion either way, focuses instead on examining the reaction in the room when Rogan and Al Rowe speak. If nothing else, it might help him sniff out whom was favorable to whom, which could be a useful nugget of information sometime down the line.

[daelrog]

Melanie's face was a blank, but Trent and Quenton each gave Faruq a stern look of warning.

Quenton leaned over to whisper to Rick. "That one is on a quick path to final death. I'd steer clear of him." Trent heard, grunting in approval.

Rogan continued. "Jean, I know you. You're curious, too damn curious. She's not worth the enmity it will gain you. Tradition, logic, and even recent events all point to her that she must die."

He moved to sit down. All eyes turned to Al.

[Worlok]

Here there be rolls, this post to be updated accordingly:

Perception plus Alertness: [roll0]

Does two successes plus one botch equal one success? Or not? This is kinda important here. :smallconfused:

Also, speaking of rolls to notice things: Could be I'm just missing something here, but is Rogan adressing Mr. Loveless, or the Prince - Because "Sean" and "Jean" are kind of an easy one to confuse by typo, and all? :smallredface:

[daelrog]

Rogan is speaking to Jean. As Prince, he alone he will decide Danielle's fate.

Sean is simply poking fun at Al for defending Danielle.

[dancrilis]

The fat man confirmed what Trent had indicated earlier and what she suspected due to the tone that was set, Al was putting herself at some sort of difficult for her at any rate ... or if not precisely for her then for a plan involving her which she had the decency to indicate in the van earlier.

When Rogan indicated the bodies Danielle turned to look at them, 'were closer to her sire', were they Billy's family, friends, school mates, she tried to remember if she had seen them before ... what made her different was likely that she had been turned into a blood drinking monster and so fell within a greyer area involving the sixth tradition.

She turned to look at him as he turned to address her, this time holding the gaze of the yellow cat eyes, and as he moved to sit she spoke up. "I would actually agree with you in part, your third tradition seems fairly clear cut, and makes a degree of logic sense - though I would wonder about my sire's other potential childer, of which I understand there were some this week", she left unsaid that she believed they were dead - largely because if they were then it seemed unlikely that Billy would have survived to get to her and hell might as well make them confirm for themselves, she did feel bad about telling these creatures about them, but they were too dangerous to other people of they were out there both directly and indirectly.

Continuing, "I would however like to confirm your logic on the hunter, you indicate that I am a weak lamb and that a strong predator is after me, your solution is to kill the lamb and hope the predator goes away?" pausing briefly "Surely a more logical solution would be to bait the predator with it's prey to ensure the safety of the rest of the flock", shrugging, credit where it was due even when it was somewhat an obvious idea "which I understand to be part of your sheriff's intentions", continuing on reflex her composed façade cracking slightly allowing the cold anger through, "further on this strength of the blood, you indicate that I am weak and would not be able to stand up to the hunter - which is true - yet however it was achieved I did survive his first attacks on me, I would be curious as to what strength the recent additions to your society have that I lack which would have allowed them to fare better", considering what she had said, probably should have held my tongue on that last part, but he should be prepared to answer it.

The room seemed to be waiting for Al to speak, but really what could she say, her plan was logical for the protection of the society, and if Danielle could see that and the others couldn't then repeating it would not change things, similarly the third tradition seemed clear enough that this would be open and closed ... considering the situation with pure bad mindedness with a likely probation period to allow Al to enact her plan followed by - if I survive - a summary execution on which ever grounds suited the prince and primogen, that way everyone was a winner - except me.

[daelrog]

Al put a hand on Danielle's shoulder. "No Danielle, you were the oly childer he made. The others he simply kill outright."

It was not Rogan, but the Hayden Cross, primogen of Clan Brujah who spoke. "You did not survive by your strength girl. You died because Al decided your life was more valuable than Brett's." Her fist slammed against the table, sending a large crack into the table. "You're alive because he threw himself at that monster under his lover's orders, so don't you dare talk about strength girl."

Al kept her calm, her grip tightening on Danielle. "You know my plan, Jean. From what we saw, he's learned some new tricks. He likely isn't even human any more, to call him kine would be a diservice to Brett. Her death is miniscule compared to Jackal the Ninebladed."

Jean nodded his head in agreement to the last statement.

The boy-Primogen spoke next. His voice was a child's but it held a greater weight than any, taking away any illusion that he was young. "The problem is Ms. Rowe, is that you are assuming your plan will succeed. Mr. Davenfeldt was a Brujah of eighty years, and a talented one at that. Ten years ago we sent the police after him, and we ended up with a lot of dead policemen. Even that wretched Irishman refused to deal with the problem."

"Do you have a better plan, Primogen? You are quick to criticize, but do you have any insights to offer?"

"Well, the alternative has already been discussed. Simply kill the Caitiff here and now. She's the best connection he has to the city. He is powerful, but he lacks connections and resources. We tighten the masquerade and put a short leash on the fledglings. We misdirect him towards Seattle or Portland, and let them deal with him."

[dancrilis]

Danielle glared at the woman briefly she had not indicated that she could stand up to the hunter merely that she had not died instantly and that she doubted the fledglings as they called them could have done better with there thicker blood, what ever that really meant.

She forced herself to remain calm about it, the creature was apparently suffering from grief and there was no call to rub it in, she looked away.

She was somewhat reassured by Al's presence, the woman might be willing to kill her the instant the prince gave the word, and might have killed the others in the room as part of her duties looking for Billy but at the least she was somewhat honest about things and calm in her dealings.

She listened to the boy as he spoke, there was a certain cold logic there also that she had not considered, but it was the logic of hoping things would work out while ignoring the possibility they wouldn't, with no back up plan.

This time through it was an effort of will not to speak on her own behalf, she managed to hold herself silent.

[Strawberries]

Amy follows the proceedings with attention, occasionally glancing to the side at Mike and Slick to see how they're taking it. How her clan members react to the trial is an insight she feels she may need. At least she knows where the dead bodies are coming from, and while it doesn't make it alright by any stretch of the imagination, at least they haven't been killed for sport. Though, wouldn't six disappearances be tougher to explain than just the one? Maybe they’ve heard or seen things that they shouldn’t have. Amy has to control a shiver.

This is a load of bull. she studies the primogen's faces and their responses to the trial. She is particularly incensed by Rogan’s attitude Weak, right. Let’s kill you, then turn your entire worldview upside down, then put you in a strange place, alone, among people who want you dead, and see if you react half as well as she is, shall we? I volunteer. she thinks, scathingly.

“Hunters. There are hunters, too?” she whispers to Mike, surprised. “Like, the van Helsing kind of hunters? Stakes, garlic and all that jazz?” She doesn’t know if she should be worried, or laugh. Oh, let’s misdirect him towards Seattle, then it won’t be our problem anymore, really. Kindreds aren’t so different from human beings, after all “Are we allowed to say something?” Because she has something to say, make no mistake about it. If she’s holding her tongue is just because she’s afraid of putting Mike into troubles.

[daelrog]

Good move.:smallsmile:

"Cowardice is a double-edged sword Tremere. Complacency prevents risk, but it also takes success away as well."

The boy-elder did not seem insulted. Apparently to him being called a coward was not a big deal. "A well thought out argument. No wonder Sean fears you taking his place."

Seans smile faded, and he adjusted himself. "No doubt this is a political move of our little angel. I wonder if she's willing to take full responsibility for this. What will she do if it fails?"

"That is for the Prince to decide." Al met Sean's stare. The fledgelings watching could see something frieghtening in Sean's eyes.

"Yes, it is." Jean's words wrung clear in the room. "Al, as always you are wise, as always you are willing to put yourself on the line, which is commendable in equal measure to foolish. However, all you speak about is the hunter. Why should I be the Prince who allowed the 14th generation Clanless girl embraced without permission to live? Come now Al, don't expect me to make this decision on good faith alone, I gave up my good faith during the French Revolution."

At this Al did not have an immediate answer. Her brow furrowed, and she was lost in thought.

Sean gave a friendly wink to Danielle as if he knew something. For some reason, it did not come across as patronizing or conniving, but as a good to honest friendly wink.

-

Slick and Miek seemed to be curious about the affair more than anything. Mike showed some concern, but she wasn't sure what or who he was concerned about. Slick's face was too ugly to read, even as he has his human face on. Flat Face kept his eyes closed in thought, rocking his chair back and forth. He looked calm.

Mike answered her. "Yeah, there are hunters. Usually they kill the stupid kindred, and move on. Occasionally they get lucky and bag an elder, but not often. Most of them are crazy. Makes sense when they fight boogey man and no one believes them. That Jackal guys somethign else though. They say he's got powers like us, that he's no kindred, but he ain't human either. There's a lot of monsters out there Amy. Wizards, goblins, werewolves, things we don't even know about."

When she asked about involvement he shook his head. "Don't. This is an elders' game. The trial has nothing to do with the girl, it's all about who the Prince wants to make happy, and who he wants to piss off. Most of the Primogen up there don't care either, it's all leverage to use." He shrugged his shoulders. "Chances are anything you say would hurt her."

"Especially if what you say is true. The old ones don't like being corrected." It was Flat Face this time. "Everything's already been decided anyways."

[Strawberries]

Werewolves and goblins. I’m officially going mad. “Alright, I’ll shut up. But this is a fat load of bull all the same, you know that, right?” It is unintentional, but this time her voice is a smidgeon more loud. Not so much to be heard all the way to the Primogen table, perhaps, but she’s always found difficult to control her tone when she’s angry, and someone of the kindred around will probably be able to hear her. It goes all the way down to the grade school playground, really, and apparently it hasn’t changed now that she’s dead.

[Worlok]

The important moment seemed to already have passed unnoticed, or so it would have seemed to Faruq, who had been hoping for some sort of keyword which would allow him to launch right into some manner of long-winded, dramatic speech, occupy some time and space and make it known to the world of kindred politics that none who shared the blood of 'mad al-Assad was to be ignored or trifled with - so as to finally argue his points, spit out his questions, celebrate his victory some more and possibly come out of this as both a hero and a richer man. Yet as it stood, he found himself watching two random shmoes whispering and losing himself in the notion. Why did they seem so interesting all of a sudden? One of them was the P.I. from earlier, Rick. The other one... Likely his sire, then. Don't think we've been introduced, anyway. At any rate, they best not be whispering about me, there.

Then, however, something different caught his ear: The French Revolution? Old Goblin's really old, then, that was like, what, a houndred years ago? Makes sense, though - You've died once already, chances are you do not age much further. Maybe decompose. The young man shuddered, or felt like shuddering, as the notion passed over him. Which would explain the smell, though, come to think of it. And happens to be a perfect argument. After all, the implications of some of these people being older than they appeared, and potentially older than all of the USA, or similar, were rather obvious, and as such, easily combined with the holes in the traditions. And then that name... Jackal the Nine-Bladed. Kinda poser, huh? This is it, sexy clanless girl, I know exactly what to do!

And loudly, he proclaimed, stylishly waiting for the first short silence, the first minor break in conversation: "You people do realise that this is a huge waste of time, basically, don't ya, now?"

And on that cliffhanger, I'll have to leave for today. I've been working for longer than is healthy, and do desperately need some shut-eye. Hope to catch y'all soon enough to continue, though. :smallredface:

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica doesn't even look at the outburst. As Faruq begins speaking, she closes her eyes. By the time he finishes, she has covered her forehead and eyes with one slender hand. As he finished, she peeked over her fingers to gauge Jean du Noir's and the primogen's reaction.

[Dark Seeker]

Seeing Faruq's outburst, Rick nods at his sire's words.

"I am starting to get that impression, yes."

He eyes the prince, intent on how he'll respond.

[dancrilis]

So he wants a reason to let me live that is not based on faith and good will, ha that was rich, she also was not sure what the fat man, Sean was it wanted he seemed to be almost pleasant for a second their ... she doubted that thought.

At the man's question about it being a waste of time, she almost yelled at him that it that was obvious from the beginning, but she stopped herself and took a second to calm herself, calling him on it would not help her and may harm him for no reason other then her spite at the situation he was not the cause of, as such she did what she normally did when someone who loved there own voice spoke words that said nothing ... she ignored the outburst.

Turning to the prince as of nothing had happened since he made his mind clear, "Sir, please correct me if I am wrong, but what you are looking for cannot be given. You are seeking a provable reason to spare me that benefits your society more then any of my potential actions could harm it, however at a relative outsiders viewpoint I can provide you with none of that", thinking for a second "if a member of a clan commits a crime the crime falls on the sire, and the sire's sire going back as far as possible, and through them it passes to all the childer to encompass the entire clan ... that is if I have understood the vow made earlier correctly, as such when a member of a clan commits a crime the entire clan is responsible, and so regardless of the crime or the perpetrator your society can have its price from the clan in exchange for peace. With me - or any clanless vampire - that would not be the case, if I commit a crime it is on me and if I cannot pay the balance then you as a society lose out" she shrugged, which meant they could not allow her to live.

Considering carefully "Given this I feel that arguing my potential benefit is somewhat fruitless, for example I could tell you that I am involved in missing person groups and could use this provide a safe means of securing closure for people that have lost relatives so that they do not search for their loved ones and thereby prevent breaches of this masquerade, and to be clear I would do this not for you or even for myself but because they should have closure and this would be the safest method of providing it for them", pausing briefly and indicating the bodies, "and I would advise you that sooner or later people will notice they are missing even if it is only the tax man", continuing "but then I could also tell you I speak 5 languages, can play the piano and know how to kick with accuracy and speed higher then my head", in a somewhat dull tone "but I would assume that none of that impresses you in the slightest, so your only call is as follows as I see it", taking a breath that was again not needed "Kill me and avoid the most obvious risks that I am not trustworthy, or let me live and hope that my benefits outweighs my negatives" her face expressionless "and I somehow doubt that you have lived so long by taking unnecessary risks".

There she had said it, it was a cold logic but if it made it easier for him then well at least she had given him cause to ensure polite closure for the victims families - and her own mother - she couldn't expect to get better then that tonight, she had sold her death as steeply as she really felt she could.

[daelrog]

Mike said nothing, nor did Slick. Flat Face chuckled quietly. “Oh, and are you saying that humans politics are any better.” It was more of a statement than a question.



Faruq’s words changed a lot. Now almost every kindred looked over to Faruq in disbelief, or anger. The fashionable clique in the middle were grinning like fools, anticipating what was to come. Danielle spoke her words, but they were lost on the Prince who was focusing on Faruq now. The Prince looked over curiously. Though it was Josef who stood up first, red in the face. “Damn you, you insolent, stupid little man! I will-“ His voice was cut immediately as Jean lifted his hand up.

Jean du Noir gave Faruq an appraising look. “Faruq, is it? We had a name for your kind back in Paris. We called them ‘le pitre’, which translates into clowns. Please, look around you, and find a single kindred in this room who is impressed by you, find even one of the servant ghouls who thinks you impressive. No? You cannot find any? I will inform you, and the other fledgling just this once, so you may understand.

“A waste of time you say? You see nothing. Your eyes are too busy staring at an underage girl’s ass to pay attention to what matters, not understanding that we are settling several delicate matters that otherwise would have been resolved with bloodshed. You think my jest at Josef was to your benefit? You hear nothing. You are too busy convincing yourself of baseless superiority derived from a Western culture that teaches everyone they’re special to understand I labeled you a fool. As a human you were nothing but a petty crook, no? If you were presented in front of the most ill-reputed criminals in the city would you speak to them this way? I wonder because we own most of them.

“Flat Face, remove his tongue, he’s lost the privilege to use it in my presence. Josef, any kindred of your Clan has my consent to give him final death if you choose. I will not stand for a fledgling dancing around my city like a monkey causing problems.” Not at one point did Jean lose his temper. His voice was more akin to one giving a casual debate.

Flat Face stood up, cracking his knuckles, and pulling out a large hunting knife. As he did, Quenton turned to Trent. “Wait, why does Flat Face get his knife?” Trent shrugged.

“Now then Al, I had a question for you.”

As Flat Face closed in on Faruq, Al responded. "As you no doubt heard her, she holds a solid grasp of the situation. She's also smarter than at least one of the properly embraced kindred. Also, the book is yours."

Jean smiled. "Well then, it looks like we have a deal then. Only a few loose ends to tie up then. Danielle, if you would say your name, your full name, and kiss my hand, and swear upon the six traditions you will be accepted into my city, under the condition that your life is dependant upon the death of the hunter, Jackal the Ninebladed."

[Strawberries]

Oh, God is Amy's first thought when she hears the order being given. A little part of her brain goes Stay down and shut up, for God's sake, otherwise they'll kill you too, but the largest part, beside being horrified, is counteracting with You know the guy. He bought s pack of chips and talked about the weather. He is a human being and alright, he's probably an idiot, but are you really going to let this happen without saying anything? Because if so, it would have been much better if you had stayed dead an hour ago. Because I sure as hell don't know who you are anymore.

That seems like quite a long debate, but in reality, in the mind, it doesn't take much time. Less than a second later, Amy has jumped on her feet and is saying, hoping desperatly that it would work "Your majesty!" which probably isn't the proper way to address the prince, but screw that. "Would you accept a plea for him?" The first part of the sentence is spoken urgently; the second, as humbly as Amy can manage.

Amy is operating on the assumption that they're going to kill Faruq. Which may not necessarily be true, but she has no way of knowing.

[Worlok]

Now, while he'd had daggers drawn on him before, Faruq was not a guy for fighting, and he certainly didn't want to get stabbed over some old geezer's dearly devastated ass. He figured some explaining could just do the trick, however, and he did have their attention, now: "Nah, really, I mean it. Dis is such a load, it's like you basically don't even need a trial. You want justice? Then you can't hate on no victims, here, dat much is obvious, or i'n't it, now?" Seeing how I'm speaking now already, anyway, I might as well continue. Did that guy just draw a knife on me? Did he just order him to get my tongue? It's prolly just a test, don't bother. "Way I see it, all you's doin' is put on a show, and act like you's like all-important and in charge. Which you might be, no question, but I just don't see the point, alright?" He paused, looking around, standing a little more straight, a little more resolved, and bent on this whole deal's fast resolution, confused and afraid though he was by now.

"See, obviously, I don't yet know how this whole thing works, y'see? Like, you tell me you's Ca-ma-rya, and dat's like yer gang, and basically there are like seven clans in dat one? But there's thirteen left or some? Alright. But me, I's speaking as a guy wha' did already have a clan before this, like, al-Assad is my name, 'n' all. 'n' basically, I didn' even lis'en to the half of it, 'cos it's a lil' bit much to take, alright? But wha' I did, I done been told that everybody who I ever done looked up to, they's a corpse." Or, basically, screw it. Speed's all gathered, now. "Like, not a dead one, but mo' like a livin' one, like yous. Mah uncle, he done given me a second chance, and he's a Kind-red, like the bunch a you, and his name's like Ahmad al-Assad, what done iced that Weinmann brother, who I have been told was like yer pre-de-cessa', Ol... yer majesty. Alright? So, I's not sayin', I'm the enemy, I'm tellin' you you better lis'en, if yer wan' my word on dis, 'cos, like, my word's like follows, ken?"

By now, he'd caught his breath, was settling into flow and meter of his speech, trying to focus on the very essence of his Goddamn-Ferret drug-dealing convincing power like so many times before, yet still he found his panic surging up, much like his anger, and his accent slipping, like too many times since coming to America. Plus, well, that one flat-faced jackass now bore down on him, blade drawn, which was the reason why he talked so very fast: "The hell is wrong with you, ye wankers?" Prolly not a test, then. Not as planned. "Like, real talk, Princeship? I done been impressed by you. I seen dis hall fulla punks for myself by now, and I'm nah impressed by nah single one a' dem either. But I was impressed by you, running the business, not givin' a damn and stylin' on ol' Krauty here like noone'd even bother. Ya wan' that to be over, now? Like, really done-dead-over up in here? Then go ahead, sic dat dere ass on me. But honestly? Bitch looks like he done failed to dodge a door every so often, and you send 'im in a fight with me? You better believe all dat's e'er gonna get you is like some ten(!) dead(!) men(!) up in dis once it's over and dat one homie with a whack-ass Croc'o-Dundee-knife what's done up even uglier than he done been before!" Prolly not the smartest of insults a dude can drop upon a bunch of goblins, but so what, they started it. Best to give him what for all it's worth.

"You want my tongue out? You call me a monkey? You say I'm a clown in French? Well, tough luck, Princy, and yer Western culture can go suck it, 'cos I's Arab, 'n' a lion, 'n' I'm smarter than the whole damn bunch a' you!" Fighting it is, then. Don't panic. Calm. Let 'im come, let 'im suffer, here! "When dis bitch dere firs' came for me, I thought she was the Mossad, yes?" Here, Faruq pointed at Melanie, while slowly, determinedly, stalking backwards, not breaking eye contact with Jean (Nobility be damned, you won't have it so easy, goblin bitch!), all the time readying himself in due expectance of a blow. "And I learned dat my uncle? He done iced some Jew. He iced dat Jew so bad his ho got wonky, and I figured, hey, alright, I get it, I can deal! But now? You know what I done realised jus' now? I almos' killed dat bitch when I was jus' a mortal, and I'm offa Kin-dred, now. It took her four damn bullets and like five gos withat damn ol' hammer jus' ta bust me over, so you bet your wrinkly, old-ass, faithless... ass dat I can bust ya up in turn! AND HOW!"

He proceeded to spit, right there, down on the carpet, to get some of the gathered saliva out of his mouth. He had it. He had it with the Kindred, with the lies, with all the playing of this masquerade of theirs, and most importantly, he'd had it with these people thinking they were tough crap when they weren't, obviously. He was the toughest, after all, and on the top, it's really only lonely cause there can be only one. "So I'd say, you wanna come for me? You can have a go! But you don't get to push me over, you don't get to push me down, and I'll give as many as you care to take, and still be standin' when we're done with it, y'know?" By this point, he had backed against a wall. Expectant, ready 'n' waitin', divide the herd. "But you better be realisin' dat to sic yer knife-boy on some guy that's smarter doesn't make ya look important, it just makes ya look afraid! You can't deal with a guy who outsmarts ya, then politics and ya bitch-ass owned criminals ain't got jack on me, and dey's nah no place for yous, either, hear?"

And trying to at least not go out without one last hoorah, he figured he could as well... just ask. Yeah. Basically. Panic washing over him, all over, fear of final death slowly, but surely, taking hold, he leveled a glance straight at Jean du Noir, Josef Kirsch, and the entire goddamn table, and pointedly asked: "So. Will you play it like a bitch, or will you hear me out here? You wanna take your chances I'll tear yer flat-head down and ice you, or take the chances that I just so happen to have a clue, and know what I'm talking about, and could help ya, here? Because it so happens, you want a trial, I have a proposition that will help everyone, 'n' not jus' her, not jus' you, nor jus' Jackass, either." Jackass the One-Shotted. Nice bad burn, that, but I gotta focus, life's on the line in here.

He almost felt like he had screwed up now, but he had opened his cup, he'd drink it, too. And what's so bad about likin' asses, now? Your balls already rotten off, or somethin'? Dis is like State a' Washington, 'n' not France. Age of consent is sixteen, here, and she's about at least that old or some-in' by the looks of her. Still, though, you people best not come for me, I tried to save ya, better you remember that. It simply got away. He was stubborn, for sure, and stupid. But that was where he stood, back to the wall, and with a chance of being listened to, now that he'd clearly taken up position. And as he so rambled, he felt something, maybe panic, maybe instinct, maybe God, take hold and blast forth from his anguished form and well into the Kindred gathered as he felt that this was it, his last and only shot at an impression. One to last, that was. Right. I got superpowers now.

Alright. Extreme measures, extreme circumstances, all that jazz. Seeing how this is kind of his last shot at making it, however, I figure some rolls are alright, y'see?

So, to intimidate (yes, intimidate, I'm insisting on it): Not so much Strength+Intimidation, but more like Charisma+Intimidation, plus maybe the two from voice? Would give: [roll0] (EDIT: Boo Yeah, DOUBLE-TEN!)

Then, to make a convincing point through all his panicked rambling, maybe the same+Expression, too? [roll1]

And ultimately, blowing off one Presence to use Awe. And this is final, now.

Also, don't misinterpret my phrasing, I'm neither mad at you, nor intentionally disruptive. Faruq is simply thinking that he's fighting for his life by now, and you are obviously free to just not count my rolls. I just figured I'd have him use his build at least once ere it's over. In case there's something you don't like about me doing this, or playing in this manner, or if there's something I oughta know about, simply take it up with me over in OOC. :smallsmile:

[Dark Seeker]

Rick is bothered, but not surprised by the prince's decision. Faruq had brought this on himself. There was a tradition behind these meetings that none of them could even begin to comprehend yet. All the same, he had been standing up for Danielle, so the detective gives him credit for that. Cutting his tongue out was extreme, but maybe it would finally impress upon him the need to tone it down a little. He'd not be long for this world otherwise.

Then Amy is on her feet, and he groans loudly, shooting her a look that questions her sanity. His companions may not be happy until all of them have their tongues cut out. Not him though. He's going to keep quiet, at least until he actually has the power to change things.

Until then though, you're sitting back and letting innocent people die. People that are trying to do the right thing. For God's sake, you left the department because of its corruption and moral bankruptness. You're going to sit here and let this injustice occur?

Yes. Rick answers. Speaking now accomplishes nothing, except getting myself killed. If I've learned nothing else, it's to pick my battles better.

He remains seated and watches the confrontation, even as his brain calls him a coward and a hypocrite. Maybe he was. But if it kept him alive and in good standing, maybe it was worth being one. Especially after Faruq goes on his rampage. Now he mainly feels concerned for Amy, and what speaking up for such a fool would do to her reputation.

Nothing personal Worlok. I greatly enjoy Faruq. Rick may take a bit of time to warm up to him, though. :smallwink:

[daelrog]

Oh no worries, though that is a long speech considering Flat Face is closing in on you. We'll let it play out though.

As Jean had his hand outstretched for Danielle to kiss, he seemed to be paying Faruq less and less attention. "No Amy, I will not hear any pleas for the idiot. He can grow his tongue back, though he shouldn't be in too much of a hurry to do so."

Flat Face caught a hold of Faruq, and went to work. Faruq could kick, and punch all he wanted, but never had he met someone so strong as Flat Face who picked him up like a ragdoll. Jean continued. "And yes Faruq, you clearly don't understand the way things work, however rather than listen and learn like your peers you chose to run your mouth off and pretend you did." Metal cut into flesh. Somehow Faruq could still hear Jean through the pain. "Understand the reason this is happening is not because of your insults, or your threats, but because you are being distracting. We have important matters to discuss tonight, and you are wasting our time. As soon as you cease your babbling, your existence will grow easier."

Rogan leaned over to Josef. "Weinmann was a Jew?"

Josef, who's mood had seemingly improved shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure where that delusion came from. He was a Taoist."

One of the fashionable clique took a picture of Flat Face and Faruq, the Nosferatu smiling for the picture.

[Soras Teva Gee]

As Faruq's tirade continued, Claire's fist slammed on her table before she could stop herself. She did however manage to remain in her seat. The last thing Danielle or anyone needed was some idiot poser thinking he was going to save the day.

Claire made polite apologies to anyone that happened to have noticed, though in the general murmur she hoped none had.

Still wading through Faruq accents and meaningless gyrating there were fascinating details. Just who was Faruq and how had someone like him not had his teeth knock in. And did he just say his uncle had killed the previous Prince? There was a puzzle there and Claire wanted to know the answer. Still she had to shelve that for later consideration. And because she didn't want to think about a man getting his tongue cut out more then she had too. Like the Prince had just said, he could grow it back. That made sense, the human body was not indestructible, if at vampire was not alive some 'magic' for lack of a better word must ensure a static state. Interesting but not important at the moment, Claire was still trying to keep her focus on the trial.

The Prince was speaking to Danielle again and if she caught that right, the teen would live. For now. If she'd followed all that right she was going to help fight some kind of hunter with a crazy nickname. Well that was better then nothing. This "Jackal" though, were they planning on telling any of the newcomers about this hunter? Claire had had enough of being assaulted. If they didn't mention more she'd have to bring it up with Rogan. She'd already had a loosing record in a fight, she needed to know enough to avoid them. And maybe how to win them too.

[Strawberries]

Dammit. Amy has to close her eyes briefly, disgusted. Underneath that, thoug, she is furious. You had made your point, you jerkass she thinks There was absolutely no reason for going through with it.

At least he's not dead she thinks, by way of consolation At least there's that.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
He warned you, he told you not to run your mouth. Think this is juvie where you get 'cleanup duty' if you misbehave? This is the big leagues, and they don't mess around if you don't fall in line; no 'cruel and unusual' clause here. Still, seems like the punishment isn't permanent, which is good. Can't look, stay focused on what's important... need to talk to Josef... what the hell is Jackal nine blades...

Erica forced herself to ignore her clanmate's plight, forcing her hands to fold on the table in front of her and directing her attention back to the primogen.

[dancrilis]

What was all she could think they are going to cut out his tongue, processing there words, cut out his tongue she had earlier suffered an injury and it was healed now ... was this fatal, permanent and would clan Ventrue act on the permission to destroy one of their own.

His speech - the elements she caught - made her lose some empathy for him, a criminal, and seemingly a violent one, intimately familiar with the age of consent, a family involved in murder ... still to be mutilated like this?

Well she could not help him, and trying to interfere would likely not end well for either of them.

Wait she heard the conversation return to her, so she could survive at least for tonight subject to the death of another, it sat poorly with her, but he was a murderer who had killed policemen along with monsters, and killed monsters who had committed no crime.

She took her knee with the grace she could manage but it was clear she was unsure about this, "I Danielle Leblanc", she moved to kiss his hand still unsure that this would not be the moment he would choose to twist her head off or preform some similar action , her lips met the skin gently and she moved back "swear not to make people aware of the existence of vam ... the kindred through action of inaction, not to knowingly intrude on the territory of another without permission" how she was to know was somewhat unclear "not to create any additional kindred" she probably was meant to say without permission, but she had no intention either way, "to take full responsibility should I through error breach the third tradition" somewhat pointless for her but she supposed mistakes could in theory happen - she would have to follow up with someone Al maybe, to ensure that she knew now to avoid these potential mistakes "to follow the laws according to my words here tonight, and to inform any kindred I do not know to report to the appropriate authority for presentation to yourself" how she was expected to know who was allowed and who wasn't was somewhat beyond her, "and not to cause the destruction of another of our kind", she was tempted to stop their but this time continued "without approval", pausing "I swear this in the knowledge that failure to adhere will result in my death, and that regardless of adherence my continued life is subject to Jackal the Ninebladed being put beyond the ability to harm any individual", she did not swear to murder him but in truth she could think of no alternative method of securing her pledge.

Without standing she looked at the prince to see if he was satisfied with this pledge of if he would expect more.

[daelrog]

Jean chuckled approvingly at Danielle. "You are right Al, she is a smart one, and she ha French blood as well. If I had known that, I may have allowed your plan to go for free." He clapped his hands twice again. "I declare this room now Elysium, hand your knife to a servant Flat Face.

Flat Face did so.

"Claver bastard." Quenton muttered.

The Primogen stood up, and moved to mingle with the others.

We skipped ahead of you a bit, Worlok, sorry about that.:smallredface: I figure one post will have you caught up. Player characters have first dibs on who to talk to, I'll let conversations move around who they go to first.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
At the Prince's declaration of Elysium (yet another thing to ask Josef about), Erica's first thought was to speak with the private investigator, but she spared a glance to her sire first. If he desired her presence for something related to Faruq's outburst...

Deciding it would be rude to leave the table without speaking, she introduced herself.

"I'm Erica Lee," she said, turning away from the front of the room, "nice to meet you."
She put on her best smile and looked the stranger (Iris) in the eye. If Josef wanted her, he could pick her up on his way past.

If Al Rowe has returned to the table, she will introduce herself to him as well.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick watches in awestruck horror, (but also, if he is being honest, a bit of fascination) as Faruq's tongue is cut out. He finds himself flicking his own back and forth for the next several minutes, as if to prove it's still there.

Hearing the Prince declare the room open, as it were, Rick considers his options. He'd like to talk to a few of the other newcomers. It might be nice to form some friendships now. It could help down the road. For now though, he turns to Quenton.

"So, would this be a good time to introduce myself to Henry? He's our... superior?" He tries to hide it, but his tone carries a hint of disbelief at that fact.

[Strawberries]

Amy is still on her feet, still staring ahead. To tell the truth, she's probably a little shell-shocked. She wants to go where Faruq is, to help the man up, but in all honesty, in this moment she doesn't know if it'll make things better or worse. The other girl, Erica, is of his clan, does that mean that she should stay away and let the...Ventrue deal with their own? She still doesn't know how these damned things work.

She finally turns around, slowly, to look at Mike. "I had some questions for you" she says, flatly. "You tell me when it is a good time to ask without having my tongue cut out." There's dull rage in the sentence, just below the surface.

[dancrilis]

Her mind racing a mile a minute, she wasn't dead nor would she die tonight - baring something unexpected and what are the chances of that she thought bitterly, still she would take her chance at life.

She nodded her thanks to the prince her voice low "Thank you sir", she stated in French her accent that of her mother's and spoken as someone who had learned it from a very young age, if the man missed his home and still found comfort in its thought she could at least be polite about it.

She turned to Al and returned to English, "and thank you for standing for me, I hope I haven't caused you any real difficulty", pausing while she considered whether to mention it "I am sorry for your loss", she knew that the words were nearly always meaningless to the person that heard them so soon after the loss, but then still needed to be said both to acknowledge the loss and to allow the other person to know that other people cared. She swiftly moved on "If you have time I would like to clarify some points on not intruding on others territories, and how to avoid making more vampires but I understand if you are busy ... but right now I would like to call my mother and make sure she is not panicking about me, would it be possible to ask someone if I could use a phone in private, please", hopefully her mother had not done something that would cause her issue, and she would be able to come up with a solid reason for some lifestyle changes.

[daelrog]

New houserule. Usually I don't see the need to have the character's name bolded at the top of the post, but I think it's useful right now considering we're all in the same room, but not necessarily talking to each other. Therefore, I'll use it to help make it clear who's hearing what.

Danielle

Al shook her head. "It's all right. No one hates me who didn't already, and the book was trivial. It's not important." When Danielle mentions the loss, Al gets an insightful look on her face. "Brett was a good man, bit of a cavalier. You get used to death. Sadly our kind isn't very long lived most of the time, and recent years have seen more and more of us fall. You get used it. I'm sorry though Danielle, I'm not going to be the one to show you how things work. That's one of the concessions made to keep you alive. And yes Danielle, your heart may no longer beat, but you're still alive. If you'd excuse me." She left Danielle where she was standing, walking towards Erica and Iris.

Erica

The woman smiles back. "Iris of Clan Toreador. Just Iris."

Al appraoched the table, catching the gist that introductions were being made. She looks tired. "Al Rowe, Clan Toreador, Sheriff." She extends her hair for a firm grip.

Rick

Quenton shakes his head. No, save that for tomorrow night. He's busy playing politics with the other elders. I know he may not look it, but he's the second oldest kindred in the city, only Jean's got him beat. That's an issue that arises for kindred. You can having newbies embraced in their elder years, and elders embraced as children. From what I've been told, most of the ancients, those kindred you never want to meet, the kind the Havensworth's too small to even bother, tend to be on the young side. Don't worry, I still confused sometimes."

He shakes his head. "I wouldn't talk to him just yet. He's still a little annoyed I picked you. That, and the old ones live for these gatherings. Those of us who aren't over a century like to just hang out, catch up on things, and maybe slip away for a little midnight romance, right Melanie?" The Ventrue offered a shallow, forced smile to at least acknowledge the remark. "But the elders, they've been plotting to get an upper hand on one another since they first came to the city. Watch yourself cause they'll snatch you up in their games. Best just nod your head, say yessir, and then just laugh it off."

Amy

Mike motioned with his hands for Amy to calm. "Yeah, that was pretty bad. Let's wait 'til after the party to talk about it though. Hell, Jean might even talk to you about it himself. Let's keep the questions simple for now." Mike was starting to show a little strength again.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
She stood up and returned the handshake like so many others she'd done over her short career, firm but not vise-like.

"Nice to meet you both," she replied.

"I'll do my best to learn the ropes quickly Mr. Rowe, I just want to stay out of trouble," she said, swallowing and nodding her head towards Faruq, "Are there any minor rules or.. customs I should watch out for?"

She glanced between the two Torreadors, addressing her question as much to Iris as much as the Sheriff.

Keep it together, act normal, just a few smiles, a few meet and greets, then you're outta here and THEN you can lose your head. Crap, I have to call my boss tomorrow and tell him I can't work... will I even be awake in the morning, or do I need to sleep in a coffin? Crap! Just smile.. SMILE!

[Strawberries]

Amy

"Pretty bad. Understatement of the century, Mike." She shakes her head and passes an hand through her hair in what once was for her an automatic gesture...only to encounter the strange bumps and the bald patches of her new face. She grimaces. She had almost forgot. It's not a big deal she tells herself, firmly After everything I've seen tonight, a little hair-loss is the least of my problem. It's not like I was going to run for any pageant anyway.

"I'll wait till after the... party for everything, then." By the way she says party, it's very clear what she thinks of it. "I don't think I have a single simple question." She may as well try to use the occasion at least talk with some of the other new kindreds. Danielle,for instance. Or check on Faruq, if it seems doable without doing any other damage to the poor guy. Actually, she remembers she has a simple question. It's become a lot more less important, after everything that happened, but Amy has always been a curious girl, so despite everything, she finds herself asking. "Except...who the hell are those idiots? The ones who were laughing,before.."

[daelrog]

Erica

"No, not really. Unless you start working with kindred who don't belong to the Camarilla, then it can become complicated. You're in good hands with Josef, eh'll be sure to let you know." Al turned to Iris. "I'll be leaving early tonight I think. I'd prefer to leave before Sean gets the idea to approach me. I'm simply not up for it now."

"Of course, love." The two shared a kiss on the cheek. The way Iris said love was more of an expression, the way artists and other more expressive types used the word.

Al made a beeline for the back door.

Iris returned her look to Erica. "So you are the childer of Josef? No dobut you must be talented. I know he's looking to rebuild his company."

Amy

Mike grimaces. "The harpies. Every city has them. They're the kindred who generally rule Elysium, the neutral ground. They exist to praise and make fools of other kindred, and they can do it too."

Slick chipped in. "Yeah, the Toreador in the city are split in two cliques. There's the "Iris Faction" with Al and... well Iris. Then there's the "Rose Faction" with Sean and his three harpies. You see, Sean has a tattoo under his left nipple. It's a rose and-"

"Slick, we don't need to talk about Sean's tattoos. So yeah, that's the sum of it. Since we're really not supposed to kill each other, and it's really hard, most kindred settling their differences through proxies or with social conflict. The harpies happen to be the best with the latter."

[dancrilis]

Danielle

Danielle nodded after Al as a goodbye, then looked around the room, regardless of the outcome of the trial she was still the lowest of the low as Donovan had said, considering them she looked around for them too and nodded to them in thanks if she saw them, she might not have followed the advise exactly but it seemed fair as given.

Having done that she avoided eye contact with the others, no point in attracting unwanted attention whoever was to show her the ropes would likely find her, she proceeded over to the bodies to get a good look ... see if she knew them, and try to figure out if they were related, pausing on the walk only on consideration to nod to Amy and Claire in gratitude for the partial encouragement earlier.

She studied the bodies for a while wondering who they were and who their families were ... her anger from earlier changing to sorrow at the situation.

She turned to the seeming servants nearby, including the small child - who she ignored - making eye contact "Excuse me would there be a telephone I could use in private nearby please?".

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica nods.
"Potential unfulfilled is meaningless, so I guess we'll see how it goes," Erica replies. She glances around the room, purposefully avoiding the hanging corpses.
"Even with everything that's happened, it's still kind of hard to believe... I keep expecting to wake up drenched in sweat..." she says, "Err, wait, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but how long ago was your... first presentation?"

[daelrog]

Danielle

The servant, yet another plain faced man with a shaved head nodded. It seemed like he either couldn't talk, or had strict orders not to. He led her out of the room, and through the hall to another, small room.

There was bed, a small table, and a phone in it. He gestured towards the phone, and departed.

Erica

Iris rolled her eyes. "It took forver. I was embraced in Toulese, France. The Prince there was an old one, thought everythign had to be a certain way. I had to recite the traditions word for word... in Latin. Then I had to show him my talent in five styles of art. Unlike you, it was just me." She smiled. It was beautiful save for the sharpness of her fangs. They weren't extended, but it was still noticeable. "But that was over fifty years ago." She looked around. "I don't think this gathering will last long. Tensions are high, and I think most kindred are going to do some serious thinking before they act. Think about what they'll do with six new kindred."

[Strawberries]

Amy

Sean. "Sean, that ugly-as-sin lard-bladder that was at the table before? The one that was looking at Al Rowe like he had some sort of fun secret? No, we definitely don't need to talk about Sean's tattoos". But she finds herself warming to Slick and his blabbering. It's comforting, in a way. She realises what she has just said and amends "And that's coming from me, now, so when I say ugly-as-sin, I know what I'm talking about." Hell, Mike is cuter. Slick is cuter, too, probably, in a way...not that she remembers Slick's true face very well. She was too occupied to do her best not to scream, or faint, or both togheter. Which reminds her. "Uhm, Slick, can I ask you a personal question?"

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica smiled.

Fifty years, that means it was before World War II.

"Yeah, it's been a really long day, and night," she said, taking the hint, "hopefully we'll meet again soon."

Long day? More like last day. You will never see the sun again.

Erica smiled, then looked around for Josef Kirsch.

I've got to get out of here.

[dancrilis]

"Thank you" she called after the servant, ok it's a phone call, I can do this, she played the scenario over in her head, hi mom, ..., she found she had nothing to say, pick it up and wing it, that might be best she determined as she reached for the phone unless I blurt out something stupid and get her killed her hand froze at the thought.

Speaking out load to the empty room slipping to French as she did normally speak to her mother, "Hi ... no I'm fine, sorry I got invited to a party ... yes I get invited to parties at times ... yes I have some friends ... yes with they are involved in missing person issues ... yes they are older ... don't worry so much ... listen I have got to go ... love you too" returning to English "yes that will work if she asks exactly the right questions without me having to lie once" she muttered.

Picking up the phone she dialled her number while checking the time, on anything available ... I should have brought my watch she thought bitterly please don't have panicked and called the police mom, please.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Rick raises an eyebrow. "Annoyed you picked me? Was he hoping for another?" He studies the child briefly. Seeing him interact with the others, it was not hard to believe he was so ancient.

Imagine being forced into this as a kid. Seems to have done well for himself though.

[Worlok]

I could go on now to detail exactly what went through Faruq's head, yet to fill sixteen lines or more with the most devastating Arabic insults and curses on this good Earth would hardly be cool at all. What I can, however, put down for the record is that he was not, in fact, amused.

How is that... Oh, goddamnit, Goblin. You really don't care just how stupid you look, now, do you? he thought as Flat-Face barreled down on him, there apparently being no chance to leap to the side, dodge, run, anything.

And you, with your whack-ass knife, you are no real threat! he thought as the big Nosferatu got him, lifting him up, somehow securing him enough to cut the tongue, forcing his mouth open and inserting his blade.

And that's just physically impossible, you'd need like four arms to do all of that simultaneously! he thought as the steel slipped in, tearing dead flesh and muscle and drawing blood.

And also, you goddamn jackasses really don't have no idea about ensuring loyalty. he thought as that very same blood began to fill his mouth, his lips having defiantly closed shut around the steel to show as little cooperation as possible.

And how am I even still feeling pain? I'm friggin' dead right now. he thought, as the pain grew to harsh for thinking, and still he found he could suffer both. The Old Goblin was talking again, ranting. Had called him a clown.

On the other hand, I can also still produce spittle, so there is that. He had, in fact, spit on the carpet, hadn't he? Yes he had. And he had some degree of mastery over aiming that. His mouth was watering, bloodied still, and something about that appealed to him.

I know like exactly one worda French, and that's sans-cu-lotte. Without pants. For the briefest of instants, he figured he might as well try to wrestle a hand free, open his fly, and die with his manhood firmly in hand like a dearly defiant boss. Defiance. Boss-like defiance to the last.

But this is mainly the pain talking, isn't it? I don't need air anymore, do I, now? Still, he wanted to breathe, catch his airs, still his very essence fought the circumstances for control. Yet breathing meant - RAH! And there went his tongue, the nerves now severed and the piece coming lose as a whole.

It means swallowing first, cleaning the mouth. Fingers, horrible, vaguely claw-like goblin fingers slipped in between his yielding lips, claiming their prey as he raved and bled. He swallowed, then. Swallowed vampire blood. So I better swallow, they're cutting my tongue out. I won't bleed to death. I just won't be able to talk. A mouthful of it, the well-clutched tongue sliding out from between his teeth in the hand of Flat-Face and thus not subject to his aching gulp, went down, down his throat, down his whole, vampiric digestive tract.

And it... tastes... so... good? Yes. Yes, it did taste good. Better than blood that was willingly given. Better, he reckoned, then even blood of Celts would have. It was his own blood, though. Lion-blooded. And Afghan-blooded. And blood of the Ferret and Scot.

Yet other than that of chill people, this did not seem to sate his hunger, and still he desired more.

Uncle Ahmad was there. He was watching. And he was him, Faruq. The words of the Prince still registering, this thought suddenly, and monolithically, took a hold, along with a whole mass of scenes and settings, imagined acts he now regretted not pulling off in time.

Paralysed with fear, again. Once again seeing things from blood-loss. That would be it.

There he was, Faruq al-Assad, dodging aside and letting Flat-Face flatten his face some more against the wall behind him.

Anger.

Then there he was, Faruq al-Assad, calmly, but swiftly, whirling around, bringing his elbow into the goblin's neck - no, back, the guy was taller.

And vengeance.

And then there was he, Faruq al-Assad, glaring at the vampiric assembly with murder in his eyes, seeing them back away from him, now in abject terror, deeply afraid of him.

And justice.

Teeth in a goblin neck, drawing its life-blood, unholy though an act it would appear to be.

And wrath.

Blood rushing down his throath, strengthening him unnourishedly, back in reality, in a goblin's arms.

Disjointed scenes of battle, of fights by night, of strange buildings burning and faces contorted in rage and pain flared up before his mind then, tried to yank him away, away from this reality of losing into blessed and defensive fantasy. Impressions, ideas, notions and thoughts connecting, begetting perverse and fantastic types of sense. Chants and prayers and curses and cries in all manner of languages, tongues...

Ahmad al-Assad standing triumphant over a somewhat younger, now somehow plate-armored Josef Kirsch, predators locking gazes, his uncle moving with breath-taking grace and speed, and in perfect silence, to bring his curved blade down upon the German's face...

And tongues. Tongues and teeth littering the ground, and decorating the belts of the bold and victorioius.

Melanie Forrest, suspended in chains, somewhere far away beyond space and time, locked alone in a basement with him, teeth bared and rotting. Sans-cu-lotting. Coming closer, anger, anger and vengeance begetting lust. And gaping windows, roaring lions, flying suitcases piled all around.

Tongues. Worthless flesh, with it speech and clamor, leaving a million forced-open mouths, millions of Flat-Faces, Jean du Noirs, and other goblins fleeing in herds, in masses, and rushing into sewers as Arabic vampires looking a lot like him gave chase.

A line of people on camels, only the one in the middle wearing a cape, turning around, looking at him and like him and forward again in one fluent move, bearing a lance and shield. And in the distance, a line of men that looked a lot like Flockton, and then all alike, wearing black hats and red coats and leveling muskets at the advancing camel-riders.

Tongue was taken. There were only pain and blood to Faruq for a second, vampire blood, and a mortal pain. The plethora of images would not subside, however, appearing the very same instant they faded out again. All of this happening so fast, so decisively, without choice. Him drinking vampire blood.

Flags of Britain, of France, of America burning. Bearded men in blue robes with machine guns cheering and feeding the flames.

It regrows. The Old Goblin had said his tongue would regrow, and as the pain finally seemed to be dying, a short and disgusting scene played out before the Ferret's inner eye: Him regrowing his tongue, over and over, for Flat-Face to cut it out, but once to just swallow it with the blood, in order to prove his toughness, and then to just spit it out, for the dead meat to fly into Flat-Face' ear as the goblin turned, smiling for his picture.

Underage girls without a clan, and his new clanmate Erica Lee, lined up in a parade of asses, next to them herds of camels, and he, Faruq, walking among them, dressed like a king.

A camera. Thousands of scenes rushing past him, faces and battles and monsters and camels and flags, and tongues, and all of them so very fleeting. The camera would immortalise. Would immortalise this here picture. Should he perhaps just spit? He still produced saliva. He could just spit, aim for Flat-Face' ear, make the guy cut a grimace and drop his cool, and die content that he'd given just about as many...

Churches and towers and citadels burning and crumbling, something of moving shadows and something of sapient blood circling what would appear to be a man with claws and bright, yellow eyes, sires and childer and mortals and fat men all dying in thrashing droves.

No. He would not give them the satisfaction. He had his pride. Not a monkey or dog or camel, but still a lion, as he had said. He was Faruq. Faruq ibn Khaled ibn Mohammed al-Assad. He Who Discerns Truth from Falsehood, son of the All-Enduring, son of the Praiseworthy One of the Blood of the Lion. And mad. Mad like Ahmad al-Assad. Perhaps this just was it, though? His sanity taking its leave, having lasted til here and through all this madness, only to now keel over and allowing depravity to envelop him, carry him off into sleep, so that he would wake up tomorrow and find it all a bad dream? Perhaps. Yet he could not rely on it, and at any rate, the pain had gone. It had allowed for the final distraction. Defiance. You won't crack me that easy, oh no you won't.

And a statue in grey future Edinburgh, office-workers with tusks and then he, himself, smiling and wearing a coat and lifting a suitcase over his head.

It thus came to be that two vampires smiled for their picture, Faruq, still imagining trippy scenes and his impending vengeance, eyeing Flat-Face' ear with barely-conceiled hunger, hunger, wrath, and rage, and grinning, widely and nastily, to match the Flat-Faced One's visage. Ready 'n' waitin'. Grappling now. Could just reach up and tear it off. And his fangs came down, and he somehow enjoyed having asked for that refill, and something inside him kept screaming Divide the herd!...

But no! Too obvious, too sudden. Not enough of a chance. This is a lesson. You promised yourself you'd play along. You can do this, buddy. Magic bullets. Four of them. No rationally explaining. They've made themselves clear, and so should you.

... if only for the next instant to find the pain gone, vanquished, Faruq being left out of Flat-Face' lock, catching his attitude on the rebound and shakily rising, somehow assured in a sense of accomplishment. Blood is shed. He swallowed again, spitting his remnant saliva out onto the floor. Then they won't kill the clan-less. Perhaps I won again? No. This was not his triumph. He had just been a distraction. The trial had unfolded without him, and gone on, and somewhere, a servant took the damn goblin's knife, and that seemed to be the end of the official part of the evening.

Time to regrow my tongue, I guess. He said that would be ill-advised. Old wanker. See what I think of you. I need a smoke, and a cape, and some damn respect.

And with that, Faruq finally found himself standing. Looking around. Registering people looking at him, some worried, some almost sympathetic. The clanless one on the phone. People mingling. Confounded, confuddled, confused, alone. He'd picked his battles, he'd picked a fight, yet he had not won. But he had drawn even. He was alive. For now.

Now to secure me a drink, and find out what that nonsense there with the hanging corpses is all about, and then to dust off, become one of them, and take in my glory.

Thusly aware of his still unbroken kind-of-aliveness, he tried to bring his left hand up to the level of his chest, seeing how Flatty wasn't looking at him currently, throwing the victory sign as he did so, carefully, but enjoying the fact that it had also meant "Screw you!" since Britons first, at heaven's command...

Oh holy crap, I'm probably messed up worse than I thought I was. Still, I'm still holding up, and fine.

And at long last, now speechless, Faruq truly bowed to Jean. Dusted himself off. And made as if to approach a servant, and maybe to step out in order to simply regrow his tongue. And wink at Claire, Erica, Danielle, and the goblin one, and any other (supposed) girls in attendance the entire way, smirking and leering in the obnoxious, dulled-to-pain exhilaration of his battered, beaten after-battle calm. Could he do sign-language? He would find out. For now, he'd just play it cool. Not let it get to him.

Still though. I haven't lost. Still not impressed? Too bad.

And learn to play along.

I proudly present "Being the spawn of an Assamite ghoul family" feat. "Why won't the kid just frenzy?" with their number-one-hit: "Rampaging insanity". Apologies for it's disjointedness, other than Faruq himself, I had opportunity to get fully... in-character tonight. :smallwink:

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire let out a sigh as the by evidence the serious events of the evening were done. Could they leave yet? Rogan seemed wrapped up with his fellow elders, so evidently not. She supposed she should make some attempt to socialize. If before had demanded silence, now keeping to herself could be just as bad. She could be seeing those in this room for a long long time.

Claire rose to make her way around the room. She avoided Faruq and Danielle. She had no wish to give that idiot the time of day, and speaking to the teen would perhaps be inappropriate at the moment given Rogan's role in events. She did need to find out more about that hunter though. Perhaps one of the other vampires in the room would be discussing it.

Or maybe she should speak some others of her presumable peers. At least some of her fellow fledglings seemed to have something resembling good sense, she hadn't spoken much to any of them but that would work too. She should speak with Erica at some point about her sire, something was pulling at her mind about Josef Kirsch.

[daelrog]

Amy

Mike and Slick laughed with Amy in describing Sean. Slick shuffled a bit nerously in his chair when Amy asked him about a question she had. "Uh... sure, sure ask anything?"

Mike's attention moved to the room, his eyes taking note of who wasm ingling with who.

Erica and Claire

Josef was speaking amiably with Hayden Cross, the Brujah primogen. To an outsider, it looked like a handsome middle aged man flirting with a younger, attractie woman. A bit closer and it was two intellectuals testing each other's wits. And even closer...

Claire saw Rogan speaking to the Prince, he was not pleased with Jean's ruling, and Jean appeared to be explaining himself, though was not giing any ground to the Gangrel that towered over him.

As Erica approached Josef, she saw Claire standing in between her, and her sire.

Faruq

A servant nodded when Faruq asked for some blood. It took less than half a minute for him to return, this time with a larger glass. No doubt it took mroe than a little to regrow a tongue. No one impeded upon Faruq, but he saw that reactions were mixed. None were truly possible, but a few seemed curious.

Faruq could see the Byron was keeping a close eye on Faruq. Most likely the follower had been tasked to do so.

Rick

"You were number four, remember? I'm afraid to say that wasn't my number system, it was his." He gave a reassuring pat on Rick's shoulder. "As I said, he'll get over it before tomorrow night" He looked oer mischievously at Trent. "So Trent buddy, not that Brett's out of the way, you going to be Al's new fling?"

Trent muttered a few choice words and moved away from them. Quenton smiled and looked back to Rick. "No sense of humor, that one."

Danielle

Danielle's mother answered the phone. "Hello? Oh Danielle. How's the sleep over going?"

[Thundercracker]

Erica
She spied Josef speaking with the woman from the end of the table. Not wanting to immediately interrupt, Erica thought she would circle around a bit and see if she could catch Josef's eye, but then she noticed the quiet girl, Claire, also watching the same conversation. Erica stood indecisive for a few seconds, then moved next to Claire, standing side by side and giving her a sidelong glance and a small smile before turning her attention back to the two members of the primogen to at least attempt to hear what they were speaking about. After all, if they wanted to speak privately, this was not the place to do it, right?

[Strawberries]

Amy


Right. She gestures vaguely towards Slick's face "Uhm... why are you... you know, looking like this, now? It's not like you have to protect the Masquerade here."And it's not like you protected the masquerade when you had to, but she doesn't say the last part out loud. She doesn't know the circumstances in which that reporter was in the house. For all she knows, Slick may have had a good reason to be without his mask, and telling him may just mean be unfair towards him.

[daelrog]

Erica and Claire

Josef and Hayden were discussing the pace of mankind's progress. Josef mused, "Come now. Nothing is perpetual. Mankind will slow down in another ten to thirty years, their vaunted communication technology reaching its limit. I daresay we'll be short a few elders before the end of it though.

"Yes, no doubt as to that. But consider, there have been breakthroughs that have... had an unusual amount of apathy. It's as if there's even ore behind the curtain."

"There is always more behind the curtain. However, try not guess what it is too readily."

Amy

"Oh, that's it? Well, mostly cause I'm a little less unpleasant on the eyes this way. Don't get me wrong, most the time it's not worth the effort. However, most kindred care about appearances even more than the kine. First of all, looking healthy and beautiful makes hunting easier. Secondly... well our libido isn't really what it used to be, but our eyes still work the same. It's a courtesy, really."

[dancrilis]

Sleepover?, what sleepover?, the thought, catching herself before saying it, was her mother just making an assumption as to why she wasn't there, or had she actually made plans that she had forgotten about, or ... ?

Still it made a good excuse, so might as well run with it.

"Did ... did I mention the sleepover?", her tone somewhat confused and shaky.

'Erica and Danielle' should be 'Erica and Claire' right?

[Worlok]

Still so many thoughts, all over, and yet none of them seemed to be the one he had just been thinking.

Dang, mang, I hate dat happenin', ken? Like, one moment you's like mad rockin' sum genius up in yers, and den it's poof, like, gone. Anyhow. Did I jus' imagine myself sexing up ol' Melly? About to, at any rate? He had, and thusly shuddered - if but for the briefest of moments before regaining composure, of course. And what was it that gave her this odd prevalence in his thought processes, come to think of it? Even now? There were many things he'd yet have to find out about this new game before making his move and crushing the masters. My masters, something, a fragment of conversation, hard to place now for the sheer number of things that had occured in the mean, seemed to remind him now.

Ah, shut up, fake Maddie-man. You's jus' not real. I got my tongue cut out, an' still noone's the master of Faruq.

What a refreshing notion. He had endured again. Not won, as such, but endured, and as this turned out to have been the thought he'd been following just before, he came to enjoy the idea a little more: The mixed reactions, quizzical looks, general uncertain nature of the airs this gathering was suddenly projecting registered as attention to the Afghan-blooded Scot. And any attention was good attention. His sexy, sexy smile having its effect somewhat hampered by crusts of vampire blood surrounding and the known lack of flesh behind it, he nonetheless made to shower his audience in as much swag as possible - For, after all: I took -that- standin' up 'n' like a man, dere's finally some damn respect in here. Now we's talkin', see? All I was askin' for. Even if Byron staring at him all scary-like seemed to bode ill - Chill, like, not like a dude what's after a chick like he is would swing that way. - and the very presence of the guy seemed to just raise some guessing as to his identity - Like, Schmitty-boy a vampire, as well? - there had been more than just enough trouble for but one evening, he reckoned, anger spent and all.

Really, though: All things considered, Faruq was at ease with his lot in death by now: Vampire blood is fine. Or prolly my own? Like, some metaphysophical stuff 'bout how blood shed for what I stand up for is always, ad-hoc, given willin'ly? ... Quack. Mus' be the rush come chillin', I'm still seein' things - Still, gotta check dis out right soon. Wa'n't really all dat fillin', anyway. I wonder... Will smokes still relax me? I could use a bout a' steppin' out right now.

Funny. He had actually wanted a smoke to abridge a fifteen-minute-wait, and likely not too far a while ago. Now it had been a day and a night - or more, he guessed (Wait. I don't actually know how long I've been out.) and he found himself feeling the itch in a more metaphorical fashion, as if the initial hardship would not end with tongues being removed, or people being tortured, but with him finally lighting up, and if it would but be for auld lang syne.

I should definitely get that done. As the servant, having responded to his gesturing, returned with what amounted to a nice big fill, the Ferret responded by nodding his thanks, accepting the glass with a sweeping gesture, and casually, if greedily, emptying its contents into his mouth. How much it'll take me for the tongue, though? Way this works, it's all sorta in the blood. Speaking off... He waited, savoring the taste of the red liquid like he guessed he normally would have a self-made White Russian.

Nothing happened.

...Sure. No tongue, no taste-things, guess dat much still works.

With the hope that it would not be the kind of blood he had initially made clear he wouldn't take, he swallowed, half-expecting some sort of nasty surprise, and mentally steeling himself, much as earlier for pain and ridicule - With his most pressing sensation since his embrace having been his almighty rage, he put all possible effort into remaining calm, seeming relaxed, staying ineffable. It was how he had managed to rein himself in even when half-about to make a leap for Flat-Face' ear. By this point, he wasn't actually sure how to feel anymore. The high of accomplishment, the one of the pain wearing off, the one of having established himself, the one of not having pulled stupid moves - All of those seemed to be combining, and hitting in force.

He would learn. Listen, watch, calm, adapt, and rise. But for now, he would not puke, he would stop shaking, and he'd try to make like he had learned his lesson. Yes, he would.

No, actually.

He had. If maybe not the one they would have wanted him to learn...

So many thoughts, still, all over.

He swallowed blood.

[Dark Seeker]

"You mean, he was the one who was supposed to ultimately make the decision of whom to sire?" Rick cats another look at Henry. "I hope I haven't put you into to awkward a situation." He scratches the back of his head,feeling a new degree of gratitude towards Quenton. If nothing else, the man had stuck his neck out for him.

He noted Quenton's attitude towards Trent, but says nothing in response. It's not his place. However, he does note that Quenton seemed to be the type to enjoy antagonizing others.

"If you excuse me, I'm going to see what Chase is up to." He rises and heads off to locate her.

"So, this has been an interesting night. Though I wager it's become second nature to you by now." He says as he approaches.

[daelrog]

Faruq has enough blood to regrow his tongue (I imagine it will be very, very uncomfortable, but it doesn't hae any bones or anything so it shouldn't really be painful. At least, my logic on regrowing body parts dictate as such), and to replenish whatever he lost. Or he can have no tongue still and add one more to his blood pool.

And I will correct the heading above. Also dancrilis, if you want we can assume they're speaking French. I do not know French, and forum rules say to stick with English, so yeah.

Danielle

"Yes?" Her mother noted Danielle's tone. "You called me half an hour ago. I was worried sick. Is something wrong?"

Rick

Rick shrugged his shoulders. "To be kindred is to be uncomfortable. You get used to it."

Chase had been talking to a handsome, yet very polished young man, who now focused on Faruq. Chase didn't seem to want to chat to either the girl or the man wearing aviators. She smiled genuinely as Rick approached. "Welcome to the ghoul corner, Rick." She shakes her head at his comment. "No, some things you don't get used to. You learn to live with it." She smiles again. "Well, some of us lie with it. That's one thing i learned about the English language. It really does have an emphasis on life and a works-by-day, sleeps-by-night schedule."

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"Good to see you." Rick replies, remaining standing.

"I can see how you never get used to it. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to seeing a guy's tongue get cut out. The Kindred take their meetings very seriously. Though I suppose when one can grow their tongue back, it's not as severe a punishment as it would be to humans."

"In any case, I wanted to check in with you. Sorry about snapping at you earlier tonight. Things were fairly stressful, to say the least. But you and Quenton seem like pretty good folks. Looking around, I suspect I could have done worse." He smiled, though his tone indicated he was at least being partly serious.

[dancrilis]

Yea we can pretend it is French, I don't speak any of the languages I gave her (baring English), and google translate would just be annoying - even if we could use it on the forum.

Half an hour? before the trial but likely after getting to the building, had she still been human she would have been in a cold sweat, she had not mentioned her mother and only listed her surname to the prince recently. Al had not apparently known who she was and Billy was dead ... who had called?

Ok how to handle this "No mom, I am ... ok. Just wanted to be sure you were not worried, can you fill me in on the call we had" ... she had to assume that the call was rushed ... "bit rushed the last time, but don't want to be repeating myself" her voice light and easy, but her body was tensed like a coil, her left hand in a fist placed firmly on the table beside the phone as she stood holding the handle in her right as she spoke.

[Strawberries]

Amy

"Oh, I see. Thank you for answering" So apparently it's not that big a deal for Slick. Mike had made it sound as if it was. Amy can't say she agrees with Slick's assessment, but she can sort of see the logic. She smiles to him, then follows Mike's example, moving her eyes across the room to see who's speaking with who.

She notices Faruq has been left alone, but he is standing, and drinking blood, so perhaps it wasn't so bad as if he had been merely human. "I suppose the point of all this is for us to go around and speak with the other... clans, right? I should probably do that". She has half a mind of standing up and go introducing herself to the laughing jackals from before. Bullies are best confronted as soon as possible and face-to-face. At least, that's what she learned in highschool. "Uhm... Who is the child with the doll? And what's the deal with the staring guy?" There's one thing she has to hand to vampires: they know how to pull off 'creepy' well enough.

Could I please have a description of where everyone in the room is standing and who is talking to whom? I lost myself a bit in the previous post and some kindreds aren't mentioned. Also, as usual, she'll put that high perception of hers to use :smallwink:

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica opened her mouth to speak, and was about to take a step forward when she checked herself. It wouldn't be good to contradict her new boss in front of outsiders, regardless of how wrong she thought he might be. Such words were better spoken in private; for all she knew, Josef might be seeding misinformation.

She settled for getting a good look at the Brujah primogen, and if eye contact is made, Erica will introduce herself, otherwise she will stay silent and let the elders speak.

[daelrog]

Bah! Now I have to figure out where NPCs have gone. Very well...

All
There seems to be several groups that have formed. At the head table Rogan is still debating with the Prince. At the end Cassidy is fiddling with a crumpled piece of paper. It's white with red stains on it.

Josef and Hayden are discussing something in depth, each holding their glasses as if it was wine. One of the harpies, the man is hovering near them, but is intent to blabber away at a servant who is not speaking back.

Quenton and Melanie are chatting at their table, joined by the short haired harpy.

Sean and his last harpy are with Henry, the boy-Primogen. Sean is smiling and doing most of the talking as Henry is walking.

Trent is with Iris, but neither are talking much.

Al has left the party already. Flat Face left the room, following Danielle. Donovon disappeared, Amy, nor anyone else noticed when or in what direction.

The four ghouls, the little girl, aging man who appeared as a grifter, the south-Asian young woman, and the slick looking man in a suit and tie are in the back.

Erica
Hayden seems to be paying no heed to Erica, though it is almost certain that Erica's presence has been felt. It's been less than half a minute, but still no immediate reaction is a bit less than polite.

Danielle
"Danielle, is everything all right? We talked for five minutes. You're at Dianne's house. I didn't know the two of you trained together." Dianne Gurwitz was a teammate of Danielle's on the junior varsity squad and a Sophomore.

It was then Danielle noticed Flat Face leaning against the door. He had a pair of tweazers, cleaning the blood from under his fingernails. It was clear the monster had no interest in interrupting Danielle's conversation.

Rick
Chase smiled back, raishing again, though this one more humble, which seemed to glow all the mroe because of it. "No worries, Rick. Most kindred try to avoid Harry. He has a deal with the kindred. He helps coer our tracks sometimes, and we sometimes help make his life a bit easier. He likes to push to envelope sometimes... all the time." She looked over to Faruq. "Not sure what to say about the guy over there. Not eeryone handles the embrace well. Truth be told, those might be the sane ones. I'd give him some space and time to cool down. If he doesn't, Cassidy will find him. Whatever you do Rick, avoid Cassidy, and avoid those two." She gestured to the two ghouls who were not Byron.

Amy
Slick looked frightened and Mike ill at ease. "Best stay away from Cassidy, Evaz. They meant it when they said his job was to cull the herd when needs be. Each clan has their curse, well except for the Tremere, but that's up for the debate. Rogan's eyes, our appearance are the obvious ones. Throw up a true work of art in front of one of the Toreador and they'll stop in their tracks in a dead stupor. Cassidy's clan? Each one of them to the last is insane. Schizophrenia, obsessive compulsive, anything, you name it. There's more than a few screws missing in that one.

"That little girl and the guy, the one with the sunglasses? Those two are his ghouls. A ghoul is a person who drinks the blood of a kindred at least once or twice a month. They get some of the perks, but not all. However, they're still alive. Best servants a kindred can get. That little girl is older than you I think. Cassidy didn't come to the city until ten years ago, but the girl was with him."

[Thundercracker]

Erica
If Josef Kirsch deemed his conversation more important than introducing her, then so be it. Erica was well aware she once again found herself at the bottom of the totem pole and might not receive immediate attention from her superiors. The situation was not unlike her early career in an industry dominated by white men. She quickly fell back to her instincts, continuing to passively follow the conversation between her sire and Hayden, and, remembering Donovan's advice, scanned the room and the disparate groups. She attempted to distract herself from the trembling feeling in her chest by guessing what was going on..

Hayden Cross looks like one of the most well put-together people..Kindred here, and she sounds like she knows about current trends in technology; too bad she's disagreeing with Kirsch right at this moment.

She chanced a glance over her shoulder.

Rogan thought it was a sure thing, but he lost... he's appealing after the fact, trying to work over the judges..I mean Jean (it's not debate team Erica!) so he'll favor him next time around.

Melanie seems pretty popular..should I go talk to her? No, there'll be plenty of time for that later..I'll have to ask her about those two as well.

Iris is still here, thought she wanted to leave..maybe she just wanted to get rid of me..then again maybe she's just being polite., not saying too much, probably bored.

Rick looks like he's getting some pointers, good for him.

The boy seems serious, and he's at the head table..probably a lot tougher than he looks..he's practically ignoring Loveless...is he even listening at all? ...wonder if he got the gold teeth before or after..., looks like an Oreo from Harlem, I swear I will never-
Damn, don't look at the bodies!

Erica shuddered as she caught sight of the corpses, then quickly smiled at Byron before shifting her gaze again and realized she'd run out of groups to observe. Deciding to be slightly more proactive, she moved to Kirsh's flank, standing slightly behind her sire so as not to intrude on the conversation directly, and looked for Faruq.
If anyone can distract me...


assuming sean loveless is caucasian, let me know if that's not the case?

[Strawberries]

Amy

"What, really? That's messed up." No, this is the understatement of the century she thinks as soon as she has said the words. And she's not even sure if she meant the madness business, the little girl business or the whole ghoul business. All of the above, if she really has to choose. "And I've got no intention to go bothering him, he gives me the creeps." And yet another understatement. I'm picking up bad habits from Mike, apparently.

She sighs, and stands up "Erm... if I'm supposed to mingle and save the questions for after the party, I guess I'd better go, right? Is any of you coming?" Some things don't ever change, not even after one's dead. Mingling, making small talk, introducing herself... that's a part she hates.

[Dark Seeker]

"Yeah, well can't say I'm too fond of Harry." Rick replied bitterly. "We used to work together on the force. I know his type. Bit overzealous and obsessed with lording his power over everybody else. Still, apparently he gets the job done, since I had no inkling any of this existed until a few hours ago.'

He nods at Chase's advice. To be honest, Cassidy unsettled him, and evidently he was far from isolated in those feelings. Man looked as though he could go berserk at any second.

Clearing his throat(a habit he keeps now even in death) Rick changed the subject. "So... think you'll ever become like us? Or is that forbidden or something?'

[dancrilis]

Five minutes, someone fooled my mother for five minutes and knew enough about my life to make up a convincing story, she would have swallowed but her mouth was dry, "No mom, I am alright just had a rough night and am a bit shook up" who was it Al, Iris someone else ... Billy knew who she was ... he could have set something up ... or maybe he had survived somehow, "listen mom I have got some stuff to take care of, sorry I worried you, I might not be home for a bit ... maybe a few days ... I have life choices to make type of stuff, I will tell you about it when I can" her voice was near breaking she couldn't help it ... "I love you mom, be safe", she wanted to wait to hear a reply to put her mother at ease but she couldn't and seeing the monster at the door, she simply hung up.

She switched to English and looked at the creature - no the man - it was not his fault, "Can you tell me who phoned my mother half an hour ago please?", despite the words her tone was emotionless and hollow.

[daelrog]

Danielle

"Oh? Done talking to mother already? It's a simple order of business really. Al sent a page to Jean about what she knew about you. What you looked like, your name. Cross referenced it with Billy's high school and found a match. Had one of the harpies, those pleasant little hyenas back at the party, make the call. Don't get me wrong, wasn't like she probably did a good impersonation of you, just good enough the dear old mommy did the rest with her imagination. You see, when all you have is a distorted voice, makes it really easy to believe what you want."

He moves his weight off the door, and stands up. "So, don't want to go back home tonight? Guess that means you'll be staying with us then."

Rick

Chase shook her head. "I told you, Rick. I don't want to be kindred. Sure, there's some adantages to it, but it's not what I want." Rick could see it was a bit personal for Chase to talk about. She changed the subject. "I can see both Trent and Henry are about to leave. You can stay as long as you like, well, at least until an hour before sundown."

Amy

Mike didn't catch her hint at wanting company. "That's fine if you want. Think we'll just sit back and watch."

Erica

Hayden offered Erica a brief smile, and Kirsch a slight nod. Their conversation changed immediately. "Tell me Hayden, how long has it been since a new song has inspired, truely inspired." It was then Erica realized that it was not what Josef was asking. He was speaking in code, his eyes did not match his words. Though what we the real question she did not know.

"Four. And you Josef?"

"Three."

"I see. I wonder what song it was." She turned to Erica. "It was a pleasure seeing you introduced, Erica Lee." She nodded and departed from them.

Josef looked at Erica, a slight hint of pride in his eyes. "This night is beginning to grow tiresome, do you wish to retire. For tonight, you'll stay in the living quarters in the building. Tomorrow we can discuss a potential new residence for you."

[Soras Teva Gee]

Wandering about the room it seemed Claire had missed her chance to engage in any of the conversations. That would teach her to be indecisive, her father used to say chase two rabbits and both would escape you. Not that she ever thought he'd ever chased a rabbit, for that matter she knew it wasn't true for her papa's own line of work. Not that it mattered too much

At least she hadn't made a fool of herself though like some here. You had to open your mouth to put a foot in it. And wandering about should at least put off anyone thinking she was keeping to herself. Still Claire found herself standing close to Josef and Erica just as it seemed they were wrapping things up. Well finding out more about Kirsch would have to wait it seemed.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Seeing it was a testy subject, he backs off. "Forgive me. I just assumed... never mind."

"I think I'll leave with the rest of the clan. I want to learn a little more about how all of this works. Besides, I have to start ingratiating myself early, right?" He replies with a smile, intent on lightening the mood.

[Strawberries]

Amy

Amy chuckles without much humor. "It's not that I want to, believe me". She just thinks it's probably for the best "Alright, then. Uhm... please don't leave without me?" She still has plenty of questions to ask. She just doesn't think this is the right time.

She looks for a moment around the room, uncertain, then she approaches Nick and the woman he's talking to. Mike had said she is one of the ghouls. Amy must admit she's a bit curious. "Good evening", she says, trying for a polite smile. Hard to do, with the conformation her jaw has now and all the fangs she wound up having, but she hopes she's still able to convey 'friendlyness' well enough.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
She returned the smile just as briefly then turned to Josef.

"Yes, I'm ready to go," Erica replied, "I guess the hotel room won't be a good place to spend the day..."

"Do we need to collect Melanie and Faruq?" she asked, a hint of anxiety in her voice.

Keep it together, write down your questions so you don't forget. Ask him later when you can actually think straight.

She dipped a hand into her purse and fingered the day planner there, its familiar ridges at least temporarily comforting.

[dancrilis]

Danielle

She looked him flat in the eyes, which one made the call, the thought in her head left unspoken ... what had happened after all was what she wanted to happen to protect her mother ... but this felt wrong.

"I should have lied about my name" she stated looking at him, she nodded her head in a slight amount of thanks, "thank you for letting me know", Al on the other hand had not let her know despite knowing that she would be contacting her mother ... or maybe she had not known ... or this creature was lying ... or ... her thought turned into a scream of rage, this was infuriating.

Trust no one.

She flexed a few times to release some tension, and walked over to the man looking at him the whole time "Danielle, which you presumable knew, apologies I am not great with names and despite yours being mentioned I have not remembered it" she extended her hand, "but it is nice to meet you Mr ... ", she left the invitation for him to introduce himself.

[daelrog]

Rick and Amy

Chase nodded to Rick's decision to leave soon. Amy approached before anything more could be said on the matter. "Good evening." Chase gave a proper greeting back. It was one of the more pleasant reactions Amy had received tonight, though the the woman was acting a bit too cordial. Clearly being a ghoul put one below a kindred.

Erica and Claire

"I think not." Josef thought through the question. "Melanie will no doubt find her way to her own house, and Byron will ensure that Faruq isn't wandering the streets when the sun comes up. Let us be off then. No doubt you have many questions. Save them. You have enough to think through tonight, and I will be at your disposal tomorrow. Does that give you the gossip you want Matthew?"

His voice raised with the last sentence. The male harpy, the handsome one, chuckled. "Oh Sir Josef, you say it as if I was trying to hide my intent. Yes, the kindred community will all know that Miss Erica Lee will get a proper, and wise mentoring." The Toreador excused himself to move where Sean was still pestering Harry.

Josef and Erica headed for the door.

Danielle

"Flat Face." His hand was rough and calloused. "And I've been asked to show you the ropes. You know, make sure you don't get yourself killed or accidently show the world what you really are. So since you don't want to say with the family, looks like you got your choice between the Noseratu Flats, or whatever random storage shed we find on the way."

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"Good eve...ning." Rick's voice falls a little as he turns to greet Amy, but he recovers quickly.

Not like she can help it.

"Amy, right? Hell of a night, eh?"

[Strawberries]

Amy

Amy chuckles. She is not bothered by Rick's reaction. Hell, she would have flinched, if she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "You can say that again. And yes, it's Amy." She smiles to the ghoul in front of her. "I don't think I've been told your name. It's nice to meet you, Miss...?"

She assesses Rick with a gaze "So, you weren't out for a romantic date, tonight, I take it? I wonder why all of us now, and all togheter. It doesn't seem like it's a common thing."

[dancrilis]

Danielle

Not thinking fully clearly she did not grab the pun and heard what sounded more familiar as a name "Falk Face" she shook his hand and nodded trying to commit the name to the face, falcon for the first name and from a stone-maker decent, was that right?, "it might be weakness on my part, but I don't believe I could face my mother like this yet", he likely would regard it as weakness but she didn't care, "I have my own money so I would think getting an apartment might make the most sense if I can find one quickly tonight. Get a full fresh start and control of my own life rather then relying on ... " she was going to say you but that could be taken wrongly "anyone".

"I would also like to discuss with this harpy to ensure that my story is straight the next time I speak to my mother, I would not want any accidents to happen", it still felt wrong, but she had to do this to make sure mistakes did not happen.

Moving to leave the room she muttered very lowly under her breath "and then I want to get lost in something mindless for a few hours", her thoughts on violence, she could almost hear her teachers it solves nothing, her answer in her mind it makes me feel better but then this night was not shaping up in her favour.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"I saw something I wasn't supposed to. I was offered the choice of being murdered and eaten or becoming a vampire. I chose the latter."

He considers Amy words. "That's what I'm thinking. I was under the impression the embrace is given very rarely. Yet it was given to the six of us in one night. That's a rather large coincidence." The thought troubles him. In any case, this was a good time to make a contact. He hands her one of his business cards.

"I'm a private investigator. Or was. Not sure what I am now. Anything you'd like to talk about outside your clan, give me a ring."

[Strawberries]

Amy

Well, at least someone was given that choice, iIs Amy first thought. It’s more or less the same choice she had asked for, but apparently in her case, there were political consideration that prevented it. Shut up, you would have chosen the same as he has. True enough, and Amy is not the kind to hold grudges over the principle of the thing.

She accepts the card with a nod, examining it briefly before stuffing it in the top pocket of her jacket. Private investigator; that’s a job she would have liked, two hours ago and in another life. Were I still alive, I would have phoned and asked him for a job. it would have been just the kind of opportunity she had always dreamt of. Well, so much for that, now. Talk about bad timing. “I’ ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Rick” she says with a smile, holding out her hand for an handshake. “And, uhm… likewise.” Even if she doesn’t have a card to give. Maybe she should get one. Amy Everett, horrid thing from your worst nightmare and computer consultant, that is a title that catches the eye, she thinks with a snigger.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica nodded.

She felt a great weight lift from her shoulders, she'd done it.

"I need to stop by the hotel first, pick up my bags and check out," she said, "it's just around the corner from the office, shouldn't take more than fifteen or twenty minutes."

What have I done?

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire was just close enough to overhear Erica and casually changed course. The two were were leaving, well another time then. She should have a long time to sate her curiosity anyways. Still she should at least make some kind of social contact tonight. Unless Rogan was done, but Claire suspected he'd collect her when he was done and wouldn't care for some antsy child agitating for him to leave.

Claire continued a casual walk around the room to where Amy and Rick were speaking.

[Worlok]

Lack of speech begets silence. Silence has a way of aiding concentration. Concentration, in turn, helps with everything, but managing thoughts, plans, and memories in particular. At the rate with which Faruq grew aware of just how insanely lucky he'd gotten on this, the worst day of his life, he likewise found more and more reason to feel confident, invincible, even, and a wellspring of realisations and theories opened up, much like it had been since he had awoken.

The image of a cape-wearing, camel-riding Faruq al-Assad charging into a crowd of Kindred, burning and slicing them up left and right, dispersed as he grew aware of his position, and forced himself to ease into the scene. Still, the conundrum of despising Melanie, yet likewise finding himself unreasonably obsessed with, interested in her, lingered on, as did the sheer perceived injustice of it all.

At any rate, the Afghan-blooded Scot felt just about ready to start again, and seeing how they'd wanted him to contact Flockton and Uncle 'mad, they would, in time, show him the ropes of regrowing his tongue. They would have to show him a lot of things, ultimately, and seeing how he was to have a use to them, they could certainly not deny him that.

He wasn't in control, and he could hardly win forever. But for now, everything was under control, and he'd shown them the losses to be had in messing with him. It was unlikely that he'd come off that fact for some time, but while he was here, and as long as they had him silenced, he could enjoy the fact, listen in on conversations and add snarky comments to his heart's content, sip his drink, have the servants run, and enjoy the fact that he'd probably scared them enough to not only make Flat Face cut him up, but also to have types like Byron watching him.

Gesturing to the man, and giving him sly winks as if they shared a secret noone else could know, he made a point of mingling with the crowd, gesturing in his silence, and generally behave in all the ways a mute guy at a black-tie event could behave without drawing undue negative attention. Faruq al-Assad would enjoy what little there still was to be enjoyed, for he was the lion and conqueror.

I can do sign language, or whatever it is I'm doing here. Maybe if I could also do German and French, the old guys would show the respect I deserve.

I can not just run from here, nor do I have much of a place to go to, but I can find out more about this one, and where it is, and what to do with it.

I can not just give the D to dis chicas, like, one was called Danielle? But I can obviously get in good with the others, and then with them, and I can make them like hella attached to me. Politics, like, I can win at this. Even if...

Even if...

I can not exactly talk to folks right now, but my thoughts are still likely read, and if that works one way, it might work in others. I gotta learn me some mind-control. I gotta learn me some thought-reading. And in the mean, I'll pay attention to things.

You have my sword for now, and my fire. Mind that -I- still have fire and sword. I just use them while working for you. It is my choice to interact with you, not yours. It is my choice to uphold the rules.

All of that and more was what his expression said, and his plan amounted to, even though his thoughts were, for the moment, all firmly grounded in here and now. Why all of this didn't devastate him was an issue, or would have been had he cared enough - But he was tougher now, being undead, and that meant that he could deal with things, so the others, they would have to deal with that, for all he cared.

But now, to take stock once again: The doorfaced goblin had left, as had Donovan. Kirsch and Erica were about to leave. That one chick was standing near them, and the fat failure was talking with the half-pint - I just knew he'd be, if ye catch mah drift? - while servants served, socialites socialised and the vampires... vampired, he guessed.

Burn: You's vamp-high, I'm vamp-higher! Well? Well? Nah, alright, terrible, I admit. Gotta talk with Isaac over this, he'll set me up with some better ones. Gesturing and talking soundlessly, showing the ruin of his tongue all over and enjoying that it would most definitely creep people out, he had conspired to make as much of his disability as possible. In the end, the one that was silenced for speaking truth to power could in general get much more of his martyr action on. Like, Jenny of Or-ly-long 'n' crap. For botherin' with the French, be burned on dis vam-pyre. Works for me. Why am I so relaxed? I should be wussing out. That was horror, like. But I ain't, and I'm more like definitely in the zone right now.

That he was: With Rick and the goblin-girl standing aside and talking, and the one girl - Claire, if he recalled correctly - pacing all about the room, he, himself, graciously and efficiently trolled the gathering with his gestures and imitation, and his utterly wordless derision, like a vengeful god of failed communication. He would still, eventually, have to leave however, and thus made to follow Josef and Erica, seeing how those would know best where to go, and his own sire was so incompetent. I should really stop thinking that way about her. Thinking of her at all. What the hell? Why is she important? She isn't. Not to me. I told them that, I showed them that, I am superior, I am Faruq al-Asssad, I have won.

And much as if stubbornness was a virtue, he trudged on ahead behind his erstwhile angel, dwelling on the possibilities of these here Kindred having gossips of a sort, and trying to tune out that he had not, so far, been personally adressed by anyone to his knowledge - If, after all, someone did not want to talk to Faruq al-Assad, who had fought beyond the loss of his tongue and his manifold victories and his enemies' trickery and their vile weakness too, it was their loss, not his...

Until Danielle came in, the one he had spoken up for, after all, looking like she could need some way to relax, and in the company of the flat-faced one. Unsure as to what to do, and overhearing the term "harpy" (Those there gossips of a sort, gotta remember that.), he hesitated, glancing at her expectantly. Still though. One drawback of not being able to talk? No chance to pick up girls. Smart move there, goblins, real smart. Eventually, someone'd pay for that. He did not think this as such. But it seemed quite apparent.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Seeing Claire approach, Rick waves her over. He's eager to make as many contacts as he can.

If she approaches, he'll greet her. "Claire right? Amy and I were just talking about the oddity of the six of us being chosen on the same day. Seems most unusual, don't you think?."

[Soras Teva Gee]

"Yes I'm Claire Russo, sorry I didn't really introduce myself back in the room," Claire said to Rick and Amy as she approached. "And I haven't given that matter any thought but saying it does seem odd."

It seems this Rick had something of intelligence too. Then again he had been one of the ones to keep his mouth shut during the ceremonies, so at least he had that going for him. Unlike his current dance partner though she'd was far from the worst, Claire could guess that before tonight Amy had looked normal. It seemed to some kind of clan trait going by the company in the room. Hard luck on her then. Claire silently counted her blessings on at least this small account. She rather enjoyed her looks and knew she at least broke average. Kind of a shame these clothes didn't showcase much come to think of it. Or fit well, they must have shrunk in her wet, or maybe something had changed in her measurements.

Putting that aside though Claire considered Rick's point. For the numbers of vampires present, six at a time was definitely too high to be considered normal. Even five was too large, Erica and the idiot could as a pair could pass especially if she had followed thing right and their faction had suffered losses recently. Her own case and the rest made sense in isolation. Together though... interesting.

"Hmm, except what connects the dots then?" Claire said crossing her arms and tapping the fingers of her right hand in irritation. "My own case is a private... bargain... of sorts. I won't bother you with the details, but the circumstances of it though shouldn't allow any connection to anyone else."

That wasn't quite true, there was still the matter of Sean Loveless. But poor Gary had only found the two odd accounts. Even more tellingly Loveless hadn't shown any interest in her all evening, at least that Claire had seen, that suggested he didn't know or at least did not care. Still she wasn't going to share what had led her here in any detail. She didn't like to kiss and tell anyways.

"I don't question the oddity... but to what end?"

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"A pleasure to meet you. Name's Rick Valentino." He offers his hand to shake, finding Claire considerably less repulsive.

"The way it was explained to me, I was already number four in the list of prospective candidates to be embraced. So apparently my clan at least was planning to pick someone new soon. Maybe your clans were similar. Something about you impressed the higher ups, and you were both embraced."

He thinks hard on Claire's words. "What end indeed. Perhaps this is a yearly or biannual event, where embraces are allowed one day of the year. Explains our current predicament. I'll have to look into it more. I'll let you both know if I find anything interesting about the timing. Something does seem fishy. In the mean time, my card." he offers Claire his contact information as well.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Rick's idea made sense, but something about it said that was almost too easy an explanation. Her high school science teacher had liked to go on about Occam and his razor, but coding and debugging had taught Claire that when it came to real work that old yarn wasn't sharp enough to shave your legs with. Oh it could be true, but the real problems and mysteries were never so simply resolved.

"Hmm, its silly but looking at this makes me a little mad," Claire said holding Rick's card, "I'd hoped to have some of these with Doctor Russo on them one day. Maybe runs go into business for myself with 'em even. That would be some trick to pull of now."

Though come to think of it this late in the game she only really had one hurdle left to clear. If she could still arrange defending her thesis she could always have them mail her the diploma. Assuming this whole vampire business left her with time to finish debugging the practical demonstration and polishing off the paper end. Maybe just maybe she wouldn't have to abandon years of effort after all.

[Strawberries]

"Amy Everett. And I agree, Claire." Amy remembers the words Mike used well enough: 'Word is you're not the only one who's being embraced tonight'. He didn't know either, so it's unlikely that Rich's theory is the right one "As for me, it looks like this...thing was planned but, uh, it wasn't mean to happen tonight." Or maybe it was. Flat face did say he had orders about her, after all. Whatever he meant by that.

[daelrog]

Worlok: Could you pick a group for Faruq to interact with? The problem is, the reactions would be quite varied depening who he goes to. No physical violence though, promise, it's Elyisum now.:smallwink:

Oh, and right now Danielle is in another room, so he can't see her.

Danielle

Flat Face shook his head. "Not tonight, girl. You have the two choices I'm giving you. Or the sun, but that would make everything as pointless as your knight in shining armor said it was." He yawned, bored. "You can get your own place first thing tomorrow night. Now unless you want to chat and pretend the trial made you accepted, by all means. Else, I want to get back."

Amy, Claire, Rick

Chase gave her name to Amy when she asked, but just the first name. The ghouls listened to them chatter. It was Chase again who answered. "No, some cities have policies like that, but not this one. Kindred are a superstitious lot, and a lot of people are nervous about tonight. Sure, there were five kindred who had earned the right to sire, or sire again, but only Erica and Faruq were supposed to be tonight."

Erica

When Erica and Josef stepped outside, he departed from her. "Instruct the driver on how to get to you hotel room. I will be waiting for you first thing in the evening tomorrow." He took the first car, a Bentley, moving into the passenger seat. The car sped away, leaving Erica alone to instruct the driver, and arrange herself for the final two hours of the night.

The clouds had parted and it was a starry night.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica sat neatly in the rear seat of the unnecessarily air conditioned car and closed the door behind her.

"Embassy Suites, corner of Market and Cross," she said, reflexively buckling her seat belt.

They hadn't gone more than a block or two before she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Shoulders shook uncontrollably as she wept to herself. Almost a minute passed before she realized there were no tears. She turned on the overhead light and checked her reflection, fixing her hair and doing her best to unsmudge makeup before they arrived.

"I'll be right back," she said to the driver, then slammed the door and strode confidently through the revolving door.

She almost felt half-normal again as she kicked off her heels upon entered the room. She changed quickly and collected her things. The bag quickly filled. Makeup, toothpaste, toothbrush, change of clothes... packing was almost second nature to her, but she stopped at the birth control pills.

Erica stood for a full minute, halfway between dresser and suitcase, simply looking at the innocuous item and everything it represented grasped weakly in her hand. Then, shoulders slumped, she dropped the pills into her bag and opened the planner, writing down yet another question, this one for Melanie, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

While going through her normal pre-checkout sweep of the hotel room, she suddenly recalled the traditions she'd sworn to uphold. The young woman ripped open her planner again and scanned the words, shaking her head. This would not do. Recalling her college gaming days, she scribbled notes that only a D&D geek might recognize, including words like magic-user, THAC0, HPS, DM, and tossing in Shadows and Wraiths and Vampires for good measure. Now anyone reading her planner would think she was simply planning a setting, purely a work of creative fiction, just like the history of Western influence in Asia.

Twenty-five minutes after entering the hotel, Erica, now wearing jeans, a denim jacket and converse sneakers, dropped her travel bag next to her in the back seat of the company car and instructed the driver to take her back to Weinmann and Kirsch.

So do vampires cry tears, blood, or not at all?

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica sat neatly in the rear seat of the unnecessarily air conditioned car and closed the door behind her.

"Embassy Suites, corner of Market and Cross," she said, reflexively buckling her seat belt.

They hadn't gone more than a block or two before she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Shoulders shook uncontrollably as she wept to herself. Almost a minute passed before she realized there were no tears. She turned on the overhead light and checked her reflection, fixing her hair and doing her best to unsmudge makeup before they arrived.

"I'll be right back," she said to the driver, then slammed the door and strode confidently through the revolving door.

She almost felt half-normal again as she kicked off her heels upon entered the room. She changed quickly and collected her things. The bag quickly filled. Makeup, toothpaste, toothbrush, change of clothes... packing was almost second nature to her, but she stopped at the birth control pills.

Erica stood for a full minute, halfway between dresser and suitcase, simply looking at the innocuous item and everything it represented grasped weakly in her hand. Then, shoulders slumped, she dropped the pills into her bag and opened the planner, writing down yet another question, this one for Melanie, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

While going through her normal pre-checkout sweep of the hotel room, she suddenly recalled the traditions she'd sworn to uphold. The young woman ripped open her planner again and scanned the words, shaking her head. This would not do. Recalling her college gaming days, she scribbled notes that only a D&D geek might recognize, including words like magic-user, THAC0, HPS, DM, and tossing in Shadows and Wraiths and Vampires for good measure. Now anyone reading her planner would think she was simply planning a setting, purely a work of creative fiction, just like the history of Western influence in Asia.

Twenty-five minutes after entering the hotel, Erica, now wearing jeans, a denim jacket and converse sneakers, dropped her travel bag next to her in the back seat of the company car and instructed the driver to take her back to Weinmann and Kirsch.

So do vampires cry tears, blood, or not at all?

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica sat neatly in the rear seat of the unnecessarily air conditioned car and closed the door behind her.

"Embassy Suites, corner of Market and Cross," she said, reflexively buckling her seat belt.

They hadn't gone more than a block or two before she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Shoulders shook uncontrollably as she wept to herself. Almost a minute passed before she realized there were no tears. She turned on the overhead light and checked her reflection, fixing her hair and doing her best to unsmudge makeup before they arrived.

"I'll be right back," she said to the driver, then slammed the door and strode confidently through the revolving door.

She almost felt half-normal again as she kicked off her heels upon entered the room. She changed quickly and collected her things. The bag quickly filled. Makeup, toothpaste, toothbrush, change of clothes... packing was almost second nature to her, but she stopped at the birth control pills.

Erica stood for a full minute, halfway between dresser and suitcase, simply looking at the innocuous item and everything it represented grasped weakly in her hand. Then, shoulders slumped, she dropped the pills into her bag and opened the planner, writing down yet another question, this one for Melanie, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

While going through her normal pre-checkout sweep of the hotel room, she suddenly recalled the traditions she'd sworn to uphold. The young woman ripped open her planner again and scanned the words, shaking her head. This would not do. Recalling her college gaming days, she scribbled notes that only a D&D geek might recognize, including words like magic-user, THAC0, HPS, DM, and tossing in Shadows and Wraiths and Vampires for good measure. Now anyone reading her planner would think she was simply planning a setting, purely a work of creative fiction, just like the history of Western influence in Asia.

Twenty-five minutes after entering the hotel, Erica, now wearing jeans, a denim jacket and converse sneakers, dropped her travel bag next to her in the back seat of the company car and instructed the driver to take her back to Weinmann and Kirsch.

So do vampires cry tears, blood, or not at all?

[dancrilis]

Danielle

She looked at the man for a while, taking in his misshapen features, she was slightly confused "What knight in shining armour?", the Jackal, Al and Iris and what was it Trent?, both groups had seemed to have initially saved her but neither had really mentioned anything about something being pointless ... surely Flak was not talking about the man that interrupted the trial for no obvious purpose?

"Fine I will take the flats then so", might as well she figured it might make it handier for starting tomorrow night.

"But in the interests of maintaining this masquerade I need to speak to the harpy", considering her next words carefully, "if my mother worries about me she could get PI's and the police involved, tracing numbers tonight might make things difficult ... and all that can be avoided by simply making me aware of the conversation" ... and would have been better taken care of if she had the info on the call earlier.

"I would also like to keep my word to the prince and see about closure for the families of the dead in there, and Billy's other victims" turning to leave the room again.

[daelrog]

Danielle

The Nosferatu brusier chuckled. "All right, you can meet Purity. on't bother with Billy's old connections. It's dealt with. The kid was a loser and those around him paid the price."

He led Danielle back, leading her to the harpy with the short, man's cut hair. "Purity, this girl thinks you can't do your job. Wants to give you tips or something."

"Oh?" The woman looked amused and turned to Danielle.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Amy, Claire, Rick

"Amy, a pleasure to meet you as well," Claire doing her best not to stumble with the words, at least Amy seemed to lack the Prince's smell. There were more then enough of the uglies around to make being polite a necessity, not the least Jean de Orlock up there. Besides it really wasn't fair to judge a book by its cover. Only this cover was particularly bad. Then again she already knew the contents too because she'd already become the same story. If anything the uglies might be more honest.

When Chase spoke up she turned too look at the woman, something about her said she went with the Servants. The still living ones anyways, like Victor with Rogan. And Charlie, damn there she went again. Putting that thought aside Claire decided to mine some info out of Chase.

"Sire again you say, would that be Rogan or Josef Kirsch or both?" Claire said making a quick assumption based on evident status. "Either so the three of us were more spontaneous then I guess. And with the specific timing, that's still a little too heavy for coincidence. I think a bit of superstition might be wise, my parents raised me to put stock in science... but I've seen things tonight that prove rather scientifically science is wrong."

[daelrog]

Rick, Amy, Claire

Chase smiled. "A sire is the one who created you, sort of like a parent in death. Every kindred was created by another for time immorial, supposedly Biblical Caine being the first. Any kindred can sire unless their blood is too weak. That's what they kept saying about Danielle, she's of the 14th generation. That means that the curse of Caine has been passed that many times. Kindred are generally as powerful as how old they are, and what generation. Of course, that's just raw strength. Doesn't take into account politics and creativity though the old ones usually have an advantage in those as well."

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire gave the woman bemused look and smirked.

"Thank you but I'd picked that up by you using the word as a verb first. My degree work may be in computer science but I did take a few English courses. I was asking you which of the Primogen, that was the word used yes, had done this before."

The rest though interested her. Really Caine, like Caine and Abel first murder and all that? Chase was apparently quite serious though. She was prepared to question science's basic assumptions, but that didn't mean she was about to leap into literal creationism either. The explanation had to account for both. Still if vampires didn't age... it might be possible to verify that story.

"Now the rest, Caine and all that. How much of that is verifiable as fact?"

[Dark Seeker]

Huh. Looks like I should have stayed active in the Church. Hope it's not too late now.

Rick glances at the other two. " Seems the first thing we should do is figure out our generation. Might help to tell us just where on the totem pole we stand. Well, we're all clearly at the bottom now. But see where we'd end up after we earn some respect."

He observes Chase, awaiting her response to Claire's query.

[Strawberries]

Amy, Claire, Rick

"Really, that's the first thing you want to figure out?" that is a game Amy isn't particularly eager to play. As far as she is concerned, it's just another game of 'mine is bigger', whatever 'mine' happens to be in the specific case. As for her, there are other things that take priority. Such as to figure out what can kill her now, or how to survive without killing people, or how much of her old life is salvageable. And then, then she wants to start digging. Figure out who those people are and were, what they did and what are their secrets. Generation and politics little games be damned, Amy wants to know things.

She doesn't say anything out loud in reply to Chase's words, partly because she isn't really sure what to say. Caine? Caine as in Adam and Eve and all that stuff Mom kept going on about? not here, too. She got enough of that crap when she was living at her parent's house.

She notices a movement at the corner of her eye, and turns to see that Danielle has reentered the room. And apparently Flat Face is with her. She frowns. That is a company she wouldn't wish on anybody.

[daelrog]

Chase shrugged. "Most kindred create childer, I think each of the Primogen have had more than one over the years, some who live in the city, most who don't, or died a long time ago.

"As for Caine..." She reached up an back, starting to undo the tight bun her hair was in, to give it some comfort. "It's not verifiable at all. There's a few other theories out there as well, but the story of Caine has passed from sire to childer, in all thirteen Clans, over the millenia. Each has their own twist on it, but Caine's still a large part of it."

She looked at Rick. "Don't rush too far ahead to figure out generation. Most kindred won't be keen to talk about it much, as it's kind of considered like sizing them up, and I mean that in the animal kingdom, predator and prey way. I'm sure each of your sire's will tell you soon enough."

[Dark Seeker]

Rick, Claire, Amy

Rick shrugs. "Best to see where we stand, in the state of things. I'd like to know just how much respect I can hope to expect from my so called pedigree."

Chase's words mollify him somewhat. "Makes sense. Another mystery for another day. Or night. I suppose it's best to keep that sort of thing a secret."

He looks at Danielle, but makes no move to her.

She'll be one to watch, if only to see how this society treats its underclass.

[Strawberries]

I thought I had to log off sooner and I didn't want to slow downanyone. Turns out I'm early, so I may as well describe the action :smallwink:

Amy, Rick, Claire

Amy nods "It does make sense." She shifts her weight uncomfortably, turning again to look at Danielle and Flat Face "Uhm... it's been nice to meet all of you, Rick, Claire, miss Chase. If you would excuse me..."

She nods politely towards them, then quicky moves nearer to where Danielle and Flat Face are. She doesn't want to leave the girl alone with that thug for longer than she has to.

[dancrilis]

Danielle

"Thank you" she stated to the man after he agreed to let me meet the harpy she spent the trip composing herself for the meeting, this was the woman who involved her mother, the woman that made that call so difficult, the woman that had worried her ... well she needed to be polite and sensible about this and really it wasn't the woman's fault she was just performing her role and had set her mother's mind to rest.

She bit back a caustic response to the Nosferatu's introduction, she wanted to plaster a smile on her face to appear friendly but couldn't bring herself to "hello Miss Purity, Mr Face's statement is not entirely accurate. I would in fact like to thank you for taking the time to call my mother earlier to place her mind at ease", well that was the logical truth even if not the emotional truth, "however as I had not been made aware of this, my own call was somewhat difficult. As such I felt that it would be better to confirm what you discussed with her throughout the call to avoid any unpleasantness later and ensure that there are no contradictions, thereby ensuring that the masquerade is as stable as possible to ensure that neither my mother or potentially the Jackel will wonder who made the first call and decide to review", there that was logical ... heavy-handed but logical.

Considering the woman, "Apologies" she extended her hand, "I should have introduced myself, Danielle Leblanc, it is a pleasure to meet you", would that take the heavy-handedness off the blunt statement? she was never sure about these things.

[daelrog]

Danielle, Amy

As Amy approaches she can hear Purity speak. "Purity Westbrook." The woman takes anielle's hand, then hr voice changes to a teenage girl's eerily similar to Danielle's, "A pleasure." She smiles, and her voice returns to normal. "No need to thank me little one, I thought I was buying the Prince time to come up with a cover up to your death. It was just buying time. All I said was that you'd be staying over at a friends. A contact of mine at Billy, and your school gave me a random girl's name from your athletic team. I'm afraid I don't remember anything else, I was distracted at the time."

[Worlok]

...Right. Ignore me then, clanless bitch, you're gonna see what good will come of it. Marveling at how easily "clanless bitch" had come over his mind's lips, Faruq found himself casually making sure that his tongue had, in fact, not regrown yet as he glared at the passing Caitiff and Goblin. Eventually, you'll snap out of it, and I will hear your thanks for what I tried to do. Until then, I can wait, no problem. Just one less reason to spare you once my revenge goes over. But for the time being, it would maybe behoove him to find out just who could potentially be on his side? Unless he had misjudged them earlier, and that was unlikely in the worst of times, he wasn't the only one who disliked these Kindred swine, and seeing how those knew exactly what he thought of them, there was no point in holding back about the fact.

But that is really just the rotting goblin corpse and his collection of retarded pleasure slaves up over yonder. As for the sane people I have met so far, though... Say what you will about P.I.s and cops, most of the time they mean well. So, that Rick fellow, he's unlikely to actually support any of this waste. Much less with murder, kidnapping and rape involved. And with those corpses for show and whatnot. Same goes for the goblin girl, given that being one of... those -things- means having had to deal with Flat Face at some point, and I can not imagine someone spending some alone-time with the Knife Retard, not voluntarily at any rate. These vampires did apparently somehow pull Erica over to their side though, why would she leave with Krautface otherwise, and thus I will sadly not be able to trust her, despite all that she did for me. But once Kirsch has been dealt with, that should likewise break his hold on her. It will be necessary to speak her in private, at any rate. And the same or something like that goes for every last one of these people, or at least the ones that can still be saved. Worrying. Beatable odds, but worrying.

He would have taken a nice, long, relaxing breath by this point, but, well, undead. On the plus side, it apparently left him headache-free even in moments like this one. Speaking of the others, though... Yes, there they are, and they seem to be getting some answers. Maybe a good time to subtly join the conversation, then. And following through on that, he made to slowly, deliberately, and without betraying much obvious and immediate interest, join with Amy, Rick, Claire and Chase. Can't talk anyway, no need to fear interrupting them.

And just as he thought this, the goblin girl made to move away, apparently to approach Danielle, who had in turn approached one of them harpy types, along with Flat Face. And that's another conversation I could just get in on, then. But well, let's try to listen in on the interesting stuff for today. Can still spread the gossip some other night. Interesting though that Little Miss Death Row can apparently afford to play arrogant around all of us, not just me. Better to keep an eye on her, then. She had, after all, just returned with Flat Face - Maybe this was like a not-too-cleverly run gang, and letting the psychos have fun with you was a way for their girls to move upwards, socially? Then again, they had hardly been out of sight long enough for anything of the sort, and he, Faruq, certainly didn't intend to think about Jean's gargoyle there getting it on with the pardoned one right now.

Here and now, focus, just listen, learn, and try stayin' out of trouble.

Can't exactly interact much. Can really only stand next to people, gesture and think his comments, where he can't keep himself from thinking anyway. Now standing relatively close to Rick and Claire, listening in on the conversation. Will see how the rest comes along from there.

This will sadly be my last update til about Monday though, or at least that is the most likely case. Just thought I'd let you know.

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy

Danielle suppressed a shiver at her voice being mimicked, "Still had you not called then it may have caused issues for her regardless of me fate, and taking it that nothing else was worth remembering means I will likely be able to improvise for gaps, thank you for the confirmation", she nodded her head in thanks, she didn't trust the woman any more then anyone else but she could work with this.

She turned to the man beside her again and saw Amy, she offered her a smile in greeting, "Hi" ... she thought for a second " ... Amy", she took a step back to allow Amy to introduce herself to Purity if she wanted or to allow her to speak to the man she thought of as Flak Face if that was her intention.

[Soras Teva Gee]

"So about what any myth has going for it then. Too much to ask that there's a friendly ancient or three around who can read Gilgamesh in original Sumerian an will happily tell you about Caine, the Flood, and can give you the lat and long on the Garden huh?" Claire said to Chase's final reply, "Well its a lot more plausible then it would have been yesterday for me at least."

All in all it had been a fair answer though. She'd never been much of a history buff but this could do with some looking into. Clearly wouldn't be easy though. And Chase seemed to be answering pretty freely, so might as well keep digging for info until Rogan collected her.

"So to switch topics but since you do seem at least reasonably well informed, this Hunter they spoke about in the trial. What's common knowledge there on him and those like him?"

[Strawberries]

Amy, Danielle

"Hi, Danielle. Hello miss... Westbrook? It's nice to meet you" The latter is said in a tone that is a bit more guarded. After all, this is one of the three idiots that had saw fit to laugh when she was being introduced: Amy doesn't know where she stands with them, and to be perfectly honest, she doesn't care that much either.

She turns to Danielle again, scrutinising her for a moment with some concern. Are you alright? Is what she has come over to ask, but she realises just in time what a stupid question that really is. If someone asked her that after the sort of night they've all had, she'd probably tell them to bugger off - and Danielle is doubly justified in this regard. So she settles for returning the girl's smile in encouragement and trying to figure out for herself how Danielle is holding up. Not bad it seems, Flat Face and all the rest considered.

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy

Introductions being taken care if and as Amy did not seem to want anything in particular "Thank you for your time Miss Westbrook, I won't take up any more of it, if you will excuse me", given enough time for a reply she then stepped away from the woman to allow her space.

"Amy it appears that I am to stay at flats held by your clan, and will have the basics explained to me by Flak here", nodding to indicate the man "I would like to catch up later if possible".

She turned to the man "There are only three other items I would like to take care of, the return of the knife I relinquished at the start of the night, to confirm that I will have no issues with the primogen that seemed to take the most interest in me who has the responsibility of killing me if I step out of line, and to speak with the other newbies", this last was merely a courtesy as to not appear anti-social, "if you would get the knife I will meet you back here shortly", she started to move to the primogen that had been staring at her earlier and steeled herself for the conversation, he had looked at her and she had glared at him, I held my own earlier so way do I feel so nervous now.

[Strawberries]

Amy, Danielle

Well, that’s...unexpected. Flat Face doesn’t seem exactly like the mentor type. Amy wonders why he had been chosen. She frowns a bit, confused at the term of address. How did Danielle call him? She shots Flat Face a questioning look, but doesn’t ask. She can ask later, in private, either him or Danielle.

“I’ll be really happy to.” she says, sincerely, at Danielle’s request to talk later. Even if, to be honest, she’s not even sure she is going to sleep in those flats, or go back to her room. It’s not exactly sunproof, if sun is going to be an issue like in movies. The shutter is broken and the curtains don’t close properly, and she never had the money to get them fixed. She would have to ask Mike if she’s supposed to stay with the other Nosferatu, otherwise...maybe she can sleep under the bed. It’s the darkest place she can think of.

She puts a hand briefly on Danielle’s shoulder, in a small gesture of sympathy and understanding. “Uhm... Danielle, they told me to be careful around Cassidy. So, be careful, okay?” she can’t avoid saying, a genuine note of worry in her voice. She doesn’t explain the entire ‘off his rocker’ business because, honestly, it’s too crazy to put in words, and neither she tries to dissuade Danielle to do what she feels she has to do – she’s not so sure of what the right course of action is to start giving advices to others. But she can at least give the teen an heads-up.

[daelrog]

Amy, Danielle

All weapons, including the knife Danielle had, were confiscated during the checkpoints going into the Prince's Estate.

Flat Face shook his head. "No, stick to the other fledglings, girl. The primogens don't want to talk to you, and you don't want to talk to them. This ain't a movie when everyone shakes hands and walks away happy. A positive, mature attitude isn't going to make you class president." He noticed Danielle's mispronuniciation of his name, but he didn't care truth be told.

As he spoke, Purity excused herself.

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy

Cassidy! yes that was the name, another reason to thank Amy, she put her hand on hers and gave it a gentle squeeze in thanks.

She looked hard at the man when he spoke, he was patronising but she was not sure yet if it was the good kind of patronising where as a patron he imported his wisdom or the annoying kind, she decided to treat it as the good kind ... after all if she didn't listen to him on things like this then she couldn't trust him on the other stuff.

She gave a shard nod, "Thanks", she looked at Cassidy, "I will leave him then".

She moved to join the others from this night and stopped other fledglings, is that other from Amy or other from myself, she had assumed that the way the prince stated that the others were fledglings after being accepted that it was a term used until they were released from their sire, where instead her clanless nature made her outside this system and somewhat separate from it, well this is one of the questions that can wait.

Looking to Amy "Well might as well meet the others than", she moved towards that group.

[Strawberries]

Amy, Danielle (and all the others, by the end of the post)

Ooookay. Ignoring me, then. Amy thinks when the Harpy excuses herself without acknowledging her greetings. Oh, well, it's nor like I'm devastated by the rejection. If she had approached the woman at all, it had just been to talk to Danielle. Still, I really wonder what the hell is their problem with us.

She nods to Danielle, moving to follow her towards the others. She takes a moment to listen in on what they're discussing. The hunter, apparently, which as far as Amy is concerned, is a very interesting subject. And Danielle has had first-hand experience with him. She chooses to nod in greeting and stay silent, listening to Chase's reply and waiting in case Danielle has something to say.

[daelrog]

Everyone but Erica

The fledgelings all were around Chase now, but Erica who had left. Chase noticed, looking slightly uncomfortable that she had suddenly become to focal point to all of the new kindred who were still present. She still answered the question. "There's not much I can help you with that either I'm afraid. Problem with Jackal the Nine-Bladed is that even the kindred don't know much about him. Who he is, what he looks like, even if he's human. He has a few powers apparently that suggests he's something else. That's why even the kidnred are afraid of him, because they don't know what he's capable of, of what will work and won't work on him. No one knows what, if any of the disciplines will have any affect, and few kindred are willing to find out first hand.

"You'd think that people who've lived hundreds of years old would figure out all the dark truths of the world, but even most elders only scratch the surface, or so they say. Other supernaturals aren't keen to give up their secrets and those who do figure out enough generally don't live longer than that.

"As far as anyone knows Jackal's the only one of his kind. Certainly not the only hunter, but the only one who has special powers. Then again, rumors talk of others across the world now and then, but that's all it is for now, rumors."

[Dark Seeker]

Ricky

"Thanks for your help Chase," Rick interjects. "I take this to mean we should stay away from this Jackal fellow, not do anything that would attract his attention, and wait for those older and more experienced then ourselves to deal with him." This was fine with Rick. He had enough to worry about without attracting the attention of some other supernatural creature. What was next, fairies?

[dancrilis]

All (baring Erica)

Holy crap, they had been just turned into blood drinking monsters and the only thing they could think to talk about was one person in a city of half a million that didn't like them ... rather then on more important things like not killing people accidental, and whether animal blood would work, ah well to each their own.

"Well I don't know about older and more experienced", Danielle said with a smile inserting herself into the conversation, her voice was light "weaker and more expendable, seems to be the way that the older kindred are looking at it", taking on a serious note "seriously though I would say to stay away from him and don't look into it" gesturing around her "all this, impressive, creepy, somewhat monstrous, none of it is 'turn my blood to ice and run' stuff, not the death" indicating the bodies "not the violence" indicating the Arab "not those at the head table" nodding back to them "though they might be about to if they chose", she paused considering that "the hunter?, he was scary. Cold, rational, driven, ruthless, skilled and very very dangerous". Shrugging "Personally I would say you should all go with the warmasters' plan" she could not remember his name "keep a low profile, don't attract attention, and once me and the jackal deal with one another - and I am willing to bet that there is a betting pool on how long it takes me to die right now if anyone is interested - then he will move on and the masquerade will be secure and you will have been shown how dangerous it is to go around flaunting it", her voice taking a lower tone so as not to be overheard by eavesdroppers "and if you do ignore me on that, I suggest that you remember that the elders were worried that I would attract his unwanted attention to them, so they probably don't want you getting involved" her tone lightening again "but hey what do I know".

Smiling at the woman she didn't know who seemed somewhat nervous, "Sorry low on manners right now, it has been a long night" and it had her brain was fried, "Danielle" she extended her hand to the woman.

[Strawberries]

All (baring Erica)

Yes, sure, why not? Do as the kid at the table said, hide our heads under the sand. That's a good strategy, I see why he has been made warmaster. Amy doesn't say anything, but she snorts. And also somewhat loudly - she can't help it: the whole thing is just too ridiculous. Plus, they can maybe afford the luxury of not feeling involved, but Danielle can't, and she already seems resigned to die. What you have just said, you know that's pure idiocy, right? she wants to say, but she doesn't. She is going to give the girl a piece of her mind later, in private.

[Worlok]

All (except Erica - Anyone else think these read a little like pointing at her? :smalltongue:)

Faruq found himself listening to Danielle despite having decided to just ignore her mere moments before she spoke. Must have been something to do with her pointing at him and saying 'violence', he reckoned, yet he thought: 'Cold, rational, driven, ruthless, skilled and very very dangerous'? Dangerous enough for them to hole up here and hope it will just pass them by, at any rate. That's good to know. Pondering the implications of a superior creature coming to tear these roaches down, and the girl they had just recently wanted to put to death being sent forth in order for her and the beast to "deal with one another", he found himself almost anticipating... something. Right, focus, don't even think. They're in your head, after all. I need something distracting, something to throw them off. Just imagining them in underwear won't exactly do much, they know what they look like with the suits off, I would guess.

And that was when he heard Amy snort. Of course: Goblins! Think about those! When they just leech thoughts out of my brain, then obviously, they'll have to leech whatever it is I give, and I can defend myself! Just needs to be a whole lot of immensely unpleasant things. So, let's see. Prince Fish-Smell is outta the question, here, he'd just get mad again, and it's his brute for me. But the brute himself? Disgusting enough. Know, let him screw ol' Donny. That should give them a piece of my mind, and get them out of it quick enough to boot.

So it came to be that even as he kept looking at Danielle with as condescendingly disinterested a mien as possible - all for appearance' sake, lastly - a far less enrapturing notion graced his imagination: A small piece of mind's eye theater, showing Flat Face and Donovan having at it like rabbits in early spring, with the young Arab himself drawing no small amount of self-disgust and amazement at just how deviously detailed he could make these things:

Clawed hands caressing warty hide, peeling off strips of it...

Pleasured grunts and squeals through misshapen tusks and gaping maws...

Dead skin flaking off in rapid motion and coming to lie over their surroundings like nauseating snow...

Flat-Face' manhood getting stuck in Donnie's... special cavity and exploding into a fountain of long-past-fermented bodily fluids, leaving only a pathetic stump behind and the man himself screaming in pain and disbelief!

And on that note, someone, -someone- with a knife making sure that it stayed that wa- stop.

But even if this likely did its share to throw off any potential probers, and imagining Flat-Face in shame and agony certainly brightened his mood, he found that it distracted him too much, and he certainly didn't want to leave a bad impression with these half-way sane people just because he broke out into gurgling, tongueless, hearty laughter at another's dreamt-up misfortune while they were still talking about important stuff. So Faruq heavy-heartedly reined himself in for now, and only a snort that would hopefully pass for an affected cough escaped. The Ferret was happy to have devised another strategy, and made to pay closer attention to what the others said, his comparably neutral impression from just a moment ago now giving way to just the meekest hint of a derisive smirk as he continued his one-sided stare-off with the Caitiff.

There is an up-side to not being able to talk, then, after all. Had I been stoned right now, I totally would have had to tell them all about this. But all in its time, Faruq, all in its time. Other questions now: Why she's so hot for doing the bidding of these retards, for one. Whether she even noticed me trying to stand up for her back there. What else there is to know about this 'Jackal' kid. And most importantly, where exactly these other new guys stand on all of this. Spy-style, now, from the Ferret. Watch, listen, learn, make allies. Can't afford to lose any other important parts, no matter whether they will regrow. Silently, he watched, and listened, and tried to force himself back on track whenever his vengeful, disjointed thoughts threatened to distract him all too much. Maybe there would be something to do for him. Maybe not. At any rate, he would not show these people weakness, and given what had transpired so far, there was more than sufficient chance to set all these wrongs right, starting just tomorrow... or the day thereafter... or next week... but soon enough, for sure.

[Soras Teva Gee]

"Right so others hunters are Batman, but this guy is like Batman with Superman thrown in but nobody knows what his Kryptonite is," Claire said, in response to Chase's answer.

Not knowing was really a problem. Claire had no intention of looking for this Jackal, but she doubted she'd be able to hide in her apartment for all eternity too. Outside the odds were still low, but possible. Just because someone was unlikely to randomly war dial your modem and decide to go to town, didn't mean it didn't happen. That why she never left her own rig's phone jack in when she didn't have to, she'd spent too long on her baby to see someone too much like her decide it would be the next prize. Same principle applied, caution and long-life went together.

Something Danielle did not seem to understand judging by her statements. The girl was acting more like the scots-arab by the moment. She at least seemed to not be on drugs too. Then again it could just be the accent, either way both of them were trouble.

"Danielle you seem to have a very screwy view of things. I'm not planning to do anything but keep a low profile. You seem to have trouble recognizing basic caution though. Sounds to me like you want to fight this guy, who if I followed everything killed the dude that killed you. Heck everything you've said tonight practically sounds like you wanna get in a fight. And I'd take this room a lot more seriously if I was you. Whether ones a wolf and the other's a bear, its dumb to poke either with a stick. Make up your mind whether you are alive or dead."

"Me I might not have a pulse, but my mind is working so I'll say 'I think, therefore I am' and act accordingly. You don't seem sure. I feel bad for you because you got an even worse deal then the rest of us but whatever choice the rest of us got wasn't much of one. And all has to boil down to: join or die. Now since evidently some part of you wants to keep kicking if not breathing, perhaps you could tone it down some?"

[daelrog]

The Gang (yes, I had seen that too:smalltongue:

As tensions mounted and Claire called Danielle out, Chase, slipped away tapping Rick as she did so, to indicate maybe it was time to leave. As Rick could see, Harry was readying to leave, and Quenton was with him.

Byron also excused himself, speaking softly, though not quite a whisper to Faruq. "The car will be waiting for you at front. It will take you to your British associate."

The other two ghouls did ot move though, and watched whatever unfolded with interest.

[Worlok]

(Glad I'm not alone there, then. :smalltongue:)

Faruq spared Byron a side-glance, and a gesture intended to signal Alright, I'll be there in five, despite his thought processes going: Already? Well, that's that, then. But I'll stay for one more moment just to see whether the cuties fight. And so he did, waiting for Danielle's response and kinda wondering whether Byron would carry similar inclinations. Ultimately, after all this, it certainly couldn't hurt to have some potential bros, regardless of whether they were in bed with the enemy. And Byron apparently liked someone. That was always a decent hook.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Seeing Chase leave, Rick quickly excuses himself and follows her, not eager to get caught up in a confrontation. For now, having a low profile was important. The last thing he wanted was to make a negative impression on his very first night as an undead predator.

[dancrilis]

To whom may overhear.
She smiled at Claire but it was a sad smile, "Good advice normally", she sighed, "I would honestly like to have nothing to do with the wolf or the bear both are dangerous, but I don't have a choice. When the wolf pack decides to use you as bait for the bear you get the impression that your survival may not be paramount to them", she looked the woman in the eye "were I you I would be more focused on other matters over the hunter, 'how do you feed without killing and leaving bodies everywhere or breaking the rules about the masquerade', 'can you eat animals', 'how will you pay rent and hold down a job to keep up appearances', 'what will you tell your family and friends and family about your new lifestyle choice', 'where are the clan areas so I can avoid breach of the second rule', because not having those covered might very well land you in serious trouble without needing to consider the hunter at all", pausing "or maybe you have that all figured out and I am doing you and the others a disservice and I am the slowest on the uptake. Wouldn't be the first time", her smile was bitter as she considered previous times not least how long it took her to find out she was dead.

"Basic caution for you is to confirm what you need to from a source you can trust, I suggest your sires as you seem to have a grace period underneath their supervision" looking to each of them "basic caution for me is to warn you away from a dangerous topic - which may be unnecessary I admit - so that I am not accused on deliberately encouraging you to put yourself in danger, and then to formulate a plan to avoid dying at the hands of the wolf or the bear" a plan she had no clue of as to yet, in case they hadn't gotten it she added "no official grace period for me".

At this point she wanted to excuse herself she had spoken only to warn them not to stick their heads out, and been widely ignored, but leaving now without giving the older woman a chance to respond would like both weak, childish and rude.

[Worlok]

To himself, really, unless you count "wordless gesturing and throat noises while standing next to Claire and Danielle" as communication. :smalltongue:

Dang. So no catfight to save my night tonight? Shame. But speaking of cats - Why did he not regrow his tongue again? This would have been a grade-A-opportunity for some posing and bragging, really. Also, hey, good advice all around, now it would be my turn, if I could. Actually... Why not? It's the thought that counts.

Trying to somehow bridge the time between Danielle's response - and project some confidence to mask the sheer level of "being way beyond his league in terms of fixing things" that he had going on - and Claire's next reply, he tried to garner either of their attentions by some more gesturing and grunting.

Yeah, alright, we got the gist of your good-advicing, but ultimately, it's my turn now, and I say: Why don't y'all jus' calm down? You got the Lion-blooded here with ya, and lions eat jackals alive for breakfast. Everything's under control, jus' trust me here, and we all already beat death once, there's nothin' to worry about, other than having your tongues ripped out. was what he thought, and would have said. As of right now, however, he restricted himself to a double-thumbs-up and some reassuring smirks. Also, hey, wolves 'n' bears are afraid of fire, 'n' so are we. I mean you. I mean they. Because really, I'm not afraid at all, and I jus' tol' ya you shouldn't worry. That was more the 'winking and chest-thumping' school of communication. So really, I'll get ma tongue back and starting tomorrow, there'll be some planning we'll have to do, is all there is to it. And that was a smile and a bow.

Maybe they would get the gist of it, at least?

[Soras Teva Gee]

"Well let it never be said I did not try," Claire let out an audible sigh. "Obviously those questions are nessecary and need to have answers, but they are universal ones which so the answers are there. The matter with Jackal though is evidently unique and specific, so that was the priority."

Despite her attitude Danielle did raise some at least good questions on their own. One even struck a little too close to home, but it was the way she was doing that was the real issue. Cripes were teenagers ever so annoying.

"But really that's not really the relevant part here. What is relevant is you Danielle. Maybe its just the events of the night but it seems like all you do is push back with aggression. I bring up a matter that was discussed publicly with everyone here and you try to shoo everyone away, please this isn't your private concern it just relates to you more. I smell pride."

"There's times for that, but when the stakes are high enough swallowing it costs far less. Right now, do what you like, who gives a crap about some small talk? But you've acted on the practically same note all night. I feel some sympathy for you so I offer advice, I doubt many in this room will be so obliging. I did try though, you can take it or leave it."

[Strawberries]

Not Erica

Amy watches the mime show put up by Faruq with a raised eyebrow. She really can't understand if he is stoned like when he was in the shop, stressed out, which would be understandable, given what he went through, or simply an idiot. Can vampires get stoned?

She looks between Claire and Danielle. Now, that is an unfair judgment, and it shouldn't been her concern, but it raises her hackles. A lot. And so she find herself speaking: "Of course, because we've all had such an easy night, Danielle most of all- it's not like she died a few hours ago and then barely escaped being killed again less than half an hour ago. I think she deserves to be cut some slack, don't you?" And as far as Amy is concerned, Danielle is holding up more than well. She sighs "It's been a long night. We are tired. At least I know I am." And she wants to ask the important questions to Mike and then go...anywhere,really, to have a proper breakdown. As a treat, let's say. She takes a little step back, turning her head to look at Mike and Slick. "Danielle, if you have to stay with the Nosferatu, let me introduce you to the others" she offers, as a way to defuse the situation.

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy, Claire, Faruq

Looked at the flapping man for a second, was he mentally handicapped had his clan actually embraced a mentally handicapped person, she shook her head at the very idea, probably not but geez.

Turning back to Claire and Amy, "Amy please I appreciate you standing up for me, but it is not needed. I don't know what she went through tonight, and for all I know it was worse then my own experiences", turning to Claire fully, "I respect your view but I feel you are mistaken, the Jackal was only confirmed in the city tonight, had it been tomorrow or yesterday you may not have been told of him, and there are possible many other things that are out there which we are still unaware of. I would not therefore view him as a priority for you, but it is your call", nodding in an addition of error, "you are correct thought I jumped into a conversation half way through and acted like I knew what it was about, and resulted in the conversation dying", at the mention of the others in the room she smiles slightly not in any particular manner but she is satisfied enough with how the night had went and that she remained true to herself during it, "actually on the others in the room, I am happy that I spoke to or was spoken to by reasonable amount of them from different clans and opinions. I am happy enough that I was allowed that opportunity. I do hope I did not embarrass myself to poorly in front of them, but time will tell", noticing that there were only the four of them left, she nodded to the woman and the man in parting, "Apologies for interrupting your conversation".

"Thank you Amy, I look forward to meeting them", she followed the other woman away, partly a lie meeting blood drinking corpses didn't sit well with her but she was starting to think of them as people.

[Strawberries]

Amy, Danielle

Amy nods to the others in a gesture of aknowledgment and salutation, then leads Danielle back to where Mike and Slick are. She smiles to the two Nosferatu. "Danielle, these are Mike and Slick. Mike is...well, my sire." And she suddenly realises she doesn't even know Mike's surname. The man had killed her, you'd have thought she would at least know if Mike stands for Michael or something else: another of the things she really has to ask. "Mike, Slick, well, you know Danielle's name. Flat Face is supposed to show her the... basics, and since she has to stay with the Nosferatu, I thought I'd introduce you." Well, she hopes Slick and Mike are enough to defuse the unpleasantness that Flat Face is guaranteed to be.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Nobody but Claire

Claire met Danielle's last response with an indulgent smile. She had tried at least. In the end there was was no helping people with their own foolishness. Hopefully Danielle was just young and would soon learn to walk a little softer.

"Hopefully your September ends soon enough," She said somewhat quietly as the teen left, though really just thinking out loud. Otherwise Claire might have chosen a turn of phrase someone else might have understood. She was thinking of every September on Usenet. A glut of new freshman getting access to it the net for the first time in their college labs, and every last one took the opportunity to act like an idiot before they learned the rules and the place became livable again.

Seeing only the still biggest idiot left Claire moved about the room once more.

[Worlok]

Right. Didn't work, then. Why must they look at me like I'm retarded when they've clearly seen me get disabled, though? Trying his darndest after this mess of a night to not overreact and get mad at them for failing to interpret made-up sign language, and still feeding off his vented frustrations, supposed victories and new strategies, he managed to not perform the gesture of frustration and defeat he had almost been about to make, rather heaving a sigh - so much, at least, he could do in this state - and made to go find that car he'd been hearing so much about while following Claire with his eyes. However...

Wait. Sign language. Signing. Languages. Letters. Signs. I just need something to write on, and then I can communicate the basics, here. He tried to locate a servant, perking and brightening up immediately. Maybe, if he was just in time, he could find one, and the kind of gestures a mute guy asking for pencil and paper would obviously make should be readily understandable. And then he'd at least be able to notify this chick, seeing how the other two had apparently left. Down, down to Goblin Town, they go, they left. something inside him sang, melodramatically. Where the hell was that melody from? Some old movie, most likely. Still, he now had a plan. Hand her a note, make his point, and retire from this here night victorious. More victorious, anyway.

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy

Danielle braced herself mentally for meeting the two, appearances don't matter she kept thinking to herself, as Amy introduced her to them she froze sire, this was someone who had taken someone against their will murdered them and brought them back as a monster ... she couldn't help but be somewhat angry thinking about it, it made her think of Billy and anger was better then sorrow.

Still was had to make do now so she swallowed the kinds of accusatory things she would have said to Billy about all this, I will have to ask her about not hating him, "I should only be staying for tonight, I don't want to intrude", or have to rely on you she thought, extending her hand first to Slick then Mike "nice to meet you".

[daelrog]

Danielle, Amy

"Pleasure." Mike shook her hand, it was dry and cold.

"Ditto." Slick's hand was... well, his name wasn't for his smooth style.

Flat Face came to the group again. "All right, time to head out. Jean doesn't want us to be the last ones to leave, make it look like we're conspiring right after all the rookies join us." He shared a smile with Mike and Slick that suggested that is exactly what they were going to do anyways though. "Come on, let's hit it. Truck's waiting. Danielle, and Slick take the back.

Rick

The Tremere gather together and left. At first nothing was said. It was the kind of silence that Rick knew meant something. There were two limousines out frotn for them. Chase, Trent, and Quenton went to one, directed by Hank. The Primogen then spoke to Rick. "You will be riding with me number four. There is one more part of your initiation tonight."

Faruq
It was easy for Faruq to find a servant. The servant wasn't quick, though not slow either. Somewhere in between, certainly not as rushed as when Faruq had asked for blood. He had a blue ball-point pen, and a sticky note pad.

Claire
The room was thinning out. The Prince had disappeared, and the Tremere had left. Hayden Cross was talking to Rogan now, and Sean and two of his harpies appeared to be getting ready to leave. The red head and Iris were standing and speak, both with predatory looks in their eyes.

Cassidy was still sitting at the table, fiddling with a piece of paper.

Erica
While the others wrap up, feel free to write Erica going back to the firm if you want. If not, you have 9 exp points to spend on the night. It's a bit more than what I'll usually give, but since the preludes went so well, I'm being generous.:smallcool:

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Biting his tongue to avoid replying that he had been elevated to number three before his embrace, Rick nods and follows the elder vampire he still can't think of as anything but a child. He's not accustomed to taking orders from kids, but he's also no fool. Seeing what happened to Faruq made it very clear that new kindred were expected to know their place.

He wonders what part of initiation is left. Quenton apparently had been under the impression that Henry would not want to have anything to do with him until tomorrow. Unless his sire had lied(which, Rick admits, is still a strong possibility) Henry had apparently taken an interest in him sooner than expected. Whether this was a good thing or not remained to be seen.
He enters the limo, remaining silent until spoken to.

Play this kid's game. He reminds himself. Even Quenton seems to fear and respect him. Maybe I can get him to answer a few questions for me later on.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
At this late hour, the car ride into the central business district of Havensworth was quick and uneventful. Stepping out of the vehicle, Erica reflexively took in a deep lungful of the chilly pacific northwest night air. As soon as she'd retrieved her bag and closed the car door, the driver sped off without a word, leaving the streets utterly deserted except for a street cleaner a block away. The stars were invisible under the street lamps, but she turned towards what she thought was east. The sun would be rising in an hour or so, she guessed. Only a few hours ago, she'd stood at the base of these same steps preparing for the interview of her life. Now, she wasn't even sure she could still be considered alive... her thoughts turned to the new swimsuit she'd already purchased and the hours she'd put in at the gym all spring... Memorial Day barbeques were definitely out. A pang of regret lanced through her, but she stuffed it deep down inside, where it couldn't do any harm. The street cleaner had moved on, and now the city was completely silent in the pre-dawn darkness, the stillness encroaching in on her. Self-preservation kicked in, and Erica hurried up the handicapped ramp, bag rolling behind her, and tapped on the locked double doors somewhat more insistently than she might have.

A security guard glanced through the glass and opened the door, a blast of dehumidified climate controlled air exhaling into the night.

"Good morning Ms. Lee," he said, smiling a bit too cheerfully, "we've been expecting you. I'll show you to your room."

The guard led her up through a similar route as she had taken earlier in the evening, but Erica would be hard pressed to remember the way on her own in the light, let alone by the lone flashlight the guard carried. She thought she recognized the door to Kirsh's study, but it was difficult to tell in the darkness. Finally, the guard stopped by an unremarkable door and unlocked it using one of the keys attached to his belt. He stepped inside and flicked on the lights, revealing a furnished room dominated by a queen size bed on one side and a modest wooden desk on the other.

"Here we are," he said, "this is one of our guest rooms. There's a bathroom in the back if you need to wash up. Mr. Kirsch will see you first thing tomorrow evening. If there's anything else you need, just dial zero."

Erica nodded.

"Thanks, uhh.. Randy," she said, glancing at his name tag and half-wondering if she should give him a tip.
"Anytime ma'am," he replied, smiling again as he closed the door and locked it behind him. Erica flipped the deadbolt and hefted her bag onto the bed. She unpacked quickly, hanging her clothes in the closet and moving the bag beneath the desk before stripping down and taking a long, hot shower. Afterwards, she wiped the steam from the mirror and studied her visage.

"This is how I will look, forever," she thought.

She braced herself for the shock of uncomfortably cold air on stepping out of the bathroom, but it never really came. Eternal youth and no more freezing gooseflesh... perks of being undead, she supposed.

"Sunrise will be coming soon," she thought as she crawled beneath the covers, "I wonder if I'll dream, or drift to sleep, or just fall unconscious or-"

xp spent, character sheet updated.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Appraising her remaining options Claire didn't care for any of them. Rogan was still talking but the room was emptying out. After the argument with Danielle her less then ample patience was all but expended. Claire headed for Rogan and the other Primogen.

Claire felt like the many many events of the evening were begining to catch up with her. It was a strange sensation, like she could run a marathon and feel nothing more then a casual stroll. Not exhaustion, not out of breath, no runner's high, a complete dissociation from physical effort. Mentally though, mentally Claire was drained, and knew it was all going to catch up to her very soon.

Approaching Claire made no move to interrupt whatever Rogan was doing, but made a point to cross his line of sight. Hopefully he'd be done soon.

[daelrog]

Claire

Rogan noticed Claire and hailed her over. "Claire, I'd like you to meet Hayden Cross."

Hayden smiled. "Hello Claire, from what Rogan says I'm sure you'll fair better than his other childer."

Rogan smiled back, though his seemed to be less pleasant. "You amuse yourself easily. I'm glad the loss of your own childer hasn't dulled you."

"I lost him years ago, Rogan. His final death was just closure." She leaned close. "And you should know of anyone that I stay sharp."

They both chuckled at their inside joke, or was it a joke. "Come Claire, Victor's waiting for us. We'll stay at his place tonight."

Rick

As soon as Henry and Rick sat down, the car started moving. Henry gave Rick a look that unsettled him. It was not anger, or malice behind Henry's eyes. It was curiousity, but the kind of passing curiousity that a person might have watching a fly on the wall. Henry looked upon Rick as if the detective's significance was equal to that of a blade of grass.

"So, Quenton's humor has given me a low-grade investigator, a crusader against evil. Drink this, it is Clan tradition." He handed Rick a very small vial of blood. The container was glass, but it was finely made. There was blood inside it. "Drink it, and then we'll speak."

[Soras Teva Gee]

"A pleasure to meet you Mr Cross," Claire said erring on the side of polite address, Rogan apparently had no last name but still seem wise to assume most other's did, "I shall certainly make the attempt, but will leave time itself to be the true judge."

Claire ignored the quip about previous childer. Very pointedly actually. She was very interested in the matter but it was something she would bring up with Rogan in private. The confirmation of her earlier guess was still too much of an unknown. Something told her that the implied loss didn't bother Rogan like it might a normal person, but still better to know what path she was walking down just in case there was some social landmine buried there. She didn't want to bandy any more words tonight anyways.

Thankfully Rogan voided any need to with what Claire really wanted to hear. They were leaving. Still Victor's place? She had her own place thank you very much. She could only hope it was somewhat better kept then Victor himself. Still like so much else she clearly would have little choice in the matter. Her own ride wasn't here, something she would make a point to avoid in the future.

"Gladly," she said instead.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Squirming, Rick struggled to hold Henry's gaze. It was that freaky juxtaposition, the child's body with the ancient mind.

He opens his mouth to argue with Henry, but quickly closes it. Disagreement was not a way to a long unlife, it seemed. Besides, the boy's words were mostly accurate. He was a low rate investigator, surviving by tailing unfaithful spouses and rebellious teens. As for a crusader against evil, he was guilty as charged there, delusional as his quest may be. Apparently Henry did not view this as a positive.

He drinks the blood, the action both unnerving him for how he did not even need to consider it, and filling him with an amazing pleasure. He closes his eyes, getting lost in the rapture of it all. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, and Rick regains control, not wanting to appear weak in Henry's presence.

"Mr. Sanderson, is it? I'll tell you what I told Quenton. Me being number four on your little list only serves to give me more of a drive to prove to you all that you made the right decision. I believe my actions going forward will speak for themselves."

Tough talk. Thought Rick. Now all I have to do is back it up. Easier said than done.

[daelrog]

Rick

Henry's mood brightens slightly at seeing Rick take the blood without question, and with Rick's claim to prove himself. To Rick's guess, Henry's mood move from a two out of ten to a solid three.

"Yes, you will."

The car hit a bump in the road, and Henry muttered something under his breath. He focused back on Rick. "You may already have an inclination, but we are not like other kindred. Other kindred claim to be descended from Caine, a foolish notion if yo uask me, though it's the only story that's survived since the earliest days of history. Our Clan is self made, we took kindred vitae for our own shy of a millenia ago. Whereas other Clans are wracked with a curse, such as a hideous visage, or madness, we hold none.

"Other kindred are self serving. Did you watch how the Sheriff and the disgusting, fat degenerate danced around each other? They are of the same Clan, but you would not think it the way they undermined each other. Did you see how the Ventrue chose to embrace one of their enemies?

"Whereas the other childer will be running around the city like headlless chickens, you will be given purpose. You will become an instrument to further our ends. Don't feel threatened, every tool has their purpose. Just as I would use a wrench to dig a hole, I wouldn't ask you to murder someone in cold blood. Trent can do that for me."

Henry gave a tired sigh. "Tomorrow night, you will be given a assignment. You will drop your mortal affairs, and close down your office, it's not necessary any more. I will pay your salary from now on. You will see little of me though, I have my own research. However, I wished to speak to you personally on one matter, one that I do not trust Quenton with."

He folded his fingers together and leaned towards Rick. "You will not trust any kindred outside our Clan. You may work with them, learn from them, even dabble in their games if you wish, but you will not trust them. Is that clear?"

Claire

Claire and Rogan made their way to the front, where Victor was waiting. The car ride wasn't long, less than twenty minutes, into the bad part of town. Victor's home was a run down apartment complex. On the way to the room they passed a trio of drug addicts, and more than a couple shady looking characters. No one bothered them though.

The apartment itself smelled a bit foul. Claire ntoiced immediately that the windows were completely borded up.

"We will discuss this matter of my bank account tomorrow, and go on your first hunt." Rogan fell almost immediately to sleep after that.

[Strawberries]

Amy, Danielle

Amy takes a look around, noticing that most people have left. For a moment, there is a flash of a memory, very clear in her head: her kindergarten teacher lecturing her on how impolite it was to stand in a corner whispering with her little friends and ignoring the other children. Flat Face and mrs Appleton. Really, the similarities are uncanny. What's wrong with my brain tonight? She bites the inside of her cheeks to avoid chuckling - and notices distractely that she doesn't have teeth back there anymore. Strange. She doesn't remember them falling off, but then again, she remembers very little beside the pain.

Outwardly,Amy just nods in acknowledgement, turns towards Danielle with an encouraging smile and waits for the other Nosferatu to take the lead towards the exit.

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy

"Sure", Danielle followed along, giving her time to think, questions, apartment, explanation to mom, hunter ... at the thought of hunter she spoke up "I would still like to retrieve the knife I had at the start of the night please", she had plans for that knife that might help her if everything worked out and she had no intention of losing it through meekness.

Still it was only one part, she would need blood to survive and attacking innocent people did not sit well with her ... but squaring that circle might be doable while still helping people if she played it right.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

So, apparently Henry intended to put him to work. That suited Rick fine, especially when it became clear he wouldn't be sent to do any of the more nasty jobs. Not that he approved of murders being committed, mind you, but he had learned an important lesson from Faruq. The investigator intended to keep his mouth shut, do his job and earn the trust of his superiors. Maybe then he would be given enough authority to change things from within.

"I understand. I look forward to working for you, if you feel it's suited to my particular talents." He keeps his reply simple, judging Henry to be the type who disapproves of needless questions or rambling answers. Best to be his tool for now, prove his worth.

However, he does take note of the fact that Henry had not trusted Quenton to deliver a message to him. Apparently there were some unfaithful even in the Tremere. Interesting, especially after Sanderson had given a long speech about how they were the only ones Rick could trust.

Speaking of which, standard cult procedure. Devalue the non members of the cult as the Other who cannot be trusted. Not sure what if any trust can be put in Henry's advice, but he makes a good point. The others are probably hearing speech's similar to this right now. Probably not a good idea to go to them with anything that's classified clan business.

He remains silent for a few seconds, considering the risks, before speaking again.

"Can I ask of you a question about my embrace, Mr. Sanderson? I spoke with Quenton, but he seemed to not know anything about my experience." He phrases it this way, hopeful that it will serve as a tantalizing hook for Henry, from which Rick can drag an answer out of.

[Worlok]

Faruq

Nodding his thanks - or nodding in a way that one might have construed to mean his thanks, at any rate - Faruq accepted the writing tools, turned around... and found Claire leaving with whoever that one was again. Right. Obviously. Well, I guess there isn't much for me to do here, then. Postponing Operation First Contact for later, he wrote "Cool with me keeping the writing tools?" on one of the notes, and handed it to the servant that had brought them.

Should it be, he would pocket his new acquisition and leave for the car. There were things to do, thoughts to have, and plans to make, and he would do that on the drive - seeing how mansions like this one rarely stood right in the middle of cities, and the only Flockton-related holdings in Havensworth proper were the AFCo Electronics stores in the western and central parts, the office block near the harbor, and the appartment building he himself occupied, and these guys did not seem like the types to drive him all the way over to Seattle every morning, it would, by his estimate, be about an hour until they got there, after all.

[daelrog]

Amy, Danielle

The group left in short order. Danielle and Slick, who was still using his ability to cover his visage were in the back of the pick up. Mike had his face back on, and even Flat Face covered a little. It looked like he had a normal nose on an otherwise very ugly face.

They arrived at the apartment to the shrill cries of the 'land lady'. "I smell a Clanless, why is there a Clanless."

Flat Face yelled back. "Shut up hag! Jean's order!"

"You will bring death upon us ingrates!"

Flat Face ignored them. "The place is big enough and we're the only tenants. Pick your place, make sure there aren't any open windows close." Mike stayed behind but Slick and Flat Face started moving up the stairs to their own places.

Faruq
Byron was waiting for Faruq in the back. "We'll be there shortly." He didn't seem against speaking to Faruq, but didn't say anything more on his own.

Can we say half an hour? I don't know if the city's quite that big. It's a little before 4am, so traffic won't be much.

Rick

"Speak."

[Worlok]

Sure thing. Faruq is given to exaggerations, after all. :smallbiggrin: My actual IC post might take me a while still, but it should be up by this time tomorrow, at the latest. :smallredface:

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"In the time between when I was embraced and came back, I was suddenly cast outside of my body. I could clearly see it, but I was in some sort of... spiritual realm, surrounded by these shadow monsters. They approached me, pleading with me in a language I never heard, yet somehow understood. Then I came back to reality.

Quenton told me some of our kind have dreams when we turn. But this... I don't think it was a dream. I know it actually happened. Have you heard of anything similar to my case?"

[daelrog]

Rick

"Most likely a horrible nightmare. I hear that Irishman can do that people." Harry leaned back, but then thought again. "It is possible that it was no mere dream, but I have never heard of something like that. You can use our library to investigate the matter yourself if you wish. You may also want to speak to the Giovanni. However, any deal you make with them will not involve the rest of us."

[dancrilis]

I am not sure of Danielle got the knife back or not.
Danielle, Amy

Danielle had been silent on the trip over, thinking about the evening and how it had gone, she had freaked out her mother a bit, been kidnapped, killed, turned into a blood drinking monster, was nearly killed again, stood trial, survived, likely freaked out her mother a bit more, mingled with other blood drinking monsters to an extend, and was now staying in some flats owned by one of the groups.
By the time she processing all this the van had stopped.
"Nice meeting you too" she muttered to the voice again why was the supposedly weakest member of the society such a threat.

She raised her voice to the retreating figure, "Mr Face, I would like to learn these basics now if possible, and ask any questions that I have", she moved to follow him, "Talk to you later Amy", she likely needed time to talk to her sire, and she couldn't think of what Mike had done to Amy without being reminded of what Billy had done to her in greater depth then she wanted.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"I think I'll take you up on using the library for some research. On my own time, of course." Replies Rick. He raises an eyebrow, but does not ask about the Giovanni, whoever they were. Henry did not seem the type to enjoy answering questions, so the detective decided not to push his luck.

Unless Henry speaks to him again, he remains silent, not wanting to antagonize his new "boss."

[Strawberries]

Amy and Danielle

So apparently the old gossip wasn’t really a old gossip - or better said she was, but a very different kind of old than what Amy thought at first. Smell? We can smell this sort of things now? She hadn’t noticed, but then again, it’s not like she had been very focused on it.

She nods at Danielle, and turns to Mike. Seeing him like he appeared when she didn’t know what he was is...a bit unnerving, if she has to be honest with herself. She scrutinises him, trying to find tell-tale signs that his appearance is a disguise, and can’t find any. “Mike, uhm, can we talk for a bit, please? Properly?” By that meaning not sitting on a wooden floor surrounded by mirrors or whispering at a so-called ‘party’.

[daelrog]

Sorry, missed that bit. Yes, Danielle received her knife back on the way out by the same checkpoint that took it.

Danielle, Amy

The unseen woman shrieked from whatever hiding hole she was in. "It speaks! It dares to speak!"

"My name isn't Mr. Anything, and I don't feel like it right now." Almost on cue he scratched his ass. "I'm tired, and feel like sleeping. Just don't sleep anywhere where the sun might reach you, that's all you need to know right now."

Mike was a little more responsive. "Yeah, sure." He led Amy up to his own pad, where she had wanted to go earlier in the night. It was a fairly simple place, a few posters, mostly of celebrities from the 20s to the 50s, lining the walls. He had a fairly new computer, a screensaver of twsiting rainbow colors. He sat on his bed. "What would you like to talk about?" He still had his pretty face on.

Rick

Henry did not mind the silence. RIck could tell that the boy-elder was deep in thought, occassionally muttering something to himself in a language he had never heard before.

Henry was quick to leave when the vehicle stopped, and Queton was waiting for Rick. "So, you have a choice Rick. Share a few drinks with Trent and I, or call it an early night. Your place is pretty spartan, but we'll get your old stuff moved in in a week or so."

[Strawberries]

Amy

She’s not an 'it', you ugly… Amy stops right there, without finishing the insult in her mind. She has to come up with some new repertoire. 'Ugly' anything isn’t something that seems appropriate as a derogatory term anymore. And right now, she doesn’t think it’s wise to pick a fight. Plus, old ladies, vampires or not, usually are like that…and ignoring them is often the best strategy.

Once in Mike’s room, Amy looks around, and can’t help a half-smile when she sees the computer. The place is comforting in its normality. She search for a place to sit down, sitting down on the bed next to Mike if she can’t find a chair. "Plenty of things, Mike, but I want to ask you something, first" She's thought about it on the car ride, and it's something very important that she needs to know. Sure, she could dance around the issue, trying to figure it out on her own, but she's tired, she’s tense, and she feels like being blunt. She was never very good at doing ‘subtle’ anyway, at least as far as these things are concerned. "When I met you in that diner, tonight, well, I could argue with you and send you to hell without worrying about horrible things happening to me". The image of Faruq and Flat Face is still very clear in her mind. "But you're my sire now, and it's obvious that us being equal is not the case anymore. So, I'd like you to tell me where I stand with you, please. Can I speak openly and tell you what I think, or do I have to worry about being made an example of, like that boy at the party?"

[dancrilis]

Danielle

She glared after him then turned on her heel and took a step towards the main door, she had agreed to this for instruction not to have her time wasted but some knife wielding maiming psycho.

But she stopped at after the first step, I need to learn this stuff and he might teach me some of it, he can afford to me a jerk about it, and I can't, she went looking for a room, finding one with a mattress on the ground and some blankets that looked clean enough, centre of the building so no windows were available, and the light flickered occasionally.

She needed to burn of tension physical exercise would do it, but first thing is first she took the knife out and examined it carefully for any telling signs of origin, engravings, the quality of the edge finally holding it cautiously extended from her body to drop it if needed "Adustum" she whispered.


I suspect this will achieve nothing, but just in case I will stop there.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

The choice is easy for Rick. "I'll have a few drinks." He still had a lot to learn about this society. Why not start now?

[daelrog]

Amy

Mike sighed. "You can say whatever you want to me Evaz, it's all right. Things sometimes get complicated when you get a lot of us together. Part of its pride, but the biggest thing is communication." He shook his head. "I don't know if it's the culture, or just part of the embrace, but things are never what they seem. The idiot was a good guinea pig for Jean to make his point. There were more threats thrown around that night than in the past two years combined, and Jean needed to tell them all he wasn't going to suffer it. The kid just spoke up at the perfect time. Don't get me wrong, he was going to catch hell for it one way or the other, but Jean wanted it on his own terms. Better for his tongue to get cut out by Flat Face than to be hunted down like a dog by Rogan.

"Just be careful what you say around others, and you can tell me what's on your mind afterwards."

Rick

Quenton was happy with the response, slapping Rick on the shoulder. They walked into the church, taking a detour to the right, and walking underneath the stairs. They went down four flights of stairs, four basements before stopped, and Rick saw at least another six flights going even further down.

Trent was already at the table, smoking a Cuban, shuffling the cards.

"Don't trust your hand, Rick, Trent's a terrible cheater."

"**** you. I'm a great cheater." Trent, the pissy, angry kindred from the party had apparently lightened his mood with some alcohol. "Come on newbie, tell me what you think of the merry band of rogues and theives in your beloved Havensworth."

[Strawberries]

Amy

Amy nods, and smiles. A honest-to-god, proper smile. From what little bit she has seen of Mike, she had suspected that...but better be on the safe side. It's not like she hasn't already be fooled enough by appearances, tonight.

"Thank you." She says, sincerely. And speaking on telling him whatever she wants, she may as well address the main thing that's creeping her out right now. "In that case, uhm... is there a reason why you're feeling the need to keep lying to me even now?" she motions to Mike's face, to clarify what she means.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Huh. Apparently we can still drink thing other then blood. Interesting
Rick takes a seat at the table, and responds to Trent. "Seems like Kindred society is as fractured as the mortal one. Everyone at that party was attempting to one up everyone else. Our clan seem fairly united, if nothing else." Hard to say if that's a benefit though.

"Anyone in particular I should stay away from? Besides Cassidy, I've already been warned about him."

[dancrilis]

Nothing from the knife, so that meant it was likely the man himself, oh well.

Still she would take it to an shop and see it if had any thing that someone more familiar might be able to tell her.

Satisfied with this she being to exercise hoping to burn off energy, but to no avail, her muscles didn't strain, there was no burn, she could physically hurt herself by going beyond her limits but it was the a healthy pain, and it did not burn energy.

She felt like crying but no tears would come, it finally truly sunk in she might look human think human but she was not human she was a dead thing and her body was clear on that.

She considered kicking the wall taking out her anger and grief in an act of rage, but the hormonal reaction was simply not there for such an outlet.

Mentally exhausted she curled up under the blankets fully clothed and closed her eyes, opening them a split second later and getting up and dragging the mattress to block the door, "no point in not being cautious" she muttered and then got in and fell asleep hoping it was all a nightmare.

[daelrog]

Sorry Dancrilis, don't know why I missed your post.

Danielle

It looked like a plain, ordinary knife, maybe found in a sporting goods store or something. It had a plain black handle and there was no design or brand on it.

Danielle dreamt of her sister.

Amy

A cold, resentful look crossed Mike's face for a moment, but it went away. He sighed, and as he did so his face warped back to its true form. "I'm sorry you think it's a lie Amy. It's our best protection. Is it a lie to want to walk out in public? A lie to want to be seen as a person? Would it have been better if I embraced you by jumping from the shadows, fangs and claws?" He let his body fall onto the bed, with his legs dangling off. "I'll teach you how to do it too. It will make being a kindred a lot easier."

Rick

"Hayden's a bit intense. As likely to rip your head off as mount you."

"Or maybe both, preying mantis style." Quenton interjected.

"Sean's just nasty to be around. So are the sewer rats."

"Sewer rats being sland for the Prince's clan."

"Yeah, yeah. Oh and this this corpse-looking thing on the outskirts of town. Not even a real Clan mind you, some ugly bastard offshoot. He's bad business. There's the fish-man. He gets angry pretty easily. Oh, and stay away from the Caitiff."

"The Caitiff have a bad history here, and well... most other places." Quenton tried to be a bit more diplomatic. "Not one's been in the city for over fifteen years without some big problem or another rising. Still, we have three now with the girl."

"You know, best thing is to avoid most of the kindred. Let them do their business, and they'll let you do yours. Now sit down."

As Trent started passing the cards. "So I heard that Faruq kid turned down Melanie's advances, tried to push her out a window?"

"Really? Damn shame for beautiful body like that to go to waste."

"You're telling me."

[Strawberries]

Amy

Amy shakes her head. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Mike, I’m not saying that isn’t useful, only that there is no need for it now. I mean, I know who you are now, don’t I? And...well... when you're disguised, it creeps me out a bit, actually.” she admits. She doesn’t exactly know how explain it, but knowing that she’s speaking to a mask gives her a very unpleasant feeling. “And forget what I said about waiting for me under my house, I was pretty pissed off with you at the time, and I meant something different anyway.” She’s still pissed off with him, to tell the truth, but at least he’s listening, and answering her questions, and she may as well give him the benefit of the doubt. “Never mind. But... thanks for wanting to teach me, and for the words you said at the ceremony before.” She understands that they’re both law and tradition, but still... Hell of a commitment to make.

She hesitates a bit, then carefully lowers herself on the bed, laying on one side and propping herself up with her elbow, to get to look at Mike at eye-level. She has a lots of questions, but some of them how exactly feeding off humans works, what is that can kill me now, what else can vampires do beside changing our face, what am I supposed to do with my job she supposes that he’s going to answer anyway whatever she asks them or not, so she chooses a more personal question. And to hell with respecting Mike’s privacy, the man has killed her and turned her into a horrid nightmare, he can take a bit of prodding. “Uhm... am I your first childe?” because if that’s the case, there's something he really should know.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"Avoid most of those people? You don't have to tell me twice." Rick replies with a grin. The truth was, he was perfectly happy not interacting with most of the kindred unless his work required it. Aside from the other newbie's, any of the established kindred could provably tear him apart for any perceived slight. Best not to risk it.

He listens as Trent describes Faraq's attempted murder of his sire. The guy seemed like a hot head. He would warrant either further investigation, or complete avoidance. Also odd was that they seemed to fear Danielle because of her clan. Rick's impression of the girl was that she was pretty harmless, but the anger and hate directed towards her suggested there might be something about her unique condition that gave reason for the unsettled mood. He'd need to investigate further before coming to any solid conclusions.

As for the others... Erica was still an enigma to him. Amy seemed nice, excluding her rather unfortunate appearance. She might be a useful contact. Same with Claire. She seemed to retain a healthy skepticism that Rick wagered would serve her well in this new life.

But that was enough thinking for one night. It had been along evening, and Rick welcomed the opportunity to relax. He plays cards with Quenton and Trent, focusing on the game.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire tripping like Faruq!

By the time they arrived Claire couldn't even must the will to care. This just played into what she'd already assumed about Victor. As soon as they were inside Claire stripped off her uncomfortable clothing and folded it aside, she'd need it at least a little more. First thing she promised herself would be a return to her own place. For now though all she wanted was sleep, everything else could wait. She swiftly followed Rogan into slumber.

It seemed vampires could in fact dream.


--*--

She was running. Her feet were alive with sensation, her muscles firing on all cylinders, hunger gnawed at her stomach... she was breathing heavily. The forest around her was bare, the trees empty of leaves. It glowed in the light of a full moon. No normal color though, this moon was blood red, casting a sanguine hue over everything. It was bright too, brighter then the moon had a right to be.

Didn't matter. She just had to run. Something was after her, Claire was not alone. She could here it, a rustle in the dead underbrush here, a shadow of movement there. Don't stop. Stop and you are dead. Claire ran. Rocks under her feet, moist earth, a thousand tiny pinpricks. She was barefoot, no she had not a stitch anywhere and felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment at the thought. No keep runnning, don't stop.

And so Claire ran, half blind and wincing with almost every step through these bloody woods. What was after her? No, didn't matter.

Seconds, minutes, hours, the chase stretched on it could have been any of those measures, it felt like an eternity. Yet the end came unexpectedly. Maybe a rock, maybe a root. Something clawed at her foot and Claire tumbled down. Hitting dirt she rolled and came to stop. Looking up in a blur of motion there pursuer appeared standing over Claire.

The figure was female but not human. The lines were human, lithe with lean muscle like a runner. The pursuer had a luscious mane of hair flowing down past her hips. Those were the things almost normal though. The hair glowed in the moonlight, pale white turned red in the gloom. Marking that runner's body were patches of fur, not body hair but wild thick growths spread across half the pursuers skin. The hands were too long, the nails having become thick pointed claws. The strangeness did not end there though. Through the pursurer man Claire could see two points out. Ears. Like over size a cat ears then stretched only too long and thin even then, they twitched independent of each other. A swishing sound reveal an honest to goodness tail on the beastial female, bristling with long hair. What drew Claire's attention most though was the eyes. They glowed red with the same light as the moon. And then the beast smiled as it stood over its prey, revealing canines far too large as the beast mouth twisted somehow into a viscous snarl that seemed to distort even the bones of the skull.

As the beast stood over Claire it purred, a cat taking pride in its meal before devouring it. As that terrible mouth open Claire realized something else. The pursuing beast under that distorting snarl, had her face. Realization dawned as the beast made a final leap. Clair felt fangs sink into her neck.


--*--

Claire came awake, feeling shocked. Only before she could even get her eyes open she felt a great pressure come over her, a draining exhaustion that pulled her back into sleep.

[daelrog]

Rick

They played cards for about half an hour. Quenton wasn't lying, Trent did cheat. However, Quenton didn't seem to fall for any of it, stating that he could read Trent's face like a billboard.

It was oddly casual. Quenton also learned that to get alcohol, one had to drink blood from a drunk mortal. Rumors of machines that could mix the two mechanically existed, but neither kindred believed it to be true, perhaps in another ten years. Trent was a deputy, and worked under Al Rowe as a side duty to his responsibilities to the Clan.

However, all three began to get tired, very fast. Trent passed out on the table, and Quenton groggily led Rick down a couple hallways to where there were some beds, pushing the detective slightly so that he collapsed on top of it. All went black.

Amy

"You're the second." Mike shook his head, and closed his eyes. "It didn't turn out so well the first time. I... would rather talk about it another night."

All we have left is a question or two more from Amy, and Faruq getting dropped off, and then we're set.

[Strawberries]

Amy

“Oh.” She’s sorry to hear that, but she isn’t sure what exactly are the right words to use in such cases. Instead, she opts to put a hand on Mike’s shoulder and squeeze a bit, in a comforting gesture “Uhm... keep that in mind for next time, then” she says “When someone’s in pain, and screaming for you, usually holding their hand helps a lot, you know? I...well, I might not have been so pissed off with you afterwards if you had done that.” But she smiles a bit as she says that, to show him that there are no hard feelings. That’s done anyway, she really doesn’t want to think about those ten minutes any more, and while that certainly begs the question of how and why Mike was embraced, that particular question is a bigger breach of privacy than she feels comfortable with, at least at the moment.

“But... speaking of that, there’s a thing I wanted to ask you about Danielle. Because I’m not really sure I get how that ‘clanless’ thing works. I mean... you should be able to tell what clan she is, shouldn’t you?” That’s another thing she has thought about on the trip here, actually, and try as she might, she hasn’t managed to understand it on her own.

This can be my last question for tonight, meaning I’d just need another couple of posts to wrap up Amy’s evening. I wanted for Amy to speak in private with Danielle, too, but we can do that first thing tomorrow evening, I suppose, if Dancrilis is alright with it

EDIT
Oh, and there is a reasoning behind Amy asking that particular question... she has decent mental attributes, I figured a bit of deductive reasoning wouldn't be too OOC for her. :smalltongue:

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Something nagged at the back of Erica's mind as she drifted off to sleep.

"Did I remember to turn off my alarm clock?" she thought as slumber overtook her, "too tired to look for it now... if it goes off, it goes off."

[dancrilis]

No worries daelrog, I figured that the knife would not ignite at word command anyway.

Strawberries: Well Amy could likely find Danielle tonight if she wanted, or tomorrow would be grand, as potentially having a higher humanity then the others they might very well be the first to wake up.

Her dreams were fragmented, and each was not quite right.

As children they were playing in a park, but other then the two of them the park was empty and it was late at night.

The scene with the Jackal replayed but while the mask was the same it was Katrina holding the swords.

Herself as she was now hunting her sister through the woods her sister still at age 12 as she was when she disappeared.

A Christmas dinner with only herself her mother and Katrina, she was drinking red wine, her sister eating a stake, and her mother hosting the meal oblivious to her daughters sizing one another up throughout.

Katrina as the girl at the party, and as the child at the table.

The creepiest was where both were drinking the blood of the other, standing at the scene of a massacre which she knew they had caused, bodies hanging from the ceilings and littered across the floor, feelings of love, disgust, horror, joy and longing all mixed together.

These scenes played out together or flowed from one to another and back again.

[Worlok]

Faruq sat down, heaved another sigh - he would apparently do that a lot from now on, he reckoned with a hint of fatalist amusement - and began scribbling on his blank notes as the drive went on, thoughts and keywords and the names he read on street signs in an attemt to get some semblance of order into his scrambled thoughts. For the most part, and as far as was readily apparent, though, he would simply gaze out of the window, hum to himself, writing and trying to chill out as much as was humanly, undeadly, possible.

However, ultimately an idea dawned on him. It was about five minutes in, and the car was just heading down one of the longer streets of Havensworth, without having rounded a corner or curve in a while, when he pulled up another empty paper, transfixed Byron with a glance, and wrote down, in English: "So. No offense, little space on these, will be blunt. I don't understand. You a 'Kindred' too?" This one, he handed to the man, attempting an awkward, shut-mouth smile with debatable success. Can't exactly say I'm happy being here, but hell, it doesn't hurt to be polite.

Can he silently regrow his tongue within half an hour while pretending it isn't happening and keeping quiet? If so, that's what he will do.

[daelrog]

Amy

Mike nodded at Amy's suggestion. He thought a bit for her question on Danielle. "So, there's the theory on us descending from biblical Caine, right? Well, even the skeptics are pretty sure that the curse is descended from something. You see, we have a generation, it's sort of a measurement of our strength. It's how potent our blood is. It's been measured since old times, but it boils down to how much vitae, blood in kindred lingo, can hold, and how much blood we can use at once. Well, that, and how powerful we can eventually be, given enough time, though that's really for those scary bastards of really low generations.

"I'm of the 9th generation, which puts you at the 10th.

"You see, once you get to the really high generations, like Danielle, who's 14th, the blood becomes really thin. Her Clan's curse becomes so subtle that you can't even tell anymore. That, and sadly there are enough kindred who embrace and then abandon their childer that there's no way of knowing who sired him. Some pale, dark-haired stranger doesn't really narrow it down.

"Amy, I know it's probably on your mind, of why all these old and powerful kindred are freaking out over one high school girl. There's two reasons, on opposite ends. As I said, 14th generation is really high. Everything becomes more difficult. Because of that, she's not going to be able to protect herself as well as other kindred, which makes her a liability. Yes, the whole Jackal thing wasn't her fault, but it was her sire's fault, another Caitiff. They overextend themselves thinking they're as powerful as a normal kindred, and they find out they're not. It usually causes a breach in the masquerade, and that threatens everyone.

"The other problem..." Mike looked legitimately scared. "Is diablerie. There's a way to increase one's generation. You feed off another kidnred of higher generation until there's no blood left. Then you feed a little more. Some say it's taking their curse, others their soul. Regardless, it makes you stronger. A lot of Caitiff, not liking being at the bottom of the barrel, resort to diablerie to get power."

Faruq
Roll manipulation + performance. I mean, a lump of flesh is forming in his mouth. However, it will probably be uncomfortable than painful, so he can do it without being seen, though to be honest I don't know why he's hiding it.

Byron shook his head. "I'm what kindred refer to as a ghoul. I'm a mortal who drinks kindred blood once or twice a month. I am still a living, breathing human, can step out into the sun. However, most of the strengths of kindred are denied to us as well."

[Strawberries]

Amy

Amy doesn't answer immediately, instead taking a little time to process all that load of information. So, he is saying that if a Nosferatu of high enough...generation tries to make someone a vampire, the result would be someone who still looks normal? And the other thing Mike has said... "That is seriously messed up" she finally says, shuddering."And I mean this whole thing, starting from the beginning of this evening."

She pushes herself up to a sitting position, bringing her knees to her chest. She is careful to kick off her shoes first, to avoid bringing dirt on Mike's duvet "But if that's the concern, then the way everyone has been treating her isn't very smart, is it? I mean, if you're an elder, then the last thing you should want is for her to have a beef with you, right?" Well, unless you're confident enough that she'd never be able to touch you, but in that case, why be scared in the first place?

She thinks over everything for another couple of seconds, but when she asks the next question, it is on impulse "But there are some good things too, aren't there, Mike? Tell me it's not all pain and fear and...violence". Tell me that it was worth it that I didn't die this evening

[Worlok]

In order to not let Byron know he's regrowing it. He's testing out options, here. All will be brought to light in time. :smallbiggrin:
No way you're a ghoul, bro. Ghouls are like nine feet tall, live underground and eat corpses, far as I know. 'sides, being tougher than three of you is hardly that badass, now. he thought, but, not being able to talk, kept it to himself. But let's just accept that for now. Thinking of talking, by the way...

He had to do something about the missing tongue - now, granted, the notion of keeping it stunted and becoming some sort of silent communicator once his new vampire mind-reading powers kicked in had some appeal. But then, these people wanted him to serve as a sort of liaison, if he'd gotten that right, and in any case, he'd have to make some phone calls first chance he got. So he focused. Pictured his tongue. Pictured it regrowing. Pictured Flat-Face accidentally castrating himself, but pushed the thought aside. Pictured his tongue again. Closed his mouth as tightly as possible. And pushed, willing the blood to rebuild the flesh, because if the previous ordeals had been any indication, a great many of these powers seemed to work based on stress, or some other effort of the mind.

And handed Byron another note: "Strengths, you say? Like that mind-reading thing, or that briefcase thing Melanie did? And why would you drink their blood?"

Also, rollan':

[roll0]

Oh well. Worth a shot.

[daelrog]

Faruq

"Mind reading?" Byron quirked an eyebrow. "I suppose there are powers that come close to that. And I really don't know what you mean by the briefcase thing. I wasn't privy to what happened during your embrace." He took a closer look at the last one. "Because it makes me immortal. Because it makes me stronger. Really, for a drink that's a little salty and bitter once a month I get to be a lot more than I ever was as mortal. Besides, if I get off the blood I'll age immediately. Doesn't seem like a hard decision to me."

With zero successes, Byron will notice, but it's not something which is going to be important to him.

Amy

"Yeah, I guess you have kindred culture down on that one, don't ya?" Mike was half sarcastic. "But you know, you're not going to find too many kindred over a hundred years who are going to suck up their pride and be nice to the lowest of the low, not when are history books are full of mentioning Clanless as heralds of the end time."

He leans back. "There's a lot of good things, Evaz. I was born at the turn of the century, even fought in World War II. I've gotten to see the world change and grow. I've made friendships which have lasted for decades. I've travelled across the United States. Sure, I may be ugly, but that's something I can cover up when I need to, and it's not the only perk of being a kindred. There's a lot of good that comes from it."

[Strawberries]

Amy (And, by the end of the post, Danielle)

Amy makes a little, lopsided smile. That’s true, she gets to live forever, which means seeing things, and... knowing things that she wouldn’t have dreamt of, but after everything she’s seen this evening, it had been somehow difficult to focus on the positive. And what Mike said about friendships - she suddenly remembers Duke, and wonders if he is a kindred too, or a ghoul, or simply a conniving human He said that he’s known him since he was a child, and he didn’t seem -that- old.

She registers the words Mike used about the end of times, but very consciously decides to not ask, at least for now. She doesn’t think she can take much more earth-shattering news tonight, even if just in the form of legend. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll ask, or even the day after, maybe. I need sleep, and I need time to think about all this. She smiles, a little more fully. “Thank you. I... really needed to hear that.” She scoots forward, so that she is sitting on the edge of the bed, ready to get up. “Uhm... Mike, I think I’ll go find a place to sleep, now.” And she wants to check on Danielle, too. Her night has been probably worse than mine, she is alone, and Flat Face doesn’t seem the type to answer questions, or to reassure her in any way. “Thank you for answering my questions. Have a good-” she stops suddenly, thinks about it, and chuckles. Lots of vocabulary adjustments are in order,it seems. “Geeze, I don’t even know how to say it anymore. Sleep well, Mike.”

The following applies if Mike doesn’t have anything else to say that would keep her in the room, otherwise, I can retcon their last interaction and say this simply happens later. And Dancrilis, I think we can RP a bit of interaction this evening, if you’re up for it. :smallsmile:

When she exits Mike's apartment, she gets down again to the ground floor, then gets in the direction she’s seen Danielle take, keeping an eye on the doors to see if she can find the teen “Danielle?” she calls, softly, knocking at the closed doors. And moreover... she feels foolish, but she inhales, too, at each door. The disembodied voice had claimed she could smell the girl, and she has no reason to doubr it, or not to try it herself.

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy

They were playing hind and seek as children, her sister was seeking and she was hiding this time, she was scared but she didn't know why, it was an old building and she was hiding in a closet, 'Danielle' her sister called followed by two taps at a door down the corridor, her breathing slowed, 'Danielle' closer this time and another two taps, 'Danielle' again wait that was not her sisters voice, now right outside the closet 'Danielle' she was panicked where was her sister, they had been alone, who was this, what was going on.

Her eyes shot open in panic, and the dreams faded away.

Dream panic was replaced by a more immediate panic of figuring out where she was, but that came flooding back a second later.

Had it been a night, her body felt the same, no more or less immediately tired, no hungrier.

She heard herself being called from further down the corridor, the dream invader had moved on ... she was tempted to let them go but she didn't want to sleep again just yet. She softly pushed the mattress out of the way when and opened the door a crack to sneaking a peak out she saw Amy moving down the corridor.

"Hi Amy" she called softly then stepped back inside to allow the other woman entrance if she wanted.

[Strawberries]

Amy, Danielle

Amy half-startles at the sound of a door opening up the corridor, but realises that it is the person she's looking for, and quickly retraces her steps. "Hi, Danielle" She hesitates, then enters the apartment, looking around and noticing the matress, the covers and the... not much else.

She doesn't know how to start or what to say: she's really never been good at this sort of things. She supposes the truth may be a good start. She takes a deep breath "I'm sorry about what happened to you" she says. They've all had it rough, probably, but as far as she's concerned, Danielle takes the cake "How are you feeling?"

[dancrilis]

How are you feeling?, it was a simple question and normally it would have received a simple answer or fine, or ok, or some other generic word that meant nothing.

This time it was different this time it had a deeper reaction, "Bad", she wanted to stop there but carried on, "I was ready for them to kill me, I thought I had sold my life well told them don't kill people it is a bad move from a logic standpoint. I was prepared for it. But no they let me live" she almost spat the last word.
"I don't know what I am, what I can do, what I need to do, what I want to do, none of it. I was sleeping before you came in, my body has no mental clues as to whether it was a day, half an hour, longer or shorter I have no clue", she was pacing now ranting almost.
"I dreamed of my sister. My memories of her are normally a source of comfort to me" stopping and looking at Amy "this time ... this time they were creepy, I don't remember much but there were bodies and blood and hunting and a hunter ... and Christmas cake", now she was fully ranting, "I will never be able to enjoy Christmas cake again, never be making dinner with my mother - who the kindred community were so kind as to call up" her voice scathing "while pretending to be me - at midday Christmas day, enjoying some sweets and talking about the meaningless items"

Her voice took on a dangerous bitter edge, "She has been through a lot and now her remaining daughter is going to shun her break her hopes for attending college and ultimate fail at what she would consider a good life", a nights worth of pent up aggression was being let out in words, "I'll never kiss someone romantically let alone maybe do more" she paused almost embarrassed at having mentioned that but the anger drove her to her next random point.
"No Olympics" pointing a finger at Amy to make a point "I could have possible went to Barcelona next year you know", dropping her hand.
Lowering her eyes "I can't cry, I wanted to, thought I needed to after today - I can't. I used to privately sometimes - and yea I know it makes me look weak - it was something of a release, something private and comforting something that no matter how bad things were I could feel human in the dark on my own ... guess it is fitting that I can't now".

Getting a bit of a grip back "I can't beat the Jackal", she voice flat "I know I can't", but I am going to try anyway she stated to herself, "I have agreed to deal with him and the only way is to kill him ... I agreed to kill a man who is actually protecting humanity from blood drinking monsters. I guess it places him in the right and me in the wrong ... even if I could beat the Jackal I am not sure I want to", realising something "and I have just realised I shouldn't have mentioned any of this to you", thinking for a second "I saw that the others put on more human faces when they left the party, I don't know if they are limited to one face. Which means that it is possible that you are Flak come to test me under a different guise", rolling her eyes "screw it at this point I don't care".

"How can you stand Mike" it was an accusation rather then a question "nearly everything I have just whined about applies to you do and you have to actually stomach putting up with the monster that did it to you", her voice was truly hateful now "I hate Billy - he is dead I saw it - but I wish there was something I could do to make him suffer, he deliberately choose me and I don't know why, he planed it by putting people in danger. I hope he is suffering horribly, but I wish I could see it" this time thinking about him her hand collided with the wall at full force the movement fast and sure "I tried to help people and this happened to me, he did this to me", now a mixture of a whisper and a mutter "how can you stand him?" this time it was a question.

She sank into the corner of the room beside where she had hit, "So yea bad", lifting her head to look at the other woman, "sorry for offloading like that and thanks for listening". She wanted to stand up but couldn't bring herself to "how are you doing, can't have been a pleasant night for you either".

[Strawberries]

Amy and Danielle

Amy lets Danielle finish without saying anything, but at the end of her rant, she sits down next to the young woman and awkwardly puts an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in a hug, if she doesn’t resist. She’s very careful to not make the hug too tight or difficult to escape from: she’s aware of how she looks, and that being hugged by her can also be constructed as the opposite of a comforting experience, but she doesn’t have the words to make Danielle feel better, and this is the only thing she can think of doing.

“It's been only half an hour, and I... I am not Flat Face” And by the way, where does ‘Flak’ come from? “And you can talk to me about anything, I’m not going to tell him.” Actually, Danielle makes a good point “Uhm... I don’t know if they - we are limited to one face. I only saw Mike and Slick changing into the same...mask, but then again, they haven’t explained it to me, yet.” Yeah, creepy. Definitely creepy - what she had said to Mike about being weirded out was not an exaggeration.

“Mike... I don’t hate Mike, Danielle. I was pissed off with him, still am, a bit, but... he's not a monster. He doesn't act like a monster.” Amy shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know what’s a lie and what is true with him. I mean, earlier tonight he asked me out for a beer and told me he worked in retail!” Amy barks a laugh, which is actually a little disbelieving. She can’t remember the last time she had an heart-to-heart with a girlfriend. Fifth grade, probably. “But... I think I trust him. On the important stuff.” She doesn’t say why, doesn’t add that Mike had seemed devastated by the way he has had to Embrace her. That’s Mike's private stuff, and she prefers to keep it between her and her sire. “And... I didn’t have plans to go to the Olympics. Maybe that’s it. If I was still... well, alive, tomorrow I would get up, get to work for ten hours behind a stupid counter in a stupid grocery shop, and then probably being too tired to do anything but go to sleep. I can’t help but think that this can be something better, you know? I mean...” she hesitates “...we don’t have to kill. That was one of the first things I asked. If we can survive without killing people, maybe there can be something good that comes from it, can't it?” She remembers Mike’s words Seeing the world change and travelling and knowing people. “But I...used to see my parents maybe once a year. I love my sis, but we aren’t very close...we speak on the phone maybe twice a month. I can’t imagine how it must be for you."

She rubs a bit Danielle's back in small circles. She does't know if it's of any comfort for the girl, but doing it is comforting for her, at the very least. "We'll have to figure it out, won't we? We'll have to figure out where we stand and what we want to do." That's exactly what she thought at her presentation, and the thought is still valid. "And, Danielle, the Jackal... I dunno if he's really that great hero. One of those bigwigs at the head table mentioned him killing a bunch of policemen - human policemen, I suppose. And..." she hesitates again, then follows her impulse "...well, I- I am here. If I can help you, I'll try to." She stops Do I really mean that? Yes, she realises, she really does. She doesn't want Danielle to die. That's part of figuring it out for me, I guess.

She suddenly realises she has just gone off on a rant of her own and shrugs, a little embarassed. "I don't know how I'm doing. I mean, there's this" she gestures vaguely in the direction of her face "This was... bad. But I think maybe, if I take a bit of time... I don't know. I'll have to figure that out, too."

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy

Danielle tensed at first then accepted and returned the hug, and listened to Amy.

"I'm not worried about Flak, Flat whatever", she mumbled had it been Flat he said not Flak?, "his advise so far has been reasonable enough", allowing a bit of a smile to be heard on her words "I think he might feel that he has been dealt a poor hand having to deal with me", the deal was not intended to be punctuated but it was, he was likely on orders to kill her if she looked like she might embarrass the prince.

How could she not hate him?, the answer that occurred was control and clan and blood, to have a close knit clan you likely needed a method of control from the top and the prince had mentioned something about blood bonding vampires together, or some-such, "I wouldn't trust him on it, you might want to ask about that bonding affect the prince mentioned earlier", pausing and realising "sorry I shouldn't be making this harder for you, forget about it, if you trust him and can get some comfort in that cool".

She pulled back and smiled at the woman, "I probably wouldn't have made it to them, I didn't even really consider it I would have needed to focus on a single area, but it is just that now I can't ever that bothers me", another road closed off for her.

We have to kill, Billy killed three the society killed more, and that was just what she knew about, she would have to become used to death ... and when you became used to something it was only a small step to embracing it, she kept her mouth shut on that one, Amy didn't need to hear it.

Putting on a brave face, "Thanks for listening to me, I will make it work with Mom, and maybe find my sister, heh the powers might help with that if I ever figure them out - if I in fact have any" continuing with the brave face with a smile, "But I can't let you help with the Jackal, it would get the kindred all bothered by me dragging in the fledglings " she said the word to lighten the mood, but then grow serious "... and I don't want to see you die".

She had avoided the topic of Amy's appearance all night, but now that it was raised she needed to acknowledge it, she tentatively reached up to Amy's face touching her cheek and looked her in the eyes, "This is ... " she wanted to say 'nothing' but stopped herself "... shouldn't be important, but if it is you can learn to put on a new face like the others and treat it like make up, something to make you feel better if you want or need it to", smiling lightly "you are a good person Amy, that is what it important. Better then me anyway", she somehow doubted Amy had hospitalised anyone.

Standing and helping Amy up, "I suppose that we are a sight sitting here with me whining about how bad I have it. How stereotypically teenage of me, and you the calm reasoned adult pointing out as gently as possible that problems are not insurmountable" she said with a forced laugh "one bad night and I am a wreck" she smiled, her spirit a bit better after her verbal release.

[Strawberries]

Amy, Danielle

Right. I think that’s the first time someone called me a calm reasonable adult. Amy thinks about it for a second, then snorts a laugh. “You know what? This is not ‘one bad night’. We died tonight, so screw that, I think we deserved to rant a bit.” She’s feeling a bit better, too: she had needed to vent as well. I’d whip out the chocolate cookies, but, well... undead.

“And that’s too-friggin’-bad on what would get the other kindred bothered - you’re not dragging me, I’m volunteering, and that’s entirely my business. I don’t want to see you die, either... it seems like we missed the brief on how to be undead bloodsucking monsters, eh?” she says with a smile.

She shrugs away Danielle’s attempt to make her feel better about her appearance: she has not worked out yet how much she’s bothered by it. Imagine that’s make-up, hah! Good way to look at it. “Yeah, I think I’ll put forward my name for the next Maybelline spot. I could do both the ‘before’ and the ‘after’. Think of the money.” Yes, laughing definitely helps. Always has, probably always will. But, on the more immediate order of business... “Uhm... Danielle, do you prefer to be alone? Because I can leave and find another place to sleep, or I can stay here if it helps.” For her part, she doesn’t know what she prefers: she’s used to sleep alone: she hasn’t slept in the same room with her sister since she was seventeen, but on the other hand, it’s been a hell of a night. The prospect of dealing with sleep alone is kind of scary.

[dancrilis]

Danielle, Amy

She smiled, "Ok, but I want it on record that I didn't ask, and that you will make no attempts to actually meet him, other help might be very very much welcome".

She smiled wider "Don't worry about the bloodsucking monsters thing, I am sure we will figure it out", a joke at the situation, that instantly hit to close to home, "wow I can be a real downer at times" she muttered before perking up again.

"Normally I would sleep along, or for road trips with other teammates in a hostel or something", she smiled, "but yea the night that is in it I think the company might be good", pointing at the mattress "you can have it, I am fine on the floor it is good for the back and posture".

"Anyway it is late or early or whatever", she lay down and stretched out "... Amy, thanks for walking me up".

[Strawberries]

Amy, Danielle

“Hah, no, I don’t really want to meet a guy that has hundred-years-old vampires pissing their pants, if I can avoid it.” Amy smiles. That’s definitely better. “And don’t be daft, I don’t mind sharing the mattress if you don’t. Uhm... is there a bathroom? I’ll just be back in a second”.

She tries a couple of door, finding a small closet behind the first and the room that she needed behind the second. She closes the door behind herself and turns around, considering the bathroom. Way better that her apartment’s, even if there’s just a very small mirror on the top of the sink. She's not sure if it is intentional. Very possible, given who the owners of these flats are.

Still, there is something she has to do, and the less she puts it off, the better. Amy takes a deep breath and undresses, standing naked in the centre of the room and examining herself slowly. Not so bad, could have been worse, could have ended up like Slick she keeps thinking to herself like a mantra, as she takes stock of the changes in her body. "Crap" she whispers, looking at her legs. She had cut herself a bit while shaving, this morning, just under the right knee, and that small, insignificant cut has became a wide, open sore, showing the red of the flesh below, though luckily not bleeding. And I don't suppose it'll ever heal, either. Dammit. I wonder if I can file a complaint with the Gilette for that.

The rest is not too bad, at least relatively speaking. It seems like her face has got the worst deal. Her body has that unsettling, gray colour everywhere, apparently, and, well, it seems like her skin is thicker and dryer on her chest and upper back. Almost scale-like, actually. Doesn't really matter, who was I going to charm anyway? Mike? The thought makes her snigger Hell, he should be used to it after...seventy years. Seventy years, hell... he could be my granddad. Who knows if Mike has a good repository of war stories, too. And I should go to sleep. First comparing Flat Face to mrs Appleton, now Mike to my grandpa. I'll stop right here before I start thinking that Slick is really the Frog Prince and I try to kiss him. At the party, she had told herself that she just had to wait till she was alone and then she could afford to have a proper, decent breakdown, tears, heaps of kleenex and all the works, but she doesn't feel like crying anymore. She still feels like making idiot quips and laughing to herself. The conversations first with Mike and then with Danielle have really helped.

She quickly redresses herself, goes back to the other room, smiles at Danielle to show that she’s alright and lays down on the mattress. After a moment, she turns on her left side and hugs the pillow, her favourite position for sleeping. “Sleep well, Danielle.” Hell of a night, hell of a day tomorrow, probably is her last thought Still, on the bright side? I don't have to stand behind that stupid counter anymore.

[Worlok]

Faruq - and Byron, to an extent

The Afghan-blooded Scot found himself hesitating now, carefully sizing the other man up with one eye while scribbling some more in Arabic. His tongue was coming along nicely, and while he was gagging a little, and it felt kind of weird, he figured he kept his countenance up rather well.

Another note, in English again this time around: "Huh. Not really seeing it. What about the driver, there? He a ghoul, as well? Anyone in the know about vampires who is not? Got some more questions, if you do not mind."

[daelrog]

Faruq

Byron starts to lighten up a bit, part from being useful, and part that Faruq seemed to be opening up, even saying so. "I'm glad you're curious Faruq. I admit I was worried for you back at the Prince's. I think once you learn the ropes, and the do's and do not's, you'll fit in just fine."

He looked towards the driver's way. "There are generally four kinds of people who know about kindred. The first are those who work under kindred. Ghouls are the top servants. There are also people, like our driver who have been swayed to serve under Josef Kirsch without needing the use of blood, ways I'm sure you'll learn in the coming nights. He's mortal, but like me, he's a servant as well.

"The second kind of people are other supernaturals, though usually limited. There's always a debate as to which supernaturals exist and which don't. You heard mention of an Irishman? He's a supernatural, but not kindred. There are werewolves too. They supposedly kill any kindred of any kind on site. I don't suggest wandering too deep into rural Washington or Oregon. We're city creatures, they're rural.

"The third are those who stay silent. Maybe they witnessed something. The masquerade tends to be broken from time to time, no system is perfect, it's the clean up work that matters most. The last Prince, the one your Uncle masterminded the destruction of was fairly kind... as far as kindred go. He had a habit of making thralls of those who he could, it's why there are so many servants at the mansion. It's not an ideal situation, and Jean's certainly give them an interesting new look, but he thought it better than killing them. Jean... is more fickle. He was pretty heavy handed with those close to Billy, Danielle's sire. Normally he wouldn't go to such lengths, but Billy made a good mess of things. However, there are some people who no doubt witness something, and stay silent. They know no one will believe them, keep quiet, are afraid of shadows, and otherwise live as normal. Even kindred can't find everyone if they keep their mouths shut, and that's find by them.

"The last are the hunters. Van Helsing from Dracula? There was such a man from what I've heard, and there have been hunters for as long as there have been kindred. Prey who try to hunt the predators. Even in the wild there are prey who are capable of fighting back. Most are just ordinary humans. Some are government agents from different world powers, though thankfully they are woefully underfunded. Some are from the Vatican, calling themselves the Society of Leopold, much more capable, though there actions are mostly around Catholic dominated areas. Some are just normal individuals with a saw off shot gun. Few hunters can actually kill a kindred. Kindred are too resilient, and too powerful. That, and though true faith is one of the most potent weapons against kindred, so few individuals have it. Many hunters have met an end by waving around a cross in vain. One mistake and its over.

"However, a few hunters, including Jackal the Nine-Bladed have shown to have supernatural powers. Does that make him a supernatural? Does that make him a new breed of man? We don't know. From what Melanie gained from Trent Weston, one of Al's deputies, Brett Davenfeldt gasped for breath before Jackal beheaded him. That is... a most troubling theory."

Faruq could tell that Byron was very afraid of Jackal. He could also tell that Byron liked to talk and explain things thoroughly.

So we can get the ball rolling again, how about you post a series of questions Faruq has, Byron will answer and then there will be a one post exchange between Faruq and Flockton (the sun is coming soon), and we'll move to the next night.

[dancrilis]

Danielle considered taking the mattress but she was to exhausted to bother moving from where she lay, she was asleep before Amy got back.

A more peaceful look on her face then previously.

[Worlok]

Originally, Faruq had intended to silently let his tongue regrow, continue the conversation with notes, and then casually drop a spoken line for the shock effect once he'd get out of the car. But hell, this guy Byron sure seemed cool enough, and judging from all of this, and the end of the drive approaching, he figured why bother with cheap theatrics, here? Thus he spoke: "I hope so. I mean, don't get me wrong. But dying, and then just to die again, kind of a crappy hand to be dealt, I'd say." A smirk. "But speaking of, how's that ghoul-thing work? I mean, first off, thanks for tellin' me this, and it helps already. But I'm really all out for the basics here. Jus' yesterday round this time? I had no idea what a 'vampire' is. I mean, sure, I'd heard the name Dracula, and I kind of knew that that Helsing guy, he's his enemy. But you know, never really heard a lot about blood-drinking living dead. The stories I'd heard were typically more about demons and ghosts and stuff. So when Melly, she tells me that I'm a vampire now? I had no goddamn clue what she was even on about. I honestly thought that she was with the Mossad, and growing fangs to drink blood is a Jewish thing." He felt like laughing, there, but it wouldn't have sounded all that amused, and he didn't.

"Now that I think about it, though - I might have heard the word before. Vampire, I mean. But really, it never had any meaning for me. And now this. This happen often? And when you say, immortality, you mean basically that those guys can get really old, yes? Like, sassing Mr Kirsch with standard Nazi jokes might have some basic in reality, and stuff, because he was around for World War Two, but because he's a living dead, you can't tell by the looks of him?" He paused, glancing aside and out of the window and once again noting some more Arabic down. "And then they're in hiding all this time? I mean, if I was a little more of a stand-offish sort, I'd be like, damn, so you rise from the dead with superpowers and all to tell noone about it, when you could go around fixing things everywhere. And that they take a decent guy like you, and basically make him a deal that goes 'You'll be immortal, but it means you'll literally have to suck your boss off 'til the end of time.' and all of this just seems... strange. I mean, like, if I'm to hold up a masquerade with a bunch of goblin-people at the helm, I'd need to know a little more. And don't get me wrong, I'm not as mad as I sound. It's really just confusion, man." A new shrug, a new glance, some more Arabic, and then gingerly onwards: "For one, where does Ahmad stand in all of this? He killed that prince of yours, I understand, but why? Different opinions on how to run things? And he really is a vampire, too? But he never told me about this, when with a few lines of explanation, I coulda been informed, and might have been okay with it, and now I'm to believe that I'm no longer al-Assad because the enemy was faster once. And that is because of that masquerade of theirs, as well, or isn't it? The parts, they simply don't add up for me." Wait. Ahmad always shared that strange drink with Dad and the others. Probably his own blood? Then Dad and Hussain and Mohammed and everyone... They were 'ghouls' as well? Could it really be? What a discomforting thought. "And say, what about religion? Language? Culture? Name 'Haqim' ring a bell for you? There like, different clans and gangs and such with you I really gotta know about?"

And then: "And what's it with this Jackal kid? How scary can he be to have y'all freaked?"

[daelrog]

Byron did his best to respond to Faruq. "The strength of kindred comes from blood. Soem are looking for a scientific answer, but none have been found yet. Kindred need to feed on blood to survive, their powers usually come from blood. If a human ingests the blood of a kindred, they get some of their strength.

"Worldwide the embrace is fairly common, there's estimated to be aound 40,000 kindred right now. It's hard to say. How common it is depends on the place. We've heard rumors that Africa is seeing a lot more embraces. A city like Havensworth though usually sees a new kindred once every few years so tonight was unusual. But yes, you cannot die of natural causes. Mr. Kirsch is over three hundred years old. Jean du Noir is the eldest in the city and is over five hundred.

"Even though both of them, and many other kindred are superior to normal people, they stay in hiding to survive. If humanity learned of their existence, of undead creatures that live off the blood of common people, it would start a war, it has started wars in ancient times. Kindred are powerful, but human ingenuity, their numbers, and the weaknesses kindred face with their curse will always give humanity the edge. A single young kindred might be able to take on six armed thugs, but he cannot take on a fully armed squad of SWAT police. An elder could take on hundreds of trained soldiers, but even they cannot take a napalm launch from an attack helicopter. No, if humaity and kindred went to war, the kindred would lose. You say they could fix things, but kindred are little different from normal people. You have good ones, bad ones, and no one agrees on what fixing things actually are.

"Ahmad al-Assad belongs to Clan Assamite, considered an Independent Clan. Seven of the thirteen, including the Ventrue, belong to the Camarilla, the largest and most powerful faction. Two belong to the Sabbat, a ruthless group that holds sway in the worst cities in the world. Four are independent, each with their own agendas. Ahmad arranged for the last Prince to be killed, by changing his flight so that he could not avoid the sun. Mr. Weinman had been in some of the later crusades, and had personally slew a number of Assamites, including Ahmad's grandsire, the sire of his sire. It was an old grudge. You see Faruq, most modern conflicts, like the Palestinians and Israelis have little meaning to most elders. They're still fighting wars started hundreds of years ago.

"As for religion, culture that depends on the kindred. Clan Assamite has mostly turned to Islam and most of its kindred were Muslims in mortal life, but their Clan predates Muhammed. Each Clan, each sect of kindred have their own culture, which you'll learn in time. As for Haqim? That is the name of Clan Assamite's founder if I remember correctly. Each Clan has a progenitor, an ancient kindred called an antideluvian who each passed their unique curse down to their progeny, curses that still exist. Those kindred are long since destroyed though, lost to history. Many believe they will rise again, but prophets of doom always exist."

The car came to a halt, they had reached their destination. "Kindred, like anyone, fear what they don't understand. Jackal the Nine-Bladed is just that, an unknown."

The doors opened, and Faruq could see Flockton, angrier than Faruq had ever seen him. "Byron."

"Mr. Flockton."

The Brit looked at Faruq, but only briefly. "The sun's coming up soon. Get inside, we'll talk tomorrow."

All right, you can make Flockton's place what you want, Worlok. My next post will be the next night.

[daelrog]

Amy

Amy woke up. Everything was a blur. She looked over to the nearby table to see that a glass of blood was on the table, with a pitcher next to it. She could hear violins playing from somewhere else in the building. Mike was nowhere to be seen.

Claire

The place smelled of drugs, smoke, and sex. She could hear mariachi music in her left ear, and gangster rap in her right. She could see Rogan talking to Victor.

"Should I kill him?"

"No, just observe." Rogan looked at Claire, and smiled, half in happiness, half thinking of what was to come. "Are you ready for your first hunt?"

Danielle

Danielle could hear classical music even before her eyes opened. When her eyes opened, they quickly shut again. In just that brief instant, she had seen Flat Face, looking straight at her, standing right behind a middle aged man, clearly dead, the permanent kind, sitting in a chair.

Faruq

Faruq woke up in Flockton's place. Its mix of European and Arabic style something Faruq was used to, but most strangers found curious. He saw pictures of Flockton's family on the wall, something he had not seen before. He understood why quickly, as the pictures were old, the brown and white pictures from long ago. It was Flockton all right, though more out of style than usual, and so were his family, a homely looking woman, and three boys.

Rick

Rick could smell the blood immediately. Chase was sitting there, taking notes. Her hair was a bit frazzled, with one bang over her face. She heard the sheets ruffle, sheets that were put on him after he passed out, and didn't look up to greet up, preoccupied.

"Good evening Mr. Valentino. You sir, have a busy evening in front of you." Her pen stopped, and finally she did look him in the eyes. "Are you okay, or would you like a few minutes?"

[Dark Seeker]

Rick raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Valentino now? Rick is fine. Never been one for respectful titles." In his experience, the politer a person was, the more they were trying to hide.

He stood up. "What's my evening looking like?"

Time to see what sort of things he owed to the Tremere.

[Soras Teva Gee]

What did I do last night, Claire thought to herself as she slowly returned to consciousness. That dream, she'd never had one so vivid. And who had their music going so early, her apartment was usually so quiet. What had she done last night, she still felt kind of numb.

As memory returned Claire bolted upright with a forced gasp. Gary was dead. She was dead. The field, the ecstasy, the murder, the sweet taste of blood in her throat. The court, the trial, and the word vampire. She remembered all of that but above all she remembered Rogan. Dark, ancient, inhuman, but powerful, compelling, and the one who'd killed her in a moment like nothing she'd ever known. And now she was waking up in an rotten run down apartment where she'd slept without a stitch on her and that last bit she realized didn't even bother her.

Hell of a thing to wake up.

It took Claire a moment before answering Rogan's question. She needed to process everything. Details, start with small things. This apartment it really was terrible, how could either of the men stand it. She wanted to go back to her place. There that was something she could latch on to. A hunt Rogan had said, yes that made sense. She could feel that distant desire, stronger then it had been before. Yes she would need to feed that Hunger or she'd feel loose control again, kill again.

Finally getting up Claire walked about the small space. Purely out of habit she stretched but though she could feel her sinews extend it wasn't the same. Vampires is seem wouldn't have to worry about pulling a muscle. Finally after several long moments she answered her sire's question.

"In a word, no. We need to go by my apartment first. I can't go out like this and the only clothes I've got are filthy. Not attention I'd like to attract." She said pointing to the pile of ones she'd had the previous night, "I also could use a shower, which I don't trust here. I also should check on my place just on general principle, mail starts piling up and people take notice. Shouldn't take long. Unless you mean running in the woods after a deer or something then I guess it could wait."

Of course Rogan might say no, but Claire had just woken up in a strangers apartment dead. She'd played meek all last night, this night she needed to see just how much she could assert herself.

[Worlok]

"Dang, man. Now idea dude used to be a family man, really." But then again, there had apparently been a lot of things he had not known about friends and family, from the looks of things. In between studying some of the photos and pacing about the room - he was unfamiliar with this particular property, having only known Flockton's office in Seattle earlier with the exception of vague hints at there being some other hidey-holes throughout Havensworth proper - Faruq made to check for his suit, his notes from the drive home, and his composure in that order.

He felt like he would normally have felt on a particular kind of bad hair morning, and his typical remedy - waddling to the fridge in his underwear, getting a cold hot-dog and devouring it on the balcony while the coffee machine ran - would apparently be denied him from now on. Or maybe not, he'd have to test it. Plan "Swallow your tongue and spite them" went into section two, "Find real food and try it". But more importantly, he'd have to get some questions out to Flockton and Ahmad, and by now he was together well enough to mouth them.

Maybe check in with Isaac, too. That was what he had forgotten, come to think of it. Establish continuable contact with Byron. The dude knew stuff, and apparently had his share of insight on certain matters. Still, though, really. Immortality. Kinda funny, that. You could get God-knows-how-old, and you still wouldn't know whether it's actual immortality. He'd have to drop that line some time. Better write it down. Now to find out what time it is, what the score looks like, and what exactly I'm supposed to do with all of this.

[Thundercracker]

Erica

The alarm on her watch went off at 7am, and her eyes snapped open. The room was pitch black and she couldn't see a thing, but she knew the sheets were not hers as she fumbled for her watch.

I’m more tired than usual, maybe I’m getting sick… extra glass of orange juice at breakfast.

Suddenly, the previous night's events came back to her in a rush: helplessness at the hands of Kirsch, the Faustian deal, loss of control again, then the blood, drinking it, and actually liking it, then the bizarre trial and debutante ball. Her hand crept to her neck to feel for a pulse, but of course there was none.

Erica swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, letting the bedsheets fall away as she felt her way to the light switch. The room was bathed in light, and she stumbled her way to the phone. Punching the numbers from memory, she called her manager. Answering machine, as expected at 7am.

"Hey, it's Erica. I'm sick today and won't be in to work, just letting you know," she said, adding a cough and a sniffle for good measure.

Then she turned off the lights and crawled back into bed, falling asleep before she’d even pulled the covers all the way up.

She was awoken again by voices outside her door, voices which quickly faded down the hallway. She glanced at her watch; the small light in the corner of the display lit up and showed 3:37 pm. She wasn't sure what time the sun set, but it was a good bet it was sometime well after 3:30 pm. Too nervous to return to slumber, Erica flicked on the lights again and stepped into the shower. Her skin was cold, and she welcomed the hot water warming her flesh. Curious, she turned the heat up, as hot as she could bear it. She wasn’t sure, but she guessed it was much hotter than what she’d be able to bear before. Now though, her skin didn’t turn pink like it used to.

She dressed quickly, wearing the same clothes as yesterday as she didn’t want to wear her more casual outfits. She did leave the jacket off though. As she let her hair dry in the climate controlled air, she sat at the desk and reviewed her notes from the previous day, scribbling more here and there, filling in the blanks where she hadn't had the time earlier. Before long though, she ran out of things to write, and began pacing, bare feet padding across the carpet. Finally, she settled on watching the Disney Afternoon. Normally she didn’t watch television, but in this instance as she needed something to distract her mind before she lost it, and watching a bunch of annoyingly voiced cartoon characters get into and out of various shenanigans of their own doing seemed somehow appropriate.

[dancrilis]

She enjoyed the music trying to place the piece the event of the previous night were still with her but unlike when she previously awoke she felt hungry now, a primal hunger but not a pressing one.
The music was soothing somewhat.

As she opened her eyes her comfort was shattered they were closed before she even noticed the image of the body burned into her mind.

Be calm.

The man might have had family and friends, in fact it was likely.

Be calm.

Children who would miss him, a wife that loved him.

Be calm.

Her eyes still closed she flipped to her feet the movement snapping them open she didn't even look for Amy her glare intense and the knife pulled into her from where it had been tucked, to hell with calm, "Why is their a dead man before me", her voice harsh and low, the primal hunger was evident in it as she eyed both of them up the dead man as an instinctive meal the less dead one as a potential enemy ... an enemy that she was angry at.

[Strawberries]

Amy

Amy slowly gets up, rubbing her eyes out of habit, even if, now that she thinks about it, they don't really feel itchy as they usually do in the morning. A perk of being a vampire, it seems, is that dry eyes and allergies don't bother you that much anymore. What's with the violins, anyway? she thinks, before realizing that there's a question which is much more urgent. Where's Danielle?

"Danielle?" she calls. She registers the blood on the table, noting the way in which her body has immediately identified it as food, even if her mind has been occupied with other thoughts. A bit more worrying is the sensation of need that accompanies the sight. I can think about breakfast later, after I undestand what the hell is happening. "Danielle?" she repeats, this time with a fair bit of worry in her tone, and, after a second "Mike?" Someone?

((Uhm, perception check to figure out what's going on? If I have to roll, let's say perception + alertness [roll0]))

[daelrog]

Amy

Amy realized she was in another room, but definately in the same building. The sound of the music was downstairs, so she was definately on a higher floor than Danielle. She could also hear the faint tapping of a shoe. Someone was waiting for her right outside the door.

Claire

Rogan listened. All his response was, was to nod, and then give her options. "Very well, Claire. You may either take Victor's truck, or you can have him drive you. Meet me at central park in three hours." He stood up, and left.

Victor was standing there, cutting up some food. She could tell he noticed her, but was making a point not to look at her. It seemed more out of fear than disrespect. No one else was in the room. It still smelled something foul and ripe inside.

Danielle

Flat Face snorted. He looked down at the dead man. "Hey, buddy, the lady asked a question." He took hold of the dead man's jaw, making it move up a down as if it were a puppet. "I'm dead because I'm an unlucky bastard who made a rude comment to my good buddy Flat Face. So I got to be your breakfast instead of the homeless shmuck. Ain't that something?" Flat Face kicked the chair, letting him roll onto the floor. "When you get your fill, we'll leave."

Erica

When she stepped out, a couple office employees passed her. They didn't seem phased with her presence, going about her work. Byron was quickly at her though, walking quickly down the hall. He seemed far less fresh this time, likely he hadn't slept all day. "I hope your sleep went well Ms. Lee. Mr. Kirsch is still resting, but he should be up shortly. He wished to meet you in his study again, if it was favorable to you."

Faruq

As Faruq left the room, he could see Flockton below, giving orders to men as they moved boxes around, and loaded them onto the trucks to be distributed further into mainland America. He looked up and saw Faruq. It was too far away to say anything without shouting, but he looked a moment longer than necessary to show Faruq he had seen him, and continued talking to the workers.

Rick

"Well, Rick," she said his name playfully, "You'll get to see some of the Chantry. You'll also get to meet the other Tremere in the city. She was a bit too busy to attend the meeting. I think the head boss already has a job for you, and he'll tell you on it. Oh, and you get to select what path to take, what kind of magic on top of the basics to research."

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica nodded and followed Byron down the hall, heels clicking on the floor as she walked.

"He's still resting? I've been up for hours," she said, "it looks like you have too... did the coffee machine break down?"

[Strawberries]

Amy

She has been moved. That's... worrying and confusing. How can I have been moved without noticing? She gives another longing look to the blood, but she wants to see who's at the door, first. She looks around, searching for something that can be used like an improvised weapon, and goes to open the door to see who's on the other side.

((She's going to try to arm herself with whatever is in the room that is suitable: so, a poker if there's a fireplace, for instance, or barring that, something pointy or heavy.))

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"I see. Sounds like I should get to it then. Much to get done, and I've only half the time I use to." He smiles, waiting for Chase to lead the way.

The events of the past evening hit him fully, and the detective wonders just what he has gotten himself into. Still, he's not about to show weakness in front of anyone. Whatever comes, he'll deal with it. If nothing else, Henry seemed willing to avoid sending him out to do anything morally objectionable.
Rick raises an eyebrow at the notion of learning some magic. Even now, he has to fight back a laugh. Magic was ridiculous. But not anymore ridiculous then actual vampires, so the detective decided to withhold judgment for the moment. .

[dancrilis]

The callousness hit her hard, not because it was new to her but because it was something she could see in herself, she had threatened people at school and acted on the threats as she felt appropriate.
Flat not Flak she noticed this time.

Still she ignored all of that "I have a bloody vampire hunter after me", she spoke through gritted teeth, "a man that seems to have tracked my idiot bastard of a sire through body count", pausing for what should have naturally been a breath "and you think that the best way to teach me is to start leaving a trial for him".

She pointed at the body, "homeless or not he will likely have people wondering where he got to, maybe police if he was an source or a friend of a source, maybe drug gangs ... maybe anyone that could give us away to the hunter", logic might work where emotion failed, "I don't mind the thought of having to kill" the lie obvious "but only if it is absolutely necessary" this was more true she would do what she had to.

Still the death would be entirely pointless if she didn't drink, she approached the body with the knife wondering where to cut to get blood "what is the normal way of getting blood out", she also examined the body for signs of disease or likely disease.


Medicine Check: [roll0]

[dancrilis]

OOC:

I used intelligence + medicine for the above, sorry should have noted that.

On consideration I should have used perception for noticing things.
If I can I would add the following dice to the above for perception.
[roll0]