Nicholas Cranston had a dilemma. Having recently been elected President of the United States, the Camarilla leader did not have as much time available to deal with the squabbles in the world of Kindred. What was happening, he though, could not have come at a worse time. Every possible sign that the world was facing Gehenna, the End Times, was appearing. Thin Bloods were becoming both increasingly common, and starting to rebel against their rightful Kindred rulers. Gehenna cults were attracting more and more members to their ranks, slowly draining the Camarilla of their resources. The Catholic Shadow Inquisition, a sect of monster hunters once thought to have been dissolved, had been confirmed as having been fully reformed and on the prowl. And to top it all off, Cranston's personal advisor and Vice President, Nathaniel LaChance, had gone missing. Luckily no one in DC had disbelieved Cranston's story about him being severely ill and forced to stay at home. Cranston knew he needed to do something, and fast, before the seeming collapse of everything he knew occurred. Picking up his phone, he went about calling in every favor he could, assembling a private meeting of top Camarilla agents, advisors, and independent Kindred-for-hire.
[IC] Vampire: The Masquerade - Scriptures
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Lady Absinthia ⚘ Blossoming ⚘
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25 days ago
"Yes sir, she will leave on the next flight out of Dublin," a deep voice emanated into the phone before the receiver was placed heavily back into its cradle. Leaning back in the finely crafted leather chair emerald eyes held a weight of worry in them as they looked around the hard wood walled study.
The door echoed as the brass latch was turned and a slender woman stepped inside. Spike heeled black high shinned shoes clicked against the floor towards the man. The woman wore a black pencil skirt with a silken white blouse tucked into the narrow waist. Her fiery hair was pulled taunt into a bun and she glanced over the top of her tortoise shell frames to her Sire as she held her tablet against her chest.
"The Duke was wanting to move your meeting from this Thursday until after the New Moon," she began before taking note of her Sires expression.
Slowly pulling her glasses off she let them drop against her chest and rose a curved brow. "Lord Grandal? Is something wrong?" she asked inquisitivly.
Rubbing his face, Grandal stood up and buttoned his coat before stepping out from behind the desk.
"I need you to go to Washington D.C. Veta," he stated as he pulled the tablet away from her. Veta tilted her head to the side slightly and motioned for him to continue. He took a quick moment to explain and after a few minutes Veta simply nodded and turned on her heels, making her way out of the study to prepare.
The private jet landed at Dulles late in the evening and taxied to a stop in front on a well lit hanger with a black town car waiting. The stairs were lowered and Veta stepped out as she adjusted her putter coat. Making her way down to the tarmac she was greeted by an older gentleman with a broad grin on his features.
"Miss Norton, I presume?" he asked in a thick southern drawl as he took her hand and kissed the back of the pale skin.
"Yes, and you are?" Veta asked as she pulled her hand away.
"Migs Ma'am, George Migs. At your service," he said as he stepped to the side and opened the door to the awaiting town car for her.
"Alright Migs, take me to the meeting," she said as she slide into the seat and the pilot loaded her luggage into the trunk.
"Yes Ma'am," Migs said quickly before shutting the door and climbing into the driver seat. The trunk shut and a double tap against the hood of the car echoed through it before Migs drove off towards the designated location.
The door echoed as the brass latch was turned and a slender woman stepped inside. Spike heeled black high shinned shoes clicked against the floor towards the man. The woman wore a black pencil skirt with a silken white blouse tucked into the narrow waist. Her fiery hair was pulled taunt into a bun and she glanced over the top of her tortoise shell frames to her Sire as she held her tablet against her chest.
"The Duke was wanting to move your meeting from this Thursday until after the New Moon," she began before taking note of her Sires expression.
Slowly pulling her glasses off she let them drop against her chest and rose a curved brow. "Lord Grandal? Is something wrong?" she asked inquisitivly.
Rubbing his face, Grandal stood up and buttoned his coat before stepping out from behind the desk.
"I need you to go to Washington D.C. Veta," he stated as he pulled the tablet away from her. Veta tilted her head to the side slightly and motioned for him to continue. He took a quick moment to explain and after a few minutes Veta simply nodded and turned on her heels, making her way out of the study to prepare.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The private jet landed at Dulles late in the evening and taxied to a stop in front on a well lit hanger with a black town car waiting. The stairs were lowered and Veta stepped out as she adjusted her putter coat. Making her way down to the tarmac she was greeted by an older gentleman with a broad grin on his features.
"Miss Norton, I presume?" he asked in a thick southern drawl as he took her hand and kissed the back of the pale skin.
"Yes, and you are?" Veta asked as she pulled her hand away.
"Migs Ma'am, George Migs. At your service," he said as he stepped to the side and opened the door to the awaiting town car for her.
"Alright Migs, take me to the meeting," she said as she slide into the seat and the pilot loaded her luggage into the trunk.
"Yes Ma'am," Migs said quickly before shutting the door and climbing into the driver seat. The trunk shut and a double tap against the hood of the car echoed through it before Migs drove off towards the designated location.
Grimoire Gaming Unseelie Faerie
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9 hrs ago
Little girls sporting tight buns atop their heads and frilly tutus at their hips filed out the doors with their parents. Their joyous skips and giggles as they recounted what they learned that day were some of the main reasons that Peridot truly loved her job.
“Lacey, dear, remember to work on your line! Practice at home and we’ll review it in your next lesson.” Peri called out to one of her favored pupils. The graceful blonde smiled and bowed to Peri. “Of course, Miss Wakahisa.” The surname Lacey used was that of Peridot’s chosen alias, one which allowed her to maintain a connection to the human world without her still-living family members finding her; It means ‘forever young’ in Japanese - the very reason Peridot chose it in the first place.
The ballet studio was now empty, aside from Peridot herself, who was bending down to slip off her pointe shoes when her phone vibrated noisily on the reception desk. Briefly forgetting about the shoes, Peri picked up the device and scanned the caller-ID. Salvatore Parisi, aka Slick, was the mobster-turned vampire that wore the fancy hat as Regent of NYC’s Toreador clan. Slick always has and always will mean business, a call from him was not to be taken lightly and, unless you were looking to sport a pair of cement shoes, you did NOT ignore him.
Peri picked up shortly after the second ring. Sal was relaying a message directly from the desk of Nicholas Cranston, who was assembling a private meeting of top Camarilla agents, advisors, and independent Kindred-for-hire in Washington, D.C. This call was a somewhat unexpected compliment, as Salvatore Parisi was considering her – a neonate among the Kindred circle – a top Camarilla agent. Her ferocity turned heads among the clan, as most Torries preferred to be lovers over fighters, but Peri never could settle for just one passion when, through strength and willpower, she could have both. Slick informed her that he booked her and a few other notable local Toreadors on the next flight from NYC to DC.
Later that evening…
Peridot’s flight landed at the Reagan National Airport in the dark of night. Even still, Peri wore huge sunglasses for style. Her ebony hair was pulled into a tight French twist and she wore an elegant, yet edgy-looking business suit. She always stayed away from pencil skirts and tight fitting clothing, as they hindered her movement if it came time to ‘dance’.
A glance around the receiving area led Peri to a man holding a card with the name “Hayashi” written on it. In the Kindred realm, Peridot stuck to using her true family name, there was pride in it that she would never relinquish. The suit-clad man led her to an awaiting black town car that was to drive her to the designated meeting location.
Saarebas Wandering Wild Magic Fanatic
Member
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1 yr ago
"Hmm what other improvements should I make?" The almost sing song voice of who appeared to be a young redheaded man asked and seemingly floated in the air of the darkly lit art studio that he occupied. The young redhead was fairly attractive, though judging from his attire it seemed like he had been working on the project his attention was so fixed on for quite some time. His crimson locks were loosely pulled into a ponytail, the apron he wore was ruffled and wrinkled from work, and the pair of red framed glasses lazily dangled on a chain around his neck. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand as one of his slender fingers tapped his cheek in contemplation. This may have been a completely normal and rather mundane scenario if it was not for the fact that the project that the young fellow was so interested was a horrifying amalgamation of flesh and bone that barely resembled the frame of a large humanoid and writhed just enough to let a on looker know that indeed this monstrosity was alive.
"Ah ha!" The young man exclaimed with a snap of his fingers and excited grin before he stepped forward to the horrid creature that laid before him. The redhead laid one of his hands upon the monster and slowly traced a path across its form. As his hand moved small spines of bone erupted from the creatures hide. "That should help you my love. Now what next..."
Before he could finish this thought a small timid voice spoke up behind him. "Uh m-master Dawn." The voice belong to a small, impish looking boy who couldn't of been over the age of eight and just like his voice the boy seemed to be a mass of nervous energy. The redheaded gentleman, who had been revealed to be named Dawn, peered over his shoulder towards the child and offered him a devilish smile. "What is it my child?" With this prompting the boy approached the blood and bile splattered man and handed him a sealed letter. "T-This arrived f-f-for you... it is from the P-Prince." Dawn gave the boy a slight nod as he took the letter. It did not take long for him to scan over the letter and a wicked smile to plant itself on his face. "Oh this should be quite interesting." Dawn said with a chuckle before looking back to the boy in front of him. "Thank you William, you are such a helpful child." He said as he gently stroked the William's cheek, his skin seemingly becoming smoother as Dawn touched him. "It would seem I have some business to attend to. I trust you can manage things in my absence, yes?" Dawn said which spurred a quick and shaky nod from William. Just as Dawn began to leave the beast that he had been so enticed with moments ago began to stir. "Oh and please make sure that she doesn't get out while I am gone, I still have much work to do with her." Dawn said, getting yet another nod from the boy, before heading out and into the night of what would most defiantly be filled with exciting.
"Ah ha!" The young man exclaimed with a snap of his fingers and excited grin before he stepped forward to the horrid creature that laid before him. The redhead laid one of his hands upon the monster and slowly traced a path across its form. As his hand moved small spines of bone erupted from the creatures hide. "That should help you my love. Now what next..."
Before he could finish this thought a small timid voice spoke up behind him. "Uh m-master Dawn." The voice belong to a small, impish looking boy who couldn't of been over the age of eight and just like his voice the boy seemed to be a mass of nervous energy. The redheaded gentleman, who had been revealed to be named Dawn, peered over his shoulder towards the child and offered him a devilish smile. "What is it my child?" With this prompting the boy approached the blood and bile splattered man and handed him a sealed letter. "T-This arrived f-f-for you... it is from the P-Prince." Dawn gave the boy a slight nod as he took the letter. It did not take long for him to scan over the letter and a wicked smile to plant itself on his face. "Oh this should be quite interesting." Dawn said with a chuckle before looking back to the boy in front of him. "Thank you William, you are such a helpful child." He said as he gently stroked the William's cheek, his skin seemingly becoming smoother as Dawn touched him. "It would seem I have some business to attend to. I trust you can manage things in my absence, yes?" Dawn said which spurred a quick and shaky nod from William. Just as Dawn began to leave the beast that he had been so enticed with moments ago began to stir. "Oh and please make sure that she doesn't get out while I am gone, I still have much work to do with her." Dawn said, getting yet another nod from the boy, before heading out and into the night of what would most defiantly be filled with exciting.
Major Ursa Springy Ferret
Member
Seen
19 days ago
“What is he doing?”
The light, beaming down on him, was blinding. His pale fingers grazed over the surface of the sand, leaving trails along the surface, before he took to digging his fingers in. Grabbing a handful, he raised the fist and let the sand trail down…most of it getting in his sleeve.
“Why is there so much sand in here?”
“It’s only sand. Surely you ca—“
“Yeah, right, why did is he lying on a pile of sand on my new leather sofa? I just…I’m out.”
There was the sound of a door slamming shut, in the distance, but it was quickly forgotten. There were some sharp heel clicks, and the light far above him was obscured by a face looking down at him. Brushing his white hair back and over out his face, he squinted slightly to focus on the evidently upset face of the woman. Middle aged woman. It felt like he had blinked, and she had aged twenty years.
Shooting her a smile and sitting himself up, Antares heard her sigh and felt the woman reach over to brush the sand off of his leather jacket. She sighed, and he mimicked the action himself, sighing. Sighing, letting out a breath…he didn’t need to breath. Turning to face the woman, setting his shoe and bare foot on the sand covered floor, “Julie, why was your brother so upset? It’s peculiar, he’s been sleeping in sand for weeks now…”
Letting out a small laugh, before dropping herself onto his lap, ‘Julie’ pulled the vampire’s head closer…face now at the crook of her neck, he could feel the subtle movements as she spoke to him, even the blood flowing through her veins. He knew she knew he could feel it, “Lets forget about him, how was that staycation of yours?”
“…”
“Hello, Antares?”
“Oh…of course, yet. Staycation, was it?” His eyes went over to the lamp he had stared at for a while, but, “You are home early. Has something of note come up?” The woman let out a sigh, before getting up off of him, making her way to another room. Waiting, he heard the lamp whisper something about the weather a few days ago in Spain, and he couldn’t agree more.
Returning with a number of folded clothing pieces, the pale vampire was already without his leather jacket, removing his shirt now. The sand around him hadn’t disappeared, but it was ‘gone’, in a sense. For a moment, he anticipated his hair pulled into a man bun, as the middle aged woman played with his hair.
Touching the tops of his ears as she stood behind him with tapered fingernails, his white hair swayed just as as he slowly tilted his head back to look at her, and she took this opportunity to tell him what he wanted to know, “Walkley has business out of country," Her tone was a little flat, like a pizza..."But he wanted me to let you know that the Prince is holding an important private meeting that he thought you should attend. I’ll arrange for someone to bring you over, in the meantime…can you go take a quick shower?”
“Ah, hmm?”
Moving her face closer, she kissed his temple gently, before reaching out to brush some loose sand from his shoulder, “You smell like the ocean.”
“Ah, but I’m quite fond of the scent of the ocean...” Pink eyes were lazily trained on her neck, trailing back to her eyes.
“Take that shower.”
The light, beaming down on him, was blinding. His pale fingers grazed over the surface of the sand, leaving trails along the surface, before he took to digging his fingers in. Grabbing a handful, he raised the fist and let the sand trail down…most of it getting in his sleeve.
“Why is there so much sand in here?”
“It’s only sand. Surely you ca—“
“Yeah, right, why did is he lying on a pile of sand on my new leather sofa? I just…I’m out.”
There was the sound of a door slamming shut, in the distance, but it was quickly forgotten. There were some sharp heel clicks, and the light far above him was obscured by a face looking down at him. Brushing his white hair back and over out his face, he squinted slightly to focus on the evidently upset face of the woman. Middle aged woman. It felt like he had blinked, and she had aged twenty years.
Shooting her a smile and sitting himself up, Antares heard her sigh and felt the woman reach over to brush the sand off of his leather jacket. She sighed, and he mimicked the action himself, sighing. Sighing, letting out a breath…he didn’t need to breath. Turning to face the woman, setting his shoe and bare foot on the sand covered floor, “Julie, why was your brother so upset? It’s peculiar, he’s been sleeping in sand for weeks now…”
Letting out a small laugh, before dropping herself onto his lap, ‘Julie’ pulled the vampire’s head closer…face now at the crook of her neck, he could feel the subtle movements as she spoke to him, even the blood flowing through her veins. He knew she knew he could feel it, “Lets forget about him, how was that staycation of yours?”
“…”
“Hello, Antares?”
“Oh…of course, yet. Staycation, was it?” His eyes went over to the lamp he had stared at for a while, but, “You are home early. Has something of note come up?” The woman let out a sigh, before getting up off of him, making her way to another room. Waiting, he heard the lamp whisper something about the weather a few days ago in Spain, and he couldn’t agree more.
Returning with a number of folded clothing pieces, the pale vampire was already without his leather jacket, removing his shirt now. The sand around him hadn’t disappeared, but it was ‘gone’, in a sense. For a moment, he anticipated his hair pulled into a man bun, as the middle aged woman played with his hair.
Touching the tops of his ears as she stood behind him with tapered fingernails, his white hair swayed just as as he slowly tilted his head back to look at her, and she took this opportunity to tell him what he wanted to know, “Walkley has business out of country," Her tone was a little flat, like a pizza..."But he wanted me to let you know that the Prince is holding an important private meeting that he thought you should attend. I’ll arrange for someone to bring you over, in the meantime…can you go take a quick shower?”
“Ah, hmm?”
Moving her face closer, she kissed his temple gently, before reaching out to brush some loose sand from his shoulder, “You smell like the ocean.”
“Ah, but I’m quite fond of the scent of the ocean...” Pink eyes were lazily trained on her neck, trailing back to her eyes.
“Take that shower.”
AtlasRedfox Temporarily lost.....
Member
Seen
4 mos ago
Aveline screamed a vile list of French profanities as she threw a glass perfume spritzer at her dressing rooms ornate full length mirror starting a cobweb of cracks from the impact. She had not long come off stage for the night when Sinnett- her sire, entered through her rooms side door.
"That little BITCH! I want her here NOW! Petite chienne sale sec!" While Aveline's native tongue had faded over the years she could still flawlessly curse, each word rolling like sweet song to the ear. "Did you SEE! Did you see what she did! It was intentional! She wanted him for herself, SALOPE!" With dramatic flair she flung her jewelled headpiece off which tonights burlesque performance required, she furiously paced the room in all but a few appropriately placed pieces of sequenced fabric.
Sinnett gently smiled at his tempestuous childe as he gathered one of her pretty silk robes, holding it open and motioning for her to dress "Mon renard It was only an accident, it wasn't intentional". He was referring to the young waitress who accidentally bumped the table of Aveline's mark interrupting her dominating gaze. Aveline continued muttering in tongue as she slipped on the silk over her milky white skin "He is a waste of your talent... You are too exquisite for that old fool." he purred into her ear.
Aveline turned to face her sire, his frost blue eyes still as mesmerising as the first time she saw them. A small smile creeped across her cherry red painted lips "I am aren't I" she relished in her sires words as she sauntered over to her dressing table, sitting on top and ever so enticingly ladylike crossing her legs.
"Besides, I want you to take little trip.." Sinnett played with his gold vintage pocket watch that he kept attached to his wool grey suit vest. For all the years that they have been together his still preferred to dress in the old styles, mind you it suited him to a tee "I want you to go to Washington." he added.
"Why?.... It's such a mundane place" she groaned. Her last visit was decades ago, a short stay for Aveline as it lacked a certain glamour that she found appealing.
"I have been ever so gracefully requested by the cities Prince, A Ventrue I believe" Sinnett moved closer.
Aveline rolled honey coloured eyes "and your not a dog that will be called to heel" unimpressed she slid off the dresser "So your sending me instead..."
"Exactly mon renard.... You will be my representative at their little Camarilla gathering, Tristan will go with you, he will tell you what you need to know."
The room was lavishly furnished and dimly lit with a soft golden glow creating shadows along the will lined with elaborate masks and feathered head pieces as they moved with a few inches of each other, Aveline reached her fingers into his soft curling mop like sandy blonde hair, she could feel it in her body that he was up to something.
Before he eagerly embraced her mouth he muttered "Les conseils d'un renard est dangereux pour les poulets."
His reason became clear to her at that moment.
Mon Renard- French for 'my fox'
"The advice of a fox is dangerous for chickens"
"That little BITCH! I want her here NOW! Petite chienne sale sec!" While Aveline's native tongue had faded over the years she could still flawlessly curse, each word rolling like sweet song to the ear. "Did you SEE! Did you see what she did! It was intentional! She wanted him for herself, SALOPE!" With dramatic flair she flung her jewelled headpiece off which tonights burlesque performance required, she furiously paced the room in all but a few appropriately placed pieces of sequenced fabric.
Sinnett gently smiled at his tempestuous childe as he gathered one of her pretty silk robes, holding it open and motioning for her to dress "Mon renard It was only an accident, it wasn't intentional". He was referring to the young waitress who accidentally bumped the table of Aveline's mark interrupting her dominating gaze. Aveline continued muttering in tongue as she slipped on the silk over her milky white skin "He is a waste of your talent... You are too exquisite for that old fool." he purred into her ear.
Aveline turned to face her sire, his frost blue eyes still as mesmerising as the first time she saw them. A small smile creeped across her cherry red painted lips "I am aren't I" she relished in her sires words as she sauntered over to her dressing table, sitting on top and ever so enticingly ladylike crossing her legs.
"Besides, I want you to take little trip.." Sinnett played with his gold vintage pocket watch that he kept attached to his wool grey suit vest. For all the years that they have been together his still preferred to dress in the old styles, mind you it suited him to a tee "I want you to go to Washington." he added.
"Why?.... It's such a mundane place" she groaned. Her last visit was decades ago, a short stay for Aveline as it lacked a certain glamour that she found appealing.
"I have been ever so gracefully requested by the cities Prince, A Ventrue I believe" Sinnett moved closer.
Aveline rolled honey coloured eyes "and your not a dog that will be called to heel" unimpressed she slid off the dresser "So your sending me instead..."
"Exactly mon renard.... You will be my representative at their little Camarilla gathering, Tristan will go with you, he will tell you what you need to know."
The room was lavishly furnished and dimly lit with a soft golden glow creating shadows along the will lined with elaborate masks and feathered head pieces as they moved with a few inches of each other, Aveline reached her fingers into his soft curling mop like sandy blonde hair, she could feel it in her body that he was up to something.
Before he eagerly embraced her mouth he muttered "Les conseils d'un renard est dangereux pour les poulets."
His reason became clear to her at that moment.
Mon Renard- French for 'my fox'
"The advice of a fox is dangerous for chickens"
AtlasRedfox Temporarily lost.....
Member
Seen
4 mos ago
.
Subject Zero King of the monkeys.
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
She had descended upon their home like a mist, creeping in through the window as they slept.
Raven Brooke had entered the Williams family residence in the middle of the night. She had little malicious intent however. She had only come to relieve them of the burden of their property. To transfer ownership of goods....To steal all their stuff basically. But after pilfering a gold watch, a wallet, a ring or two and, for some reason, some fake plastic eyeballs, she had somehow lost interest.
She spent a moment or two standing by the bedside of the resident couple of vanilla normals that currently slept there. She considered feeding on one of them, more out of boredom than hunger. She bent at the waist with her arms clasped firmly behind her back as she grew closer to the young woman who lay contently sleeping beside her lover. She bore something of a passing resemblance to Raven herself. Blonde hair, flawless skin. But Charity Williams had much more colour in her cheeks than Raven ever had, even when she was alive. For a moment, Raven considered what it would be like. To have a normal life. A family. To attend PTA meetings, dance recitals and football games. To bake cookies and drive a minivan.
"A living nightmare" Raven thought to herself. Raven's expression of mild curiosity turned to outright disgust as she turned to leave. She quickly stopped as she accidentally grazed something with her foot, dragging it slightly out from under the bed. Raven glanced at the young couple in the bed to make sure they didn't wake. They didn't make a move and so Raven crouched down to see what she had kicked. Much to her surprise and delight, it was a violin case. "Why would you keep something like this hidden away under a bed?" Raven thought with another glance at the normals. She opened the case and her grin grew wide at the beautiful instrument within. Raven adored music. The one fond memory she had of her childhood was her father playing the violin. The man was a brute and a cretin but he did make beautiful music. She delicately removed the violin and its bow from the case as though it were a puppy. She almost cooed at it. More so because it would fetch a pretty penny than anything else. After a quick inspection, she rose to her feet with the violin still in hand and, without a sound, made her way out of the bedroom.
In the hallway outside, she stopped as her attention was drawn to a photo on the wall. A photo of the whole family standing in front of a yacht. Mr Williams' prized possession, judging by the ridiculous grin plastered on his face. Raven peered in close to read the name on the vessel. "The Puddle Jumper" she whispered to no one. She thought about that for a second then cringed. "What a terrible name." She stared at this photo for a long moment as she considered the possibilities. She could hop down to the marina and relieve Mr Williams of his yacht. But what possible use could she have for a yacht? She could sell it of course but attempting to sell such a large item would probably bring her far more attention than she desired. She ultimately decided to leave Mr Williams with his precious little boat.
But just as she was about to leave, she felt a presence. She turned her head sharply to see a young girl, no more than five years old, standing at the end of the hallway. "Crap" Raven muttered to herself. All this work to not be seen and she had still let a child see her.
"Are you the toof faywee?" the brat sleepily asked in butchered English.
Raven stared at the girl for a second then looked herself up and down. What kind of tooth fairy would wear a leather duster and high tops? "This child must be slow" Raven thought. But it did offer her an opportunity to leave without too much hassle. "Why yes, dear" she replied in a hushed tone so as not to wake the parents "I'm the tooth fairy" She flashed the girl a smile, making a concerted effort not to make it look like the smile of a predator or just a plain old lunatic. The girl's smile back at her told her that she had succeeded. The girl then proceeded to present to her a loose tooth which quickly wiped the smile from Raven's face. The girl stood there, proud as punch with her tooth in her hand. Raven really didn't want to touch that thing. The tooth or the child. But she knew that she'd have to if she wanted to get out of here with the minimal fuss. So reluctantly and slowly she moved towards the girl. Hesitantly, she plucked the tooth from the girl's fingers and said "...Thank you."
The girl stared back at her with a dopey smile for a moment then said "Well?"
"Well what?" Raven replied.
"You're supposed to give me money" she chirped with an alarmingly cheery tone.
Oh that's right. The tooth fairy was supposed to leave money. This had started out as a simple robbery and now she was being extorted by a child. Raven reached into her jacket and pulled out a note. "Can you break a fifty?" she asked.
The girl simply stared back at her blankly.
"Fine" Raven said with a roll of her eyes "Here" She shoved the money at the girl who snatched it up greedily and smiled. Raven stared at her for another moment, eyeing her up, before saying "You've got a bright future in larceny child...That or banking"
It was then that Raven felt something vibrate inside her jacket and again reached in to pull out her phone. She knew who the text was from before she even looked at it. The only person she gave this number to was Ronny Nassar, her trusted ghoul. The message read "You've been summoned by the high and mighty lord douchebag. Attend as soon as possible. Better not keep him waiting."
Raven knew exactly who Ronny meant. Cranston. Despite never having met the man, Ronny hated Cranston, simply on account of the vampire being a Ventrue. Ronny had a deep rooted hatred of the Ventrue and since Cranston was the big man of the clan, Ronny hated him most of all. Of course he always kept a civil tongue in his mouth when speaking to anyone other than Raven about the matter. Ronny had been a marine in previous years and so he could handle himself if his big mouth got him into trouble but messing with the Ventrue clan was more than he could deal with.
What did Cranston want now? Raven knew that Ronny was right. Men like Cranston didn't like to be kept waiting. She eyed the girl from the corner of her eye and in a hushed tone asked "What's your name, girl?"
"Jooweee" the girl answered, mirroring Raven's tone with a proud smile.
"Well. Joowee-I mean Julie" Raven began as she crouched down to the girls level and locked eyes with her. "You mustn't tell anyone I was here, okay?"
Julie nodded in understanding and Raven winked at her like they had made a secret pact.
And with that, Raven rose to her feet and moved towards the window at the end of the hallway. As she went, she placed the violin to her chin and began a slow and delicate tune. "Laaaaa laaaa la, la laaaaa" she half sung along. She was gone through the window and into the darkness, dropping silently to the street below seconds before Julie's parents emerged from their bedroom with confused expressions, clearly drawn by Raven's tune.
"What was that noise Julie?" asked mommy dearest.
"Nothing mommy" replied Julie as she turned and headed back into her room. She turned to face her parents again and before slowly closing her door said with a gap toothed smile "Just the toof faywee"
Raven Brooke had entered the Williams family residence in the middle of the night. She had little malicious intent however. She had only come to relieve them of the burden of their property. To transfer ownership of goods....To steal all their stuff basically. But after pilfering a gold watch, a wallet, a ring or two and, for some reason, some fake plastic eyeballs, she had somehow lost interest.
She spent a moment or two standing by the bedside of the resident couple of vanilla normals that currently slept there. She considered feeding on one of them, more out of boredom than hunger. She bent at the waist with her arms clasped firmly behind her back as she grew closer to the young woman who lay contently sleeping beside her lover. She bore something of a passing resemblance to Raven herself. Blonde hair, flawless skin. But Charity Williams had much more colour in her cheeks than Raven ever had, even when she was alive. For a moment, Raven considered what it would be like. To have a normal life. A family. To attend PTA meetings, dance recitals and football games. To bake cookies and drive a minivan.
"A living nightmare" Raven thought to herself. Raven's expression of mild curiosity turned to outright disgust as she turned to leave. She quickly stopped as she accidentally grazed something with her foot, dragging it slightly out from under the bed. Raven glanced at the young couple in the bed to make sure they didn't wake. They didn't make a move and so Raven crouched down to see what she had kicked. Much to her surprise and delight, it was a violin case. "Why would you keep something like this hidden away under a bed?" Raven thought with another glance at the normals. She opened the case and her grin grew wide at the beautiful instrument within. Raven adored music. The one fond memory she had of her childhood was her father playing the violin. The man was a brute and a cretin but he did make beautiful music. She delicately removed the violin and its bow from the case as though it were a puppy. She almost cooed at it. More so because it would fetch a pretty penny than anything else. After a quick inspection, she rose to her feet with the violin still in hand and, without a sound, made her way out of the bedroom.
In the hallway outside, she stopped as her attention was drawn to a photo on the wall. A photo of the whole family standing in front of a yacht. Mr Williams' prized possession, judging by the ridiculous grin plastered on his face. Raven peered in close to read the name on the vessel. "The Puddle Jumper" she whispered to no one. She thought about that for a second then cringed. "What a terrible name." She stared at this photo for a long moment as she considered the possibilities. She could hop down to the marina and relieve Mr Williams of his yacht. But what possible use could she have for a yacht? She could sell it of course but attempting to sell such a large item would probably bring her far more attention than she desired. She ultimately decided to leave Mr Williams with his precious little boat.
But just as she was about to leave, she felt a presence. She turned her head sharply to see a young girl, no more than five years old, standing at the end of the hallway. "Crap" Raven muttered to herself. All this work to not be seen and she had still let a child see her.
"Are you the toof faywee?" the brat sleepily asked in butchered English.
Raven stared at the girl for a second then looked herself up and down. What kind of tooth fairy would wear a leather duster and high tops? "This child must be slow" Raven thought. But it did offer her an opportunity to leave without too much hassle. "Why yes, dear" she replied in a hushed tone so as not to wake the parents "I'm the tooth fairy" She flashed the girl a smile, making a concerted effort not to make it look like the smile of a predator or just a plain old lunatic. The girl's smile back at her told her that she had succeeded. The girl then proceeded to present to her a loose tooth which quickly wiped the smile from Raven's face. The girl stood there, proud as punch with her tooth in her hand. Raven really didn't want to touch that thing. The tooth or the child. But she knew that she'd have to if she wanted to get out of here with the minimal fuss. So reluctantly and slowly she moved towards the girl. Hesitantly, she plucked the tooth from the girl's fingers and said "...Thank you."
The girl stared back at her with a dopey smile for a moment then said "Well?"
"Well what?" Raven replied.
"You're supposed to give me money" she chirped with an alarmingly cheery tone.
Oh that's right. The tooth fairy was supposed to leave money. This had started out as a simple robbery and now she was being extorted by a child. Raven reached into her jacket and pulled out a note. "Can you break a fifty?" she asked.
The girl simply stared back at her blankly.
"Fine" Raven said with a roll of her eyes "Here" She shoved the money at the girl who snatched it up greedily and smiled. Raven stared at her for another moment, eyeing her up, before saying "You've got a bright future in larceny child...That or banking"
It was then that Raven felt something vibrate inside her jacket and again reached in to pull out her phone. She knew who the text was from before she even looked at it. The only person she gave this number to was Ronny Nassar, her trusted ghoul. The message read "You've been summoned by the high and mighty lord douchebag. Attend as soon as possible. Better not keep him waiting."
Raven knew exactly who Ronny meant. Cranston. Despite never having met the man, Ronny hated Cranston, simply on account of the vampire being a Ventrue. Ronny had a deep rooted hatred of the Ventrue and since Cranston was the big man of the clan, Ronny hated him most of all. Of course he always kept a civil tongue in his mouth when speaking to anyone other than Raven about the matter. Ronny had been a marine in previous years and so he could handle himself if his big mouth got him into trouble but messing with the Ventrue clan was more than he could deal with.
What did Cranston want now? Raven knew that Ronny was right. Men like Cranston didn't like to be kept waiting. She eyed the girl from the corner of her eye and in a hushed tone asked "What's your name, girl?"
"Jooweee" the girl answered, mirroring Raven's tone with a proud smile.
"Well. Joowee-I mean Julie" Raven began as she crouched down to the girls level and locked eyes with her. "You mustn't tell anyone I was here, okay?"
Julie nodded in understanding and Raven winked at her like they had made a secret pact.
And with that, Raven rose to her feet and moved towards the window at the end of the hallway. As she went, she placed the violin to her chin and began a slow and delicate tune. "Laaaaa laaaa la, la laaaaa" she half sung along. She was gone through the window and into the darkness, dropping silently to the street below seconds before Julie's parents emerged from their bedroom with confused expressions, clearly drawn by Raven's tune.
"What was that noise Julie?" asked mommy dearest.
"Nothing mommy" replied Julie as she turned and headed back into her room. She turned to face her parents again and before slowly closing her door said with a gap toothed smile "Just the toof faywee"
Reggie didn’t much like America.
The people were loud, rude, fat, and the garish, yellow cabs speeding through the streets weren’t exactly easy on the eyes.
Of course, Reggie wasn’t the saintliest of characters either, but he liked to think he was a step above them.
So, why was he here again?
Well, thanks to a favour he owed his sire - one Mr. Gallo Alberici - he’d had to catch a flight from London to Washington in the dead of night. While these so-called “business trips” were no stranger to Reggie, it was rather ridiculous, and also a tad insulting how they all had to bend over backwards to accommodate Cranston’s every request. The Ventrues were all a bunch of uppity fascists who felt like the Camarilla, or hell, the rest of the world owed them something.
...Then again, the guy was the president of the United States, so maybe he was obligated a modicum of respect. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. No matter how they put it, no matter how much they talked about the good they were doing for vampires, it just never seemed to sit right with him. Whatever they did, it was for their own gain. Nothing more, and the rest of the Camarilla were blind not to see it. Underneath his slurring, whiskey-fugged facade, Reggie’s blood boiled, and he had the feeling that most of the Brujah felt the same way. Even those who called themselves True Brujah like a bunch of truly separatist pricks.
One day, the Ventrue will see their end - he thought, as he stepped off the pavement and onto the asphalt, flagging down a cab. But that day, unfortunately, was not going to be today. After all, they did have one of their own sitting on the metaphorical throne. For now, however, he had better things to worry about - like getting to this little parley on time, for example. Before meeting up with Cranston later that night, there was much to discuss with Mr. Alberici, as he insisted on being called, for some inane, frivolous reason (not that Reggie cared, that is). He’d flew in from Vatican City the day before, and was now, presumably, stationed at the Hilton.
Now, “stationed” was a term Reggie used loosely. Chances were, that Italian bastard was just lying around his suite, waiting to issue him an order under the pretense of a friendly request.
Fucking wanker.
“Where’re you headed?” the cabbie’s voice snapped Reggie out of his anti-reverie, and he slid smoothly into the passenger seat, baring his teeth in a grin.
“The Hilton, darlin’, quick as you can.”
After all these years of travelling, Reggie’s inflection was still flavoured with sharp stabs of Cockney. The realisation that he was a foreigner quickly dawned on the cabbie (a squat, middle-aged Latino with a glaring bald spot right at the top of his head), and he regarded the term of endearment with nothing more than a roll of the eyes before peeling into the next road, towards their destination.
Room 856.
The woman at the concierge had been reluctant to let Reggie trawl through the building without a room of his own, but with a few choice words, the woman eventually relented. Easy smiles, and light touches on the hand, that was always all it took, and it didn’t take long until she reciprocated his advances. Perks of being a vampire, he supposed. Ease of persuasion was something he couldn’t deny.
She was a tall, blonde affair, with glittering green eyes and legs that just don’t stop. In another life, she might’ve even been Reggie’s type, and he made a mental note to himself to pay her a visit if he found some time to spare. He had half a mind to take her round to the back stairwells, sinking his fangs into her neck, the taste of her blood staining his tongue. But alas, now was not the time to get distracted. This was a business trip, and he was nothing if not professional.
Right as he was about to knock, the door swung open, and standing face-to-face with Reggie was a man, seemingly in his mid to late forties, with pale, olive-tinted skin. His features were gaunt, nose aquiline, and his steely, grey eyes only narrowed when he saw just who was at his door, already thin lips pressing into an even thinner line.
“Good, you’re finally here. Come in.”
“What? Not even a hello? Salutations? How’s tricks?” Reggie snorted, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Fuckin’ hell, Gallo. What happened to, uh... what was it? Manners maketh man?”
In response, Gallo simply shot him a withering look, like he’d been invited to pet a hated neighbour’s dog.
“Sit down, Reginald. We have a lot to talk about.”
The people were loud, rude, fat, and the garish, yellow cabs speeding through the streets weren’t exactly easy on the eyes.
Of course, Reggie wasn’t the saintliest of characters either, but he liked to think he was a step above them.
So, why was he here again?
Well, thanks to a favour he owed his sire - one Mr. Gallo Alberici - he’d had to catch a flight from London to Washington in the dead of night. While these so-called “business trips” were no stranger to Reggie, it was rather ridiculous, and also a tad insulting how they all had to bend over backwards to accommodate Cranston’s every request. The Ventrues were all a bunch of uppity fascists who felt like the Camarilla, or hell, the rest of the world owed them something.
...Then again, the guy was the president of the United States, so maybe he was obligated a modicum of respect. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. No matter how they put it, no matter how much they talked about the good they were doing for vampires, it just never seemed to sit right with him. Whatever they did, it was for their own gain. Nothing more, and the rest of the Camarilla were blind not to see it. Underneath his slurring, whiskey-fugged facade, Reggie’s blood boiled, and he had the feeling that most of the Brujah felt the same way. Even those who called themselves True Brujah like a bunch of truly separatist pricks.
One day, the Ventrue will see their end - he thought, as he stepped off the pavement and onto the asphalt, flagging down a cab. But that day, unfortunately, was not going to be today. After all, they did have one of their own sitting on the metaphorical throne. For now, however, he had better things to worry about - like getting to this little parley on time, for example. Before meeting up with Cranston later that night, there was much to discuss with Mr. Alberici, as he insisted on being called, for some inane, frivolous reason (not that Reggie cared, that is). He’d flew in from Vatican City the day before, and was now, presumably, stationed at the Hilton.
Now, “stationed” was a term Reggie used loosely. Chances were, that Italian bastard was just lying around his suite, waiting to issue him an order under the pretense of a friendly request.
Fucking wanker.
“Where’re you headed?” the cabbie’s voice snapped Reggie out of his anti-reverie, and he slid smoothly into the passenger seat, baring his teeth in a grin.
“The Hilton, darlin’, quick as you can.”
After all these years of travelling, Reggie’s inflection was still flavoured with sharp stabs of Cockney. The realisation that he was a foreigner quickly dawned on the cabbie (a squat, middle-aged Latino with a glaring bald spot right at the top of his head), and he regarded the term of endearment with nothing more than a roll of the eyes before peeling into the next road, towards their destination.
Room 856.
The woman at the concierge had been reluctant to let Reggie trawl through the building without a room of his own, but with a few choice words, the woman eventually relented. Easy smiles, and light touches on the hand, that was always all it took, and it didn’t take long until she reciprocated his advances. Perks of being a vampire, he supposed. Ease of persuasion was something he couldn’t deny.
She was a tall, blonde affair, with glittering green eyes and legs that just don’t stop. In another life, she might’ve even been Reggie’s type, and he made a mental note to himself to pay her a visit if he found some time to spare. He had half a mind to take her round to the back stairwells, sinking his fangs into her neck, the taste of her blood staining his tongue. But alas, now was not the time to get distracted. This was a business trip, and he was nothing if not professional.
Right as he was about to knock, the door swung open, and standing face-to-face with Reggie was a man, seemingly in his mid to late forties, with pale, olive-tinted skin. His features were gaunt, nose aquiline, and his steely, grey eyes only narrowed when he saw just who was at his door, already thin lips pressing into an even thinner line.
“Good, you’re finally here. Come in.”
“What? Not even a hello? Salutations? How’s tricks?” Reggie snorted, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Fuckin’ hell, Gallo. What happened to, uh... what was it? Manners maketh man?”
In response, Gallo simply shot him a withering look, like he’d been invited to pet a hated neighbour’s dog.
“Sit down, Reginald. We have a lot to talk about.”
GM
Lord Coake The Man Who Sold the World
Member
Seen
8 yrs ago
After two days of phone calls, bribery, plane trips, and yelling, Cranston's meeting had finally been assembled, and not a moment too soon. He had just received word the day before that the Catholic Church had officially ordered the Inquisition to begin acting. In the meeting hall, Cranston sat at the head of the table, and made the official announcement. "The Catholic Inquisition is back, in full force. This is the first time we've had to deal with a full-fledged organization hunting us down since the Renaissance Era. They've already kidnapped my Vice President and fellow Kindred, Nathaniel LaChance. Now, his official interrogation and execution is not for a few days, so we have time to act. I'm not giving orders on this. I'm requesting volunteers. I need a team willing to work together to stop them, rescue LaChance, and go from there. Show of hands, who's willing to be a part of this?" Cranston did his best to hide the sheer dread inside him, Kindred weren't exactly known for their loyalty and willingness to help others, after all.
Lady Absinthia ⚘ Blossoming ⚘
Member
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25 days ago
Migs opened the door of the sedan and Veta stepped out, glancing around for a moment before looking towards Migs and perking a quizzical brow in question.
"I thought I was being take to the meeting," she said in a hushed voice, clutching her tablet against her chest.
"You are, it is here. Let us get you checked in Ma'am and then I'll escort you," he said cordially before grabbing her luggage from the trunk.
They were ready for Veta at the front desk and she was quickly whisked away to her suite. Taking little time to settle in and freshen up from the flight as Migs kept post outside of her rooms door. Once she was ready he led her to the conference room that had been secured and gave her a wink.
"I'll be right here if you need anything Ma'am."
Veta nodded and stepped in, taking a seat in a random place; not caring which since she was not there as a power play. She opted to take a neutral place for now. Leaning back she crossed her legs and waited, listening in silence and from time to time glancing over to any others there while it was explained why they had been summoned so quickly.
"You have the backing of my house," Veta said as she rested her hands in her lap. "Though I suspect we need more information. A layout of the location he taken from so we can work put how each location was breached. Phone and internet logs for the last month's from him. Location of where he is being held if you have such and if not possible locations that come to mind. It is something I am sure you have already been thinking about while you awaited our arrival.
As well as an understanding that us doing this means we put the fate of our kind as a whole over that of one individual. Sometimes sacrifice mist be made for the greater good, as it were. I am not saying I will not try to bring him back alive but if I have to chose between him or us as a race, I chose my race."
Veta was quick and to the point in her response but her vocal tone held a great deal of respect in it when she spoke, it normally did.
"I thought I was being take to the meeting," she said in a hushed voice, clutching her tablet against her chest.
"You are, it is here. Let us get you checked in Ma'am and then I'll escort you," he said cordially before grabbing her luggage from the trunk.
They were ready for Veta at the front desk and she was quickly whisked away to her suite. Taking little time to settle in and freshen up from the flight as Migs kept post outside of her rooms door. Once she was ready he led her to the conference room that had been secured and gave her a wink.
"I'll be right here if you need anything Ma'am."
Veta nodded and stepped in, taking a seat in a random place; not caring which since she was not there as a power play. She opted to take a neutral place for now. Leaning back she crossed her legs and waited, listening in silence and from time to time glancing over to any others there while it was explained why they had been summoned so quickly.
"You have the backing of my house," Veta said as she rested her hands in her lap. "Though I suspect we need more information. A layout of the location he taken from so we can work put how each location was breached. Phone and internet logs for the last month's from him. Location of where he is being held if you have such and if not possible locations that come to mind. It is something I am sure you have already been thinking about while you awaited our arrival.
As well as an understanding that us doing this means we put the fate of our kind as a whole over that of one individual. Sometimes sacrifice mist be made for the greater good, as it were. I am not saying I will not try to bring him back alive but if I have to chose between him or us as a race, I chose my race."
Veta was quick and to the point in her response but her vocal tone held a great deal of respect in it when she spoke, it normally did.
Saarebas Wandering Wild Magic Fanatic
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
"Thank you ever so much for the ride darling, I will make sure to ring you soon if I need your services again." Dawn said, his voice a practical purr, into the ear of the chauffeur of the car he had just stepped out of. The chauffeur was a strapping young lad with dark blonde hair and a pair of stunning hazel eyes. Dawn stroked the chauffer's cheek, sending shivers down the young man's spine, and gave him a quick wink before he bid the driver a final farewell and gracefully spun on his heels to face his destination, one of the many extravagant hotels that dotted the DC area and provided shelter to traveling dignitaries of both the living and the dead.
It didn't take Dawn too long to reach the meeting room that he and what seemed to be many others had been summoned to. It was child's play talking his way past the receptionist, the poor girl had probably fell under the sway of many Kindred that evening as this meeting was called. After entering the rather dazzling room that this summonses was being held Dawn found him a seat closer to the head of the table among the other elders in attendance. Dawn listened to the hushed murmurs that spread through the gathering of Kindred with a special interest, a devilish smirk on his face. It was always entertaining to watch his fellow elders play their little game of showmanship, trying to impress one another with their newest tales of their exploits or better yet get back at each other over slights that had been committed centuries ago. Sadly the show Dawn was enjoying was cut short when the reason they were all here for presented itself.
Cranston presented himself just as Dawn expected, a mighty prince that was looking out for the well being for his subjects. Even though Dawn didn't believe that was true for a second he still found the acting amusing. Just as Dawn had predicted this was turning out to be quite the interesting affair, the return of the Inquisition would be no less. Dawn allowed a few other Kindred to speak first before he rose from his seat and added his words to the meeting. "You of course have my full support on this matter my Prince. It would be my honor to aid in the combatting of this threat that does indeed threaten the very nature of our damnation." Dawn said with a slight bow before he straightened up and continued. "But as the ever so lovely Neonate has pointed out I would need more information before I can truly give my help in earnest." Dawn said with a small gesture towards Veta before he finished.
It didn't take Dawn too long to reach the meeting room that he and what seemed to be many others had been summoned to. It was child's play talking his way past the receptionist, the poor girl had probably fell under the sway of many Kindred that evening as this meeting was called. After entering the rather dazzling room that this summonses was being held Dawn found him a seat closer to the head of the table among the other elders in attendance. Dawn listened to the hushed murmurs that spread through the gathering of Kindred with a special interest, a devilish smirk on his face. It was always entertaining to watch his fellow elders play their little game of showmanship, trying to impress one another with their newest tales of their exploits or better yet get back at each other over slights that had been committed centuries ago. Sadly the show Dawn was enjoying was cut short when the reason they were all here for presented itself.
Cranston presented himself just as Dawn expected, a mighty prince that was looking out for the well being for his subjects. Even though Dawn didn't believe that was true for a second he still found the acting amusing. Just as Dawn had predicted this was turning out to be quite the interesting affair, the return of the Inquisition would be no less. Dawn allowed a few other Kindred to speak first before he rose from his seat and added his words to the meeting. "You of course have my full support on this matter my Prince. It would be my honor to aid in the combatting of this threat that does indeed threaten the very nature of our damnation." Dawn said with a slight bow before he straightened up and continued. "But as the ever so lovely Neonate has pointed out I would need more information before I can truly give my help in earnest." Dawn said with a small gesture towards Veta before he finished.
Grimoire Gaming Unseelie Faerie
Member
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9 hrs ago
The ride to the meeting location was smooth and quick, as the airport was only a few blocks away. Peridot didn’t expect the meeting to be in a hotel, but she was sure Cranston had his reasons for it. The driver insisted on escorting her inside, as if she was some fragile flower. It was most likely just for formality's sake, so she went with it.
The front desk receptionist seemed rather dazed when Peridot approached her, though she successfully informed her of the direction of the meeting room. “Thank you.” Peri said with a formal nod of her head and went on her way, waving politely to her driver/escort as she left.
Peridot wanted to make up for her young age and inexperience by arriving as early as possible and quietly taking a seat. Prince Cranston said his piece once everyone had arrived, informing them that the Catholic Inquisition was back in full force, and they had already kidnapped the Kindred vice president, Nathaniel LaChance. This meeting was a call for volunteers.
The first to respond was a fiery redheaded woman who offered the backing of her house and boldly asked for more information in a dramatic monologue. The second to speak up was also a beautiful redhead whose gender was less discernable than the first. Peridot was surprised that they addressed her as ‘Neonate’ rather than what she more obviously was - a tremere. If there was one main social Pariah among Kindred circles, it was the Tremere clan, their mere existence as a bastard mix of alchemy and vampirism brought forth fear and suspicion among the other clans. And if this girl was considered a ‘Neonate’ what then would they think of her pathetic 54 years?
Self-consciousness had Peridot sitting up a little straighter and carefully planning her words. She wanted to make Slick proud of choosing her for this mission, and that started with not sounding like a naive child. It might be a low move, but Peri upped her presence before speaking, so her words would be well-received. “With more information, I too would gladly offer my blade for the Kindred cause.” Her words were theatrical and charming, keeping with Toreador fashion.
Subject Zero King of the monkeys.
Member
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4 yrs ago
Raven had never been fond of being summoned. In time gone by, Gabriella would be the one summoned to a meeting of influential kindred. But Gabriella was gone and so the responsibility fell to Raven. She was sure there were other, more influential Gangrel out there that could better represent the clan than her, but many Gangrel were not fond of the Camarilla as a whole. Raven herself, while not exactly a fan, didn't exactly dislike the organization she was loosely a part of. And she had already formed a working, if somewhat cold, relationship with Cranston. But that did nothing to alleviate her dislike of being summoned.
It did, however, afford her an opportunity to spread her wings. Quite literally. The vampire had taken the form of her namesake animal, a raven, and taken to the sky to make her way to the meeting. This was Raven's favourite part of her undead life. Taking the shape of another creature hadn't lost any of its charm in her five centuries. Soaring through the air on open wings or running through the forest on four legs gave her more happiness than she had ever known when she was alive.
Raven had Ronny call ahead to ensure a window be left open for her. She seemed to have a penchant for entering through windows. Once inside the building, Raven shifted back into human form. She was still dressed in her high tops and leather duster. She hadn't bothered to dress up like she knew so many of the others were likely to do when attending a meeting such as this. Raven didn't see the point. She had no desire to impress the others with fancy outfits. She had no desire to impress anyone. She had stopped caring about such things long ago. At least as far as her fellow kindred were concerned. It was always fun to inspire awe in the normals. And as she made her way to the meeting room, she certainly did that. She was quite a sight as she swished her way down the hallway, looking firmly out of place in such a fancy establishment in her current attire. She passed a young couple, arm in arm, who shifted in towards the wall as she passed. She made a kissing motion at them and carried on without breaking her stride.
There were a number of ghoul bodyguards lurking around outside the meeting room. No doubt Cranston's people. She didn't recognize the majority of them but the that she did recognize from previous meetings obviously recognized her too and opened the door to the meeting room for her. She gave him a nod as she passed into the room and observed the others there. Her eyes narrowed as they locked onto the androgynous character seated near the head of the table. Raven did not like Tzimisce. Their penchant for distorting and mutating beauty left Raven with an uneasy feeling. She tried not to think about it however as she took a seat. As one of the oldest in attendance, she would likely have been expected to take a seat close to the head of the table but instead dropped down at the opposite end, directly across from Cranston. She wanted to keep as much distance between her and Sanguina as possible. She swung her feet up onto the large table and reclined in her chair as she listened to Cranston explain why they had all been summoned.
The Inquisition? Raven had to admit, she had not expected that. She thought those fanatics had hung up their pitchforks and torches a long time ago. But apparently not. And not only were they back but they also had the audacity to kidnap the vice president? Raven wondered, if they knew about the vice president being kindred, did that mean they knew about Cranston too? She cocked her head slightly at the Camarilla leader as the others in attendance voiced their willingness to help. Raven had always preferred to observe a situation before voicing her opinion. She peered at Cranston, trying to get a read on him. Nicholas Cranston was a politician and as such was well trained in hiding his true feelings. But much like an animal sensing a human's emotions, Raven felt like she could sense an undercurrent of fear in Cranston. She could understand this. Raven had run into the inquisition several times over the centuries and knew they were dangerous. Her initial impulse was to turn and run in the opposite direction but then a thought waved over her. If they inquisition were back, that meant they were up to their old tricks which usually involved shanking her kind. She was quickly filled with dread. Gabriella, her beloved sire had gone missing. Did the inquisition have something to do with that? Raven hoped not. Surely they would have made an appearance before now if they had been around since Gabriella vanished. But maybe they had just been keeping quiet. Maybe it was only their involvement with such a high profile individual that had brought them back into the spotlight. There were simply too many questions that needed answers and Raven couldn't afford to ignore this if there was even a small chance that the inquisition had anything to do with Gabriella's disappearance. After thinking about it for a brief moment, she jutted her chin at Cranston in silent agreement to help. Raven was always far less vocal than other kindred but this time it was motivated by a growing dread and increasing rage at the possibility that the inquisition had killed her sire. She had no evidence yet but if there was any out there, she would damn well find it.
It did, however, afford her an opportunity to spread her wings. Quite literally. The vampire had taken the form of her namesake animal, a raven, and taken to the sky to make her way to the meeting. This was Raven's favourite part of her undead life. Taking the shape of another creature hadn't lost any of its charm in her five centuries. Soaring through the air on open wings or running through the forest on four legs gave her more happiness than she had ever known when she was alive.
Raven had Ronny call ahead to ensure a window be left open for her. She seemed to have a penchant for entering through windows. Once inside the building, Raven shifted back into human form. She was still dressed in her high tops and leather duster. She hadn't bothered to dress up like she knew so many of the others were likely to do when attending a meeting such as this. Raven didn't see the point. She had no desire to impress the others with fancy outfits. She had no desire to impress anyone. She had stopped caring about such things long ago. At least as far as her fellow kindred were concerned. It was always fun to inspire awe in the normals. And as she made her way to the meeting room, she certainly did that. She was quite a sight as she swished her way down the hallway, looking firmly out of place in such a fancy establishment in her current attire. She passed a young couple, arm in arm, who shifted in towards the wall as she passed. She made a kissing motion at them and carried on without breaking her stride.
There were a number of ghoul bodyguards lurking around outside the meeting room. No doubt Cranston's people. She didn't recognize the majority of them but the that she did recognize from previous meetings obviously recognized her too and opened the door to the meeting room for her. She gave him a nod as she passed into the room and observed the others there. Her eyes narrowed as they locked onto the androgynous character seated near the head of the table. Raven did not like Tzimisce. Their penchant for distorting and mutating beauty left Raven with an uneasy feeling. She tried not to think about it however as she took a seat. As one of the oldest in attendance, she would likely have been expected to take a seat close to the head of the table but instead dropped down at the opposite end, directly across from Cranston. She wanted to keep as much distance between her and Sanguina as possible. She swung her feet up onto the large table and reclined in her chair as she listened to Cranston explain why they had all been summoned.
The Inquisition? Raven had to admit, she had not expected that. She thought those fanatics had hung up their pitchforks and torches a long time ago. But apparently not. And not only were they back but they also had the audacity to kidnap the vice president? Raven wondered, if they knew about the vice president being kindred, did that mean they knew about Cranston too? She cocked her head slightly at the Camarilla leader as the others in attendance voiced their willingness to help. Raven had always preferred to observe a situation before voicing her opinion. She peered at Cranston, trying to get a read on him. Nicholas Cranston was a politician and as such was well trained in hiding his true feelings. But much like an animal sensing a human's emotions, Raven felt like she could sense an undercurrent of fear in Cranston. She could understand this. Raven had run into the inquisition several times over the centuries and knew they were dangerous. Her initial impulse was to turn and run in the opposite direction but then a thought waved over her. If they inquisition were back, that meant they were up to their old tricks which usually involved shanking her kind. She was quickly filled with dread. Gabriella, her beloved sire had gone missing. Did the inquisition have something to do with that? Raven hoped not. Surely they would have made an appearance before now if they had been around since Gabriella vanished. But maybe they had just been keeping quiet. Maybe it was only their involvement with such a high profile individual that had brought them back into the spotlight. There were simply too many questions that needed answers and Raven couldn't afford to ignore this if there was even a small chance that the inquisition had anything to do with Gabriella's disappearance. After thinking about it for a brief moment, she jutted her chin at Cranston in silent agreement to help. Raven was always far less vocal than other kindred but this time it was motivated by a growing dread and increasing rage at the possibility that the inquisition had killed her sire. She had no evidence yet but if there was any out there, she would damn well find it.
AtlasRedfox Temporarily lost.....
Member
Seen
4 mos ago
Aveline twiddled with the satin gold bow tied onto the small pewter music box, lifting its lid it delicately began to play its tune, gazing fondly at the mismatched pair of human eyeballs- optic nerves still attached- inside the box her cherry red painted lips smiled as she recalled a nursery rhyme from when she was still a child "There was a man so wise, he jumped into a bramble bush and scratched out both his eyes" her voice was smooth and sing-song like "And when he saw his his eyes were out and reason to complain. He jumped back into a quickset hedge....and sewed them in again" she snapped the lid shut as her sedan door opened for her.
"Miss De Sauveterre" Her ghoul Tristan extended his hand which Aveline graciously accepted as she exited the vehicle. Their colour of their skin were a stark contrast, her own a deathly pale honey colour and his still lively and like burnt coffee from his African heritage.
The night air was cold, not that Aveline could feel the coolness but Tristan's breathing expelled a frosty breathe, their footsteps echoed along the walkway into lavishly decorated the foyer of the hotel. Ignoring the reception Aveline continued down the hallway, she could already feel her kindred in the building. It was like a constant hum under her ribs- she felt each kindred emanated a particular vibration and tonight she felt a mix of new and familiar. Finally she stopped before the Princes ghouls guarding the room, voices on the other side already deep in conversation. Aveline allowed Tristan take her fox fur collard overcoat before settling himself on the opposite wall to the Princes lackeys. Aveline smirked deliberately knowing she was late to the meeting as the door was opened for her.
With more information, I too would gladly offer my blade for the Kindred cause.” It was a pretty Toreador that spoke, she liked Toreador's for their artistic flair and they made excellent puppets.
Aveline made no hesitation to dramatically interrupt "Apologies Prince for my tardiness" she began to circle the table eyeing each member carefully "Aveline De Sauveterre on behalf of my Sire" she paused opposite her fellow Malkavian kin and acknowledged him with a deeply elegant bow "Sinnett sincerely apologises that he could not attend" Aveline continued towards an empty seat adjacent to Cranston, before taking a seat she pushed her gift box across the table towards him "But he has sent me to act as his hand" her sweet looking smile was nothing but fake.
Aveline took her seat, playing with her layered strings of pearls wrapped around her her neck she waited for the Prince to continue the meeting.
"Miss De Sauveterre" Her ghoul Tristan extended his hand which Aveline graciously accepted as she exited the vehicle. Their colour of their skin were a stark contrast, her own a deathly pale honey colour and his still lively and like burnt coffee from his African heritage.
The night air was cold, not that Aveline could feel the coolness but Tristan's breathing expelled a frosty breathe, their footsteps echoed along the walkway into lavishly decorated the foyer of the hotel. Ignoring the reception Aveline continued down the hallway, she could already feel her kindred in the building. It was like a constant hum under her ribs- she felt each kindred emanated a particular vibration and tonight she felt a mix of new and familiar. Finally she stopped before the Princes ghouls guarding the room, voices on the other side already deep in conversation. Aveline allowed Tristan take her fox fur collard overcoat before settling himself on the opposite wall to the Princes lackeys. Aveline smirked deliberately knowing she was late to the meeting as the door was opened for her.
With more information, I too would gladly offer my blade for the Kindred cause.” It was a pretty Toreador that spoke, she liked Toreador's for their artistic flair and they made excellent puppets.
Aveline made no hesitation to dramatically interrupt "Apologies Prince for my tardiness" she began to circle the table eyeing each member carefully "Aveline De Sauveterre on behalf of my Sire" she paused opposite her fellow Malkavian kin and acknowledged him with a deeply elegant bow "Sinnett sincerely apologises that he could not attend" Aveline continued towards an empty seat adjacent to Cranston, before taking a seat she pushed her gift box across the table towards him "But he has sent me to act as his hand" her sweet looking smile was nothing but fake.
Aveline took her seat, playing with her layered strings of pearls wrapped around her her neck she waited for the Prince to continue the meeting.
Major Ursa Springy Ferret
Member
Seen
19 days ago
Water water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink. There were ghouls working for their Prince, crossing left and right, out of air-ducts...well, maybe not the air-ducts. Coming up as if this were a boardroom meeting, Antares wore his hair in a tight bun, but kept the leather from earlier…even if it did smell like the sea. The white haired kindred smiled into his jacket collar like a child might, and listened with matching attentiveness…which was hard, since he wasn’t sure if he should remember some of those present. Those besides the Prince.
There were red ones,
and a blond one,
and two dark ones,
all so attractive,
that was a little disappointing,
and,
and…
Cranston always had these neat little clear and concise explanations of recent events. If Antares had to be the one to speak on the matter, it might have been daybreak before they got to the point. In any case, inquisition, LaChance, kidnapped…these buzzed through his head as if it were a hive, and each piece of information a busy bee.
When their Prince asked for a show of hands, two pale hands were out before he could finish thinking on it. Couldn’t help but chuckle, and hold his hands up, “I feel that my hands out when you ask now means that I must take part of this mission, not that I wouldn’t have, if they had not been held out at your bidding…though, I’m not certain that they wouldn’t have been out, if you hadn’t ask for them, though I don’t think the probability is as easy as a coin toss--”
Chuckle bubbling out of his throat again and stopping the start of that again, he tilted his head down, his wide smirk hidden by that jacket collar again as his eyes went over the others present, almost apologetic, “You have my service, my prince, let me not speak further on this than I need to.” Eyes focusing on the other Malkavian present after a moment, he gave her a curt nod, tearing his attentions to elsewhere, then back on Cranston.
There were red ones,
and a blond one,
and two dark ones,
all so attractive,
that was a little disappointing,
and,
and…
Cranston always had these neat little clear and concise explanations of recent events. If Antares had to be the one to speak on the matter, it might have been daybreak before they got to the point. In any case, inquisition, LaChance, kidnapped…these buzzed through his head as if it were a hive, and each piece of information a busy bee.
When their Prince asked for a show of hands, two pale hands were out before he could finish thinking on it. Couldn’t help but chuckle, and hold his hands up, “I feel that my hands out when you ask now means that I must take part of this mission, not that I wouldn’t have, if they had not been held out at your bidding…though, I’m not certain that they wouldn’t have been out, if you hadn’t ask for them, though I don’t think the probability is as easy as a coin toss--”
Chuckle bubbling out of his throat again and stopping the start of that again, he tilted his head down, his wide smirk hidden by that jacket collar again as his eyes went over the others present, almost apologetic, “You have my service, my prince, let me not speak further on this than I need to.” Eyes focusing on the other Malkavian present after a moment, he gave her a curt nod, tearing his attentions to elsewhere, then back on Cranston.
GM
Lord Coake The Man Who Sold the World
Member
Seen
8 yrs ago
Cranston was somewhat pleased to see a decent amount of volunteers. It was certainly more than he expected, knowing those he had called in. There was, however a necessary call for more information regarding the kidnapping. After those who had not volunteered had cleared out of the room, Cranston had his personal ghoul of choice, Alex, bring in a multitude of folders, regarding both every known detail of the kidnapping, and info and a floor-plan on where LaChance was being held. "As you can see, It appears the Inquisition learned about LaChance after a little slip-up during our 'victory trip' to Italy, after we won the election. They apparently witnessed him feeding upon an important politician, and have been tracking him ever since. I had no knowledge of said feeding, so there was hardly anything I could do about it. They captured him just last week, when he was headed home for the night. Now as for the location in which he is being held, it is a storage warehouse, recently purchased by the local Catholic Church branch. Now, there isn't much in the way of exterior security, but inside you can expect a lot of resistance from Inquisition members. You should be able to make it in through the door on the far side of the building, and make your way through the warehouse. Are there any other questions?"
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