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[b]North San Vincente Blvd | West Hollywood[/b] 

[i]The city took on a seemingly different atmosphere this time around. The once vivid colors of endless street-lined billboards and advertisements, storefront neon, and urban-themed murals that covered various buildings all but lost their fervor, coming off rather muted through the eyes of one born into darkness. It wasn’t right though. In fact, everything seemed out of order, and the natural progression of things was in more chaos than the woman remembered. Besides, why would she even be thinking of such trivial matters? Los Angeles had been a place of wonder and beauty, hope and loss, industry and destruction, but from one who walks the jagged line of both the living and the dead, it’s aesthetic becomes a dream in which you never truly awaken. Nicole Stathos found herself standing in the middle of it all and feeling everything at once.[/i]

“Hey l-lady, spare some change f-for a Vet?”

The shoeless, frail, bearded man dressed in torn jeans, an Army-green jacket, and stunk of urine and cheap wine watched the woman with curious eyes as she simply stood in the alley peering out across the street toward the West Hollywood substation of the Los Angeles Police Department. Not much had changed in her physical appearance, save for a paler skin tone and hair that had been shaved off grew at an extremely slow pace, if it really grew back at all. The three scars along the side of her face still shown however; a constant reminder of the attackers the night of her embrace.

The woman honestly couldn’t remember just [i]how[/i] she had made it back to the city after being alone in the wilderness for almost a week. A “test”, if anything else, to prove to herself and her clanmates -wherever the fuck they were- if she was even cut out to be part of the tribe known as the Gangrel. From what she had learned of the clan, they were outsiders among Kindred society, specifically the Sect known as the Camarilla. “Too much politics, not enough action” was the typical response, and yet Nicole wondered what that meant for her future living in a city supposedly run by vampires. Would those outside of her clan accept her, or moreso, would those loyal to the Gangrel accept her. These and many questions still rattled around in her head, questions that Eva couldn’t possibly answer, and that would only be discovered by existing long enough to uncover the answers herself.

“Change.” Nicole muttered, allowing the word to drift, and turned her attention to the other, who hesitated in even making eye contact with her through scratched eyeglass lenses. There was a shadow of something unsettling growing in the back of the vagrant’s mind. Something just not right with the woman standing only a few feet from him. Why was she there? Who was she? The man had questions, but did any of them really matter?

“Um yeah, I have change.”  She said, reaching a pale hand into the front pocket of black jeans that hugged her hips and thighs like a glove, and pulled out a wad of folded bills, mostly tens and twenties, which caused the eyes of the vagrant to widen. She slid a few from the stack and held them out. “Here. Take it.” Nicole smiled, albeit a rather empty one. She didn’t quite care about the money so much though, considering it originally came from the evidence locker prior to the undercover operation she had been on the night of her embrace. It was bribery money for sure, mostly to gain the intel needed. But the whole op was a sham she concluded in her mind. It had all been a wicked setup to lure her -the prey- into the waiting arms of her Sire. A creature who had gone missing, or perhaps was killed, before she even had a chance to learn anything.

Still, a few weeks after the ordeal and a “debrief” by Eva, Nicole was puzzled by the entire existence of vampires. Her upbringing wasn’t necessarily religious in a way that profoundly impacted her, but at the same time, how could one’s mind be open to the possibilities of the supernatural actually existing? The belief that any of this was real still haunted her, and yet if this had been a dream...wouldn't she have awoken already?

“Are you waiting for s-someone?” The vagrant’s inquisitive tone pulled the woman from her brief reverie as she continued to keep focus on the brick police station across the street.

Had she been waiting for someone specific? What caused her first stop since returning to Los Angeles to be the substation she previously worked out of while on undercover assignments? She thought for a moment, even allowing a bit of a chuckle to escape her lips, because her only reason for being there was entirely…[i]human.[/i]

“No. Just missed this place.” Nicole finally said, immediately shrugging it off. “Anyway, take care of yourself, buddy.” She gave the man a pat on the back and headed toward Sunset Strip to walk and think...


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The newly minted Gangrel’s main reason for returning to Los Angeles, was of course, to find her Sire, someone of which seemed more like a fairytale than an actual person. While Eva had to release the woman from her charge, she wasn’t going to allow her to wander the Kindred underworld without a plan. Without resources. Without allies in high and low places. The Toreador wore many faces, yet Nicole wondered which one had been for her specifically. She knew the Elder cared, but to what end? Was it pity taken on a neonate who was otherwise lost in a world she didn’t understand? Perhaps the “Masquerade” was a large part of it, as Eva went through much of the history of the Kindred, including the laws that all must abide by. The Gangrel fledgling knew she would be watched, not only by those appointed per Eva’s wishes, but also much of the city, as news traveled fast within the city that never sleeps, and the last thing the Camarilla wanted was a breach of their world. 

As long as Nicole kept herself in check, things would presumably go much better in the long run.

If any name was to stick out in her head, it would be Rachel Fields, one of Eva’s closest advisors within her circle of kindred, and apparently someone who could help get the Gangrel woman established somewhere safe, and at least stay out of any unnecessary spotlights for the time being. The meeting place was a club of renown called “The Sunset”, which -according to Eva- would be a good place to start for seeking answers to more sensitive inquiries best kept out of Kine earshot. And as she eventually made it to her destination, not realizing that the place was fashioned into a sort of hotel, and the woman was awestruck by the beautifully crafted classic-meets-modern exterior architecture.

[i]Was this a vampire aesthetic?[/i] She mused, and couldn’t help but notice a few well-dressed couples loitering near the hotel lobby entrance, and gazing in her direction. A few with looks of disdain, as though this “newcomer” was in the wrong part of town, but Nicole ignored the stares and whispers while doing her best to casually walk through the ornately decorated glass double doors and into the lobby, where awaiting elevators would take her to the lounge at the top of the building.

Seeing the inside, she realized that the exterior was only an extension of the beauty and classic feel the interior held throughout the entire hotel. It had a warm comfort, yet cold eyes could be felt while she looked around, noticing a fair amount of patrons, most of which were probably frequent visitors. Although thankfully not everyone was “dressed to the nines”, as there were a few noticeably decked out in street clothes, or casual outfits.

Entering into the lounge, Nicole stepped up to the bar and noticed a tall, muscular man speaking to a couple further near the end, and wondered if that was the one Eva had referred to as “Henry Locke”, who was apparently The Sunset’s long-time proprietor. The physical traits seemed to fit the description given, so the woman slipped onto a bar stool and waited, hoping to be able to speak with him and find out where she could find Rachel, because she honestly had no other recourse at that moment.