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»  You're Out There with Winners, It's Good to Be King, Tag: Kindred SWP
Tabitha Halevi
 Posted: Apr 18 2014, 11:49 PM
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Prince of NYC
600+, Kindred

N/A


Tabitha looked across the VIP lounge with a quiet sense of satisfaction. Everywhere she looked there were Kindred, easily two dozen already present and more arriving by the moment. These were her people, in every sense of the word. Since claiming power only a short few weeks ago she had been reaching out to every corner of the city to ensure that her new position of Prince was both known and accepted by the general populace of the city. Many had accepted her position with little incident, just as she had expected. After all, most Kindred were content to be left alone and she had no intention of changing that, at least for now. Sure, there had been problems. The Lasombra Primogen had taken his toys and gone home, retreating to Queens and refusing to acknowlege her as Prince, but he had also refused to acknowledge any of her detractors or rivals. The formost of the latter being the Ventrue Primogen, who was lost to his own delusions of grandeur and sense of entitlement.

None of that mattered to her now. Tonight was for revelry and proving that the new paradigm was preferable to the complicated and ineffectual leadership of the Primogen Council for the last half century. This calling of Elysium served to remind the Kindred population of New York that with a Prince once more in power it was time for a return to form. She had arranged for everything. A well-known local band was doing its best to overcome the thumping din from the mortal rave downstairs in the club proper. The bar was well stocked with the finest liquors, and willing blood dolls imbibing them for her Kindred guests. The finest decor that money could buy hung from the walls surrounding finely upholstered chairs and mahogany tables. When combined with a guest list which included all the (loyal) movers and shakers of the city's Kindred, this Elysium would prove to be the highlight of Kindred society for months to come.

Tabitha smiled and made her way to the stage, flanked by two large and hairless bodyguards clearing the way through the crowd on the dance floor fo her. When she reached the stage, she made a short show of bobbing her head in time with the music before gesturing to the singer to end the song. Stepping forward and taking the microphone from him, she looked across the assembled Kindred with a broad smile. "Welcome ladies and gentleman to this, the first True Elysium that New York City has seen since 1964! This is a safe place, where you can relax and mingle with the finest that our society has to offer. Please, enjoy yourselves but remember that protocol and politeness are a must, and my companions here..." She indicated the large hairless men beside her and flanking each entrance. "...are here to ensure that no one oversteps themselves after one too many sips from the bar!" She smiled and laughed lightly at her own little joke. "If you have matters which require my Princely attention, feel free to approach me or one of your lovely Primogen hosts and you will have a response before tonight's festivities conclude. If not, then simply enjoy yourselves and remember that we are here for you!" She grinned at the cheers that went up and knew that, while the majority of the city was still uncertain if they truly needed a Prince, there were at least a few new converts amongst this crowd.

Then she handed the microphone back to the band leader with a faux enthusiastic thumbs-up and stepped down from the stage. She made her way to the raised dais at the back of the lounge, where a large couch had been adorned with the finest of pillows for her to manage any courtly matters and enjoy herself in the meantime. Seated upon her cushioned throne, she watched the party with a smile, a triumphant glimmer in her eyes...
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Ellis Donoghue
 Posted: Apr 19 2014, 01:26 AM
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Ventrue Bookie
106, Kindred

N/A


The first Elysium that New York had seen since 1964? Hosted by the self-proclaimed Prince of the city? Of course the Ventrue Primogen was going to be in attendance. And where the Primogen went, so followed any number of grunts, though Ellis hardly considered himself as such, evidence to the contrary notwithstanding. Henchmen rarely called themselves henchmen, after all.

But here he was, self-aware foot soldier or not. Bates had made his expectations for the night clear; mingle, but mingle with a purpose. That is, keep an ear out on what everyone else was saying, maybe fish for details, get a general consensus for how the peasants felt about the shift in power of the upper class. It was rare to get such a large, varied group of Kindred in one place, and if anyone thought the information-hungry Ventrue weren't going to take advantage of the situation, they were sorely mistaken. Knowledge and power were hardly strange bedfellows, after all.

The Prince gave a speech that was half a faux warm greeting and half a thinly veiled threat. Ellis eyed the tall hulking men standing near the entrance with a disinterested look. He had spent the better part of his human life surrounded by thugs that looked just like that, and he had long ago lost that innate feeling of fear the average person held for such imposing figures. Not to say he wasn't aware what those men could do to any vamp stupid enough to pull something at an event like this -- he had an old pair of concrete shoes that could attest to that.

The speech finished, the Prince took her leave, still in the picture but well on the fringes of the gala, and Ellis adjusted the frames settled against his nose, an old habit from his human days that hadn't died when he had. If he was going to play the subtle inquisitor, he might as well get started. It seemed the bar was the happening spot, and so that was where he went, waving away a lithe blonde blood doll that had wandered a bit too close, wrinkling his nose slightly at the offer before turning his back to the bar and leaning against it. There were a few Kindred within earshot, which was what he was there for, to listen, and so he did, keeping mum for the moment until someone or something caught his interest enough to get him talking.
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Lazarus Fenwick
 Posted: Apr 19 2014, 02:38 AM
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Tremere Eccentric
40, Kindred

N/A


Know your enemy.

That was the first thing that had come to mind when a summons had come to his attention, it had been resting on his desk when he had awakened a few nights before. Lazarus had been certain he had been keeping a low profile from the clan he had been avoiding since his untimely embrace. Though he wasn't certain that it was clan Tremere that had contacted him, in all honesty that was enough to make matters worse, he could almost swear that his skin devoid of any proper sensation was practically crawling. But he should have known better...these things had been the norm back in his living days, but he hated the being called forward like some sort of errant dog off leash.

Because he knew that if he hadn't come when he was called, there was that hint of threat that promised a type of draconian retaliation if he hadn't been anything but perfectly obedient. Even though he wasn't quite certain what. So he kept telling himself that he was here to know his enemy.

Who apparently put hedonism to all new levels. Lazarus ran his hands over his face and sighed, even though he didn't need to breathe any these days. Habit mostly, something he had grown accustomed to from decades of exasperation- he wasn't bound to change that any night soon, because honestly it seemed that people, dead or no, couldn't cease to be frustrating. The whole scene was almost horrific in a way, knowing there were vampires everywhere, creatures of unending entropy just playing at being living things all while sapping off the life of others...he hadn't quite gotten used to it entirely. Monsters playing at being human, though he guessed if he pointed that out they would have gotten awfully cross.

They even had their own structure set up, if their claimed Prince was any indication. Seemed a title held by whoever took it and could keep it, and it seemed that holding that title took a level of menace if that off the cuff statement about guards were any indication. How...quaint. He smirked and again a puff of air escaped his lips as he blew his bangs out of his face. The more things changed they stayed the same it seemed. This woman would have made a fine Hermetic if she ever had the chops to awaken in life, though he doubted it.

But Lazarus, try as he might couldn't stay a wall flower forever, instinct told him to move, he didn't want to get picked up right away, or if he had been he didn't want to get labeled and singled out too quickly, his sire's type were not to be trusted, more so then most of their ilk, and he knew that if he got lost in the crowd he'd be better off. So off he went, going over to where the bulk of the vampires were milling about, even though he hated to be so close to the humans they had conditioned into cattle- he made strange sort of body language as he inched closer to those in the midst of a feeding frenzy. Head held high, but arms wrapped protectively around him, somewhere between confidence and uncertainty, that was probably the most accurate summation of his mental state right now, and he hated it. Weakness was not something he wanted to show but he didn't exactly feel in control and he hated it.
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Marina Koslova
 Posted: Apr 20 2014, 04:12 PM
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INACTIVE
102, INACTIVE

N/A


Ostentatious Kindred events were never Marina's thing: At least humans could be easily decieved regarding her true nature. Thankfully the Elysium wasn't called by a Toreador, rather a Lasombra... She was still somewhat new in the City, and remained in dire need of a crucial element in her line of work: Connections. More specifically, powerful connections, potential clients with the resources to procure her services. Not like such services could be advertised openly, so her best bet was to give people a message: The Blade Dancer was in New York. The best kind of clients would know who she was by name alone. Every Elder worth his salt would be able to hire her if he so desired, and at least to those people, her reputation would precede her.

Marina the Blade Dancer... Occupation wise, she fancied herself a weapon, placed in the hands of her clients. Her art was for sale and she wasn't ashamed of it. This Russian mercenary had acquired a certain renown throughout the years; she could take pride in being a damn good weapon after all.

When she first arrived some time ago, New York wasn't anyone's domain: A Vampire anarchy... This allowed her to remain incognito without anyone bitching about it, but as things stood right now, respecting tradition and presenting herself was her best option. The last thing Marina wanted was to get pulled into a war before a promise for payment; people didn't call her "Unaligned" for no reason after all...

Ultimately, this little soiree allowed her to kill two birds with one stone: Get the politicians off her back and maybe find herself an employer. For a woman like her, it was much easier to respect ancient, widely known laws - rules that actually made sense to her generally pragmatic outlook - than the subtelty and sanctimoniousness of social conducts.

"She's charismatic enough, I'll give her that...", she thought, hearing Tabitha's speech with a faint smile across her face, drawing her own impression of the woman

After all, she'd just proclaimed herself Prince, and most chose to fall in line - Not an easy feat, considering the older the Immortal, the more stubburn he tends to be - while those who didn't seemed to fail at presenting an alternative.

All this pomp was expected of the occasion, so Marina prepared herself for a night of poseurs, hypocrites and politicians, and dressed appropriately for it... She was still a Toreador (her beauty and obvious vanity made that quite clear), so public appearances looking any less than the most beautiful she could manage was downright unacceptable. Marina could also maintain the image of class and politeness as needed, enough to at least intoduce herself and fool those not part of her own clan. She danced through the crowd of Kindred and blood dolls towards her host, and drew her attention:

"Delightful party...", she said in a manner of greeting, curteously paying her respects and introducing herself to the Prince, "I've come to present myself to the ruler of New York... My name is Marina Andreevna Koslova, Clan Toreador."

Nothing but her name and the way she spelled it hinted to her nationality. Foreigner or not, her English was as good as any native's. Still, Marina was pretty sure she'd be recognized by name alone... If not by the prince herself, one of the elders present would do the honors. For now, getting in her good graces could make things easier, so it took priority over other matters...

Outfit

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"Rest assured, I'll give a beautiful end to your pathetic existance." ~ Marina
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Elaine Evelyn Wentwick
 Posted: Apr 21 2014, 05:02 PM
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Malkavian
N/A, Kindred

N/A


Princes and queens and crowns were all rather beyond Elaine - but a very nicely scented letter had come in the prettiest little envelope ever, a pastel blue with a seal that made Elaine's skin dance when she ran her finger over it - almost erogenous, it drew her in like a snake following the sing-song of a flute. With all the inevitability of gravity bringing a meteor to smash the dinosaurs, the streets dragged Elaine into the party-fort, with the swirling maelstrom stilled for the evening. The air in here was firm, steady, a little cold; up the stairs, past the - oh Caine's shiny teeth I want them - mortals dancing and throbbing and fucking in the dark places, towards a quieter lair, as much a victim of her nature as the last meal she'd left broken in a pile somewhere in the maze out beyond these genteel walls - the Princess wanted something, and she would have it.

The blood called to her, and it called her to this room, to the soft sounds of music and the gentle ripples that waved through the air like the motions of a pigeon stroking his own feathers, fluffing his plumage and tarting himself up. Elaine herself had taken a rather more relaxed approach, entirely by accident; she had only just been sniffing around her latest den when the letter had arrived. The voices must have betrayed her at some point, because there was no other way other way that they could have seen her in that place, hear her walking and the hammer-hammer inside the...beneath that layer, the one that peeled away so easily - no, not inside, the place beyond where no sword could pierce.

The air was charged like a basket of protons, positive, almost alive; the optimism hung in the air like evaporated syrup, radiating from a powerful figure whose aura was almost ghostly, shades of blue, red, green, a great variety around her skin...Elaine had to have more of that smell. Such a heady air of power, it pulled her along, approaching with a flourishing bow and reaching into her dress to produce a playing card - the six of diamonds. In truth it was no specific card, but an idea that the third mouse had given up under the squeeze. "Elaine Wentwick, professional pursuer and player, absolutely delighted to meet you, and so are all the voices. Is there anyone you need me to play with? I like playing with skin best. No, muscle! Muscle tickles."

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Jack Rye
 Posted: Apr 24 2014, 05:02 PM
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Malkavian In The Rye
28, Kindred

N/A


When he was alive, Jack often found himself edging as far away from a crowd as he could, as if the press of bodies were kryptonite. Their gibbering and laughter just gave him a headache, and more than once he retreated to the quieter corners, where he would nurse a drink until it was time to leave. There was a particular party he got invited to when he first moved to the city where everyone was getting so fucked up they couldn't walk too feet without slamming into a wall. A lot of people might have appreciated being the only sober person who could recall all of this and bring it up later. Jack thought it was a nuisance.

Not that he wasn't ever into the drug scene, he just preferred to do that stuff on his own, away from other people. In any case, the current crowd at least had the decency of using the masquerade of civility for whatever-the-fuck this gathering was. Someone told him--maybe it had been his sire. He honestly couldn't really tell if it was sire or one of the many minds swimming about his poor little head these days.

They, like the crowd, never shut the fuck up.

He didn't mind staying over in his own little corner at this little party either, allowing himself to fade into obscurity where the goddamn fucking psychopaths wouldn't notice him. For the moment he seemed far more lucid than recent times had allowed him. No one seemed to be staring at him, and he was fine with that.

Jack's fingers drummed idly against his leg, only to suddenly cease as his body tensed. The sudden voice commanding the room's attention startled him out of his reverie and drew his gaze to the woman on stage. The little speech made his mouth curl downward in a mixture of disgust and subtle amusement. Self important fucking monSTEErrssss, with their damned titles and politics. A lot of it was still lost on him, but the gist he got. These were the sort of people you didn't fuck with unless you felt like getting nailed down by your hands and ankles on a tarmac in Jersey waiting for the next sunrise. It was all bullshit.

What a convenient means to die though! Don't even need to do it yourself! Just walk up to the bitch and spit on her fancy clothes. It was hard to tell if that was his own morbid thought or one of the gibbering voices in his mind. Sometimes the two were difficult to tell apart, and that was getting harder and harder to do the more time passed. Given another few months and his mind probably wouldn't be his own anymore. How fun.

His eyes trailed after the prince as she exited the stage, then peered over the crowd in a way the made it quite obvious how much he didn't want to really be here.
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Ayden Bates
 Posted: May 1 2014, 09:44 PM
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Ventrue Primogen & Rival to the Throne
401, Kindred

N/A


Ayden leaned back in his chair, content to never leave it so long as the Usurper remained in the room. He knew he wasn't exactly welcome here and he frankly didn't give a damn. This bitch had come into his city, dissolved the power of the Primogen Council like she had the right, melted the previous Brujah Primogen, and worst of all forced Ayden the the periphery in his own city. The only thing that saved her his direct wrath was that she had left him in power within his domain of Manhattan... for now.

As it were, he knew not attending Elysium despite the discomfort and thinly veiled insults was the equivalent of political suicide. So. Here he was. Wedge into the furthest corner of the Lounge from the bitch.

From his position on the periphery he watched as the peons mingled like any of it truly mattered. It was almost amusing, really. Most importantly, he watched as one of his pawns moved about the board beside the bar. Ayden momentarily debated if it would show too much of his hand to summon Ellis. No, it could wait. After all, it was unlikely that the younger kindred had learned anything of real import yet and to call him over now would only hinder that mission. It could wait.

As for the young Kook who lingered on the fringes with him, though... "Come over here, child. Quickly if you know what's good for you." He stared at Jack like the young man was an artist's masterwork, worthy of being judged thoroughly and either praised or scorned appropriately. "Yes. You. Here. Now." He blinked slowly, as if he was only barely remembering he should do so. "Tell me. What do you think of our presumptuous princess of puissance?"
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Emilie Lemieux
 Posted: May 1 2014, 10:02 PM
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Tremere Primogen
397, Kindred

N/A


Emilie lounged on an antique fainting couch to the right of the Prince's dais, just close enough to remind everyone of her position but far enough to be both respectful to the monarch of the city while also establishing a bit of professional distance from the woman. Politics was a tender game, where even being a few inches to one side or another could send all the wrong sorts of signals. Then again, it was a mentality that came naturally to the Tremere; doubly so for their powerful young Primogen. There were kindred twice her age with half her political clout and, truth be told, the difference came down to the tangible power that emanated off her in waves.

Having moments ago grown bored with the twinkish little lad who had provided her with a heady draught of vitae laced with the faintest hints of Chianti and cocaine, she pushed the lad away dismissively and called softly across the lounge. Despite the low volume, her voice carried as if she held a megaphone, at least for those she was addressing. "You. Girl. Come here." Elaine was following after the Prince, but Emilie wanted to talk to the girl first. "Yes you." Having called out to the girl, she could only wait as the girl approached, while she waited her eyes lingered on Lazarus and a broad cold grin spread across her face; a freshly turned Merlin, eh? She had heard of him. He was next... Her gaze beckoned him over in ways that her words never could. He would come to her in his own time, or he wouldn't; if he didn't, she'd find him and he'd find the situation far less pleasant.

When Elaine appeared before her, she stared deeply into the girl's eyes as she attempted to read her soul. "The Prince will have enough time for you in a moment, girl. First, I require you. Tell me true, and I'll know if you're lying. What do you see when you look at our Prince? There are few who can read the weave of souls as you, or so I've heard... Who is our new Prince, really?" She glanced at the Dais where the Prince and some young Toreador were conversing. "Do not worry, she may hear your words later if you wish, but for now..." The Tremere Primogen smiled coldly. "...for now your words will only carry to my own ears and those I wish to hear."
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Tabitha Halevi
 Posted: May 1 2014, 10:37 PM
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Prince of NYC
600+, Kindred

N/A


Tabitha sat on her cushioned throne with a smug smirk and looked out over her kingdom, or at least this small corner of it. It was good to be the king, or rather the Prince. She already saw the two young female Kindred making their way to her dais; clearly they each had some agenda, else they wouldn't dare be so bold. The first moved with the grace of a dancer and the speed of an assassin. The combination did not go unnoticed by the Prince, and the slightest twitch, almost imperceptible, belied the barely hidden tensing for potential combat. The truly perceptive would notice not only the fact that she was (wisely) alert for assassins, but also that she glanced to her nearby guards only as an after thought...

Either way, she was already preparing a deflection for the ladies, some means of getting one to wait; but her trusty Tremere pet seemed to sense the need and drew one of them away for the moment. Thus, she turned her full attention to Marina for the moment. "Welcome, Marina and I am so very glad that you are enjoying the festivities. After all, it is for you and yours that I do all this..." She smiled and bowed her head ever so slightly, like a monarch honoring a particularly polite peasant; a positive, but still demeaning gesture. "Toreador, you say? Interesting. I would have guessed you to be one of Haqim's, or maybe Set's, brood. Intriguing...."

She paused for a long moment, watching the girl's reaction. "So tell me Marina. How many Kindred have you killed...?" She stared straight into the girl's eyes, unblinking for long minutes. The corner of her mouth was still quirked in a predatory grin.
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Ellis Donoghue
 Posted: May 2 2014, 11:47 PM
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Ventrue Bookie
106, Kindred

N/A


It was a slow start-up for gossip over by the bar, but then again, Ellis had chosen to park himself in the one area where everyone's mouth seemed to be otherwise occupied. Oh well, all in good time. The night was just getting started after all, and if the cattle around him were as doped up as he assumed they were, the toxins coursing through their blood just might make loose lips for those attached to their necks.

In the meantime Ellis would just have to preoccupy himself, and people watching seemed to be the way to go. 'People' was perhaps too genial a word, everyone here was just a near-feral animal trying their damnedest to be civil and cordial, to keep their true nature hidden behind pearly white teeth that could turn into pointy fangs at the drop of a hat, and none were more guilty of the facade than the Primogens themselves. Masters of their craft, certainly; Ellis smirked as he watched Ayden bark orders to some no-name... what? Malk? Brujah? One of those twitchy types that Ellis tried his best to avoid lest they try and wax philosophical about some inane thing or another, anarchy on high perhaps, or, even worse, their own fragmented reality.

He'd rather walk out into the midday sun, thanks.

Ellis let his gaze flicker from his clan's own Primogen to another on the list. Lemieux, if he remembered correctly, and he was damn sure he did; it was his job to know these sorts of things, after all, and as it stood if someone where to quiz him then and there about the Who's Who of the underworld, he was certain he'd pass with flying colors. The Tremere Primogen seemed to have locked her eyes on some poor shmuck in attendance, and Ellis' own eyes followed her line of sight, settling on some white-blond someone or other a few feet away from himself.

Hmm. The man looked terribly uncomfortable, whoever he was, arms crossed around himself like a pale shield, which was about as telling as if he were to hold up a sign that read 'Newbie'. Which means that there was a chance he didn't know how to play the game, which meant he might be more willing to open his mouth without checking himself, and that was enough of an incentive to get Ellis to tag the man as his first potential shakedown of the evening.

He pushed himself away from the bar, stepping around the same blood doll who had approached him earlier, but this time she had the good sense not to offer him what he had no interest in. He came to a stop next to the awkward-looking fledgling, hands shoving into the pockets of his slacks as he nodded towards Emilie. "Unsettling, isn't it? I hear tell that after the first few hundred years you simply forget to blink," he said, some faint hint of a brogue dancing around his words, though that upbeat swing of his syllables was dampened by the dry tone of his voice.
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Lazarus Fenwick
 Posted: May 3 2014, 09:41 PM
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Tremere Eccentric
40, Kindred

N/A


The terrible thing about being on high alert over everything was that after awhile, you grew somewhat dull to what was really going on. In the belly of the beast, surrounded by enemies it soon became apparent to Lazarus that they were all just bland faces in the crowd. None of them were really of any important to him- he knew none of them, and he was concerned about their presence, but his senses just lost the punch he should have been feeling given the situation.

Which probably meant he wasn't long for this world. Though Lazarus didn't really rue or lament that point- because he was certain that for the most part, everyone was ignoring him as well. He didn't exactly cut an intriguing figure before all of these power players. That was, until some woman across the room started to give him eyes...not the flattering checking him out sort of look but more the same look a cat gave some other predator pissing on their turf. It infuriated him in a way just to get leered at like that, he almost for whatever reason felt inclined to go over there and give her a piece of his mind...and he might have been dense enough to act on that inexplicable feeling.

That was, until someone just broke into his line of sight breaking that focus with a nod towards the woman. Good god, what had come over him? He shivered forcing a smile towards the more sociable stranger as he started to slowly take a few side steps, trying to make it look like he was making room, when really just trying to put his back to the woman who had somehow gotten his hackles so needlessly raised. "That's anyone with enough disconnect from their humanity..." Time had little to do with it, nor did a lack of a pulse, there were mortals he knew that were just as cold and detached...but he wasn't here to argue, instead he smiled soft as his words giving the other man a quick once over.
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Elaine Evelyn Wentwick
 Posted: May 7 2014, 12:39 PM
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Malkavian
N/A, Kindred

N/A


It is said that being wanted is a balm for fatigue even greater than sleep, but being pulled in half by two vampires nearly twenty times her own age was putting considerable stress on the thin fibres holding Elaine together at the seams - at first she felt herself moving towards the tall voice, but another dragged her away from the Prince towards a fleshy mass that Daddy's ghost did not approve of at all. Fire. The word rang around Elaine's head like a pony in metal armour charging around the waiting room of a small lawyer's firm; her glow bore more than just colour. The sound of screams, tortured, agonised screams of men and women going to their Final Deaths through the burning blood of a witch brought a fatalistic grin to the young Kook's maw, and she approached with a skip in her step, as if completely unaware of the dangerous situation she was in.

After another over-exaggerated curtsey, Elaine stroked a fictional beard, searching her selves and all her others to track down which truth it was that the witch wanted - and whether or not it was the right one. True, there were many honesties in the universe and they all folded before Elaine like a roadmap to an as-yet unknown destination. Before she could bark out which turn to take, however, the knights had to ride forth and write a Domesday on the one in front of her fleshy form.

She smells of dirt. Old dirt. They have tasted her, the deep ones, and refused to finish the bottle. If we run she burns us. If we strike she burns us. Wait. Wait a little longer. Longer still. Wait for the centuries to roll past and wait as the Oldest swarm over the lands and the sea, wait even longer, and then we will know the things she does not have. For now? Feed her a little and she will grow fat. Fat, and lazy, and ripe for the slaughter. SLAUGHTER. Laughter. Laugh. Lean, leave, like, lick, lick, blood, blood, blood, feed kill destroy -BE QUIET! As the Beast began to rise in Elaine's heart, she slapped the side of her head twice, before clenching a fist and twitch-punching her right thigh six or seven times, which would have, once upon a time, produced bruises.

Not now though. "She is scared, milady. You all are, the only difference is one of degrees. None of you know what is coming - coming here to ride over the hills and into the valleys of your heart - but she..." Another pensive moment. "She is going to shape her fears and re-make her world. Time is on her side. Is the sun on yours?"
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Jack Rye
 Posted: May 9 2014, 10:40 PM
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Malkavian In The Rye
28, Kindred

N/A


Ah, he had been noticed. He didn't really like that.

Jack's limbs twitched and tensed, and he found himself pulled taut like overstretched piano wire. His fingers ceased their drumming as his gaze turned sharply to the man who addressed him. If he had any hope that he had been mistaken, that the man was after someone else, this was dispelled as the man beckoned him forward.

He was not in any mood to play this politicking game, certainly not in any mood for conversation--but looking at the strange man, that irritating voice in the back of his mind began to chatter incessantly, until it was louder than the crowd around him. Jack rubbed slightly at his ears as if this would rid himself of the noise. Dangerous men play dangerous games, tread lightly, tread lightly~

Wordlessly, the fledgling stepped closer to the man, gaze boring into him as if he would get a sense of who and what he was before even speaking to him. To be fair, it wasn't far from the truth, damned Malkavians and their damned insight. He did not sit, but seemed more content to stand and let himself stare.

If Jack was surprised by the question, there was only a subtle flicker of it in his features that disappeared as quickly as it showed. No, no, asking questions like this. Ventrue and their schemes--it had been explained to him rather briefly what the other clans were like. Already his minds went to work, trying to deduce the plot that this one much be hatching up and no doubt wished to involve him in.

He would not be used, he would not-t-t-t...

"And what sort of insight do you hope to gleam from me, Iscariot?" he asked flatly--far too casually. It was clear from his gaze and the way his posture would shift that this man unnerved him. Of what use would the opinions of mY MiiiNNNDS be to THis sssELF important SHIT.

The mind within him screamed in the back of his head to cease his prattle before he found himself punished for his rudeness. Jack ignored it; he had little care for this game and no desire to play it.
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Ayden Bates
 Posted: May 14 2014, 10:04 PM
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Ventrue Primogen & Rival to the Throne
401, Kindred

N/A


Ayden sat in his chair, surveying the room as he waited for Jack to come as called. Eyes unblinking, he seemed to be trying to take in every face and voice in the room. He couldn't help but smile as he watched his clanmate striking up conversations with random (or so it might seem...) Kindred in the crowd. Excellent, exactly as planned. If everything went as planned, it wouldn't matter in the slightest what the rank-and-file thought. However, nothing ever went as planned, so he had contingencies for his contingencies; as any good Elder does.

When Jack was finally standing before him, he turned his unblinking gaze down at the younger Kindred and meeting the Malkavian's stare with an unwithering glare of his own. Bold. Strangely so for one so young. Foolish, and possibly suicidal, but respectable. Ayden smiled broadly and mechanically, like a man dusting off social skills long used in an attempt to seem less obviously imposing. Well, imposing in a more human fashion than an ancient monster that had watched nations grow from infancy. "So? Can you speak, neonate? Or did your sire remove it before he Embraced you?" He smiled like a predator waiting for the trap to sping as Jack finally spoke.

"Ah, there's the tongue I asked to wag." He looked down his nose at Jack as he processed the response. Meeting a Primogen's question with a question of one's own? Yes, this one was bold. "What do I wish to learn from one such as you? It's really quite simple, childe." He smiled and leaned forward slightly to more directly look at his subject. "I have sat on the Primogen Council for decades, guding this city with my peers towards a delicate peace amongst our kind. Then, in one fell swoop, this woman appears and strips us of the privilages of rank while demanding oaths of fealty. A single moment which undid half a century of work." He sneered as he glanced at the Prince on her dais. "No ruler can hold their place without the consent of those they govern. What I wish to learn from you, childe, is merely one piece of this puzzle I wish to construct. I wish to know what those outside her toadies and those of us reserving judgement think of her."

His gaze bored into Jack's with a cold intensity. "So. Tell me. What do you think of her?" He paused, then his smile faded to an unemotionless mask. "And tell me true. I have ways of learning when people lie to me. I would rather you tell me an uncomfortable truth than a pleasant lie..."
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Emilie Lemieux
 Posted: May 14 2014, 10:08 PM
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Tremere Primogen
397, Kindred

N/A


Emilie couldn't restrain a grin of amusement as she watched the young woman hesitate, clearly the girl was trying to decide where she should go. To attend the Prince as originally intended, or to the woman directly summoning her. After a moment, the Tremere Primogen decided to make the decision simpler for the young woman. "Yes, yes. Come here. There will be plenty of time for the Prince later. She is busy enough for now. Think of me as her secretary, trying to lighten her load a smidge. Come." She waved a hand beckoning Elaine to come closer.

Emilie smiled in delight at Elaine's curtsy and chin stroking. "Now, now. No need for such formalities, childe. Save that for formal functions, this is a party!" She laughed, a hint of her slight intoxication leaking into her voice as she did so. "Welcome. Relax. Have a seat." She gestured to one of the large men standing to the side of the dais. After a moment, the man grunted and stepped away, returning a second later with a plush chair. "Sit. Please, sit. Thank you George, you will not be needed further."

Emilie regarded Elaine for a moment after the girl was seated. "So, tell me what you think." She nodded slightly as she listened to the neonate's observations of the Prince. "Scared, you say? Interesting..." She nodded knowingly, gesturing for the girl to elaborate. "What makes you say that?" Then she paused, cocking her head to one side in thought. "And what is coming? Are you gifted with the sight, childe? What have you seen?" Then she laughed. "And as for the sun... Well, the sun rises on all things, sooner or later, doesn't it? The question is what we do when we see those rosy fingers of dawn reaching towards us..." She leaned forward, honestly intrigued. "Please, tell me more..."
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