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Author Topic: Family Business  (Read 12533 times)

Offline [archive] Killer39787726

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #135 on: May 29, 2006, 11:44:00 AM »
                If she paid me enough, she might get my undivided attention.
 
 I look around, trying to look casual.
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Her name is Marie, one of you torriesâ€? I turned to Caliori, for a couple of seconds. I don’t exactly fix my gaze on her eyes, instead I let my eyes wander around her figure. It might make me look like the horny leech that was just talking to her. Then I turned to the girl. The trick was to avoid eye contact, not letting she know I was doing that.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“I just found her earlier tonight. She seemed lost, and I thought it would be best to deliver her to you. I told her the rules, but I don’t have vocation to play babysitterâ€?
 It felt better to stick closer to the truth, hoping it would diminish the chance of getting caught in a lie. To avoid tripping on my own tongue.
 
 If it's not found out, a lie becomes the truth.
                       

 

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Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #136 on: May 29, 2006, 04:13:00 PM »
                "Oh?" Caliori gave him a puzzled, though amused look "And I was the first person that came to your mind, I see. You believe me to be too much of a philanthropist, Jake. Am I to expect you start hauling random fledglings off the streets and into my domain?" well... ok, it did sound a bit ludicrous when she put it like that, Jake thought and sent a few unvoiced obscenities in the general direction of the ugly bastard that put him up to this. He opened his mouth to respond, but Caliori bet him to it
 
 "Ah, do hush. This Kindred can speak for her herself, yes?" she stopped him, facing Marie now. Leaning slightly forward she picked up in a mockingly conspirational tone "Mr. Kraven seems to be full of surprises. And here I was thinking I've already figured him out. Brujah." she concluded, rolling her eyes at the word, as if it explained everything.
 
 Marie suddenly felt a few inches shorter. First this whole gethering of predators, walking around casually as if it was the most mundane thing in the world. Then Neil's friend, or whoever he was, spreading an almost tangible cold aura around him, making her wonder briefly whether there was a single "human" thing left about him. Now this woman, holding her gaze, who was just, absolutely...
 
 So, there seemed to be much for her to learn in this new... "life".
 
 "Well then, 'Marie', was it?" the 'Primogen' broke her out of her reverie "Bonsoir, et bienvenue à Cawford. What brings you to our..." she smirked "fair city?"                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Skinweaver

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #137 on: May 31, 2006, 05:41:00 PM »
                Rebecka cringed at the sight of the Nosferatu and his hideous claws. The grin didn't make things better.
 It was hard to tell if he had acturally made an effort to cover up the typical Nosferatu musk with cheap cologne or if he really smelled that way naturally. Though she had to admit that she had expected something much worse in terms of appearance. Now that she thought about it, the discomfort of being in the same room as this creature was overshadowed by the amusing fact that this vermin among vermin acturally lived with the city's rats.
 
 Scoping the room further with her one functional eye she gave the man who's name was supposedly "Bitterman" a quick glance.
 Unlike the other presence at the table, this one's Clan heritage was more difficult to pinpoint.
 Like most other Kindred he hid his nature well and fit the stereotype of the hidden predator. His clothing only further enforced the image into something just as obvious as spotting Dracula in a movie. Just look for the guy with the trashy accent.
 In addition to this, there was something in his eyes. Something unsettling.
 There wasn't much reason in focusing on such things at the moment.
 She would find out about the others eventually and there were more important games to play than "guess the clan".
 
 A moment after she turned to her host for yet another game.
 The age old, oh so popular game of being social.
 The whole building was a playground tonight.
 
 "And on behalf of House Tremere, it's a pleasure to meet you too."
 
 Rebecka forced a smile. The words left a bitter taste.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Bloodreaper33413943

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #138 on: June 02, 2006, 03:03:00 AM »
                "Merci pour votre salutation de genre," Marie replied.  "I was... sired in Baltimore and made my way here by chance."  She hoped that this would satisfy any curiosity Ms. Caliori had on the subject.  Although she would do so if required, she did not wish to have to relive that night right now.  She felt a strong desire to make a good impression with Caliori.  Not for Neil's sake, but for her own.  Only several seconds after meeting this woman, Marie found herself in total awe.  Caliori was everything she wanted to be and more, confident, commanding, seductive and... strong.  Not visibly of course, but her speech and stance spoke volumes of an iron will that would not be denied.  Marie knew in that moment, she would do anything and everything in her power to earn this woman... no, creature's favor.
 
 "As a member of your clan, I wish to submit myself to your superior judgment and experience, lady Caliori."                        

 

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Offline [archive] Grendel8101

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #139 on: June 04, 2006, 12:12:00 AM »
                So they were sending a Nos, a Tremere and a Malk?  This was like a bad bar joke.  
 
   The Nosferatu looked like your typical Nos, but chances were he was pretty sharp.  The Nosferatu rarely do anything half-assed.  Pro's, through and through.  As long as you didn't try and fuck them over and didn't have anything they wanted, they were good for business.
 
   The Tremere were pro's at...whatever the hell the Tremere did, but they were also solitary, reclusive and just plain creepy.  The chick looked like she'd had a rough life before getting vamped.  One of her eyes was fucked up.
 
   I remember something about the blood-o-gram Pina's little prick showed me, where everyone else on the mission would have their own agenda and I'd have to make sure they all stayed in line.  Great.  Babysitting never works well with other vamps.  This would all end in tears.
 
   A mosquito lands on my folded hands.  I stare at it.  I resist the urge to slap it and slowly rub my hands to scare it off, hoping no one notices.  It keeps flying away, then returning.  It lands in my palm.
 
   I slap my hands together.  Everyone's eyes flick to me.
 
   "Shall we get down to business?"  I say, smiling.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #140 on: June 04, 2006, 12:55:00 PM »
                "Baltimore." Caliori said thoughtfully "I see."
 
 Jake had heard a bit about the shit that went down in Baltimore, but not much, seeing as there were few survivors left to tell the tale. Then again, there had been a full out war out there until mere weeks ago. Hell, in some places it was still going on. So stories of impromptu Embraces were so common it was almost mundane. Sire-less fledglings that had been left to fend for their own were a dime a dozen in every "surviving" Camarilla city; probably in others too. Tough luck to start a new existence right now, but life was hard like that.
 
 "But let us not speak of unpleasant matters tonight. This is supposed to be a celebration, after all." the Primogen continued, taking Marie's hand and hooking her arm under hers. As she led the younger Toreador alongside her, she turned to Jake "Walk with us for a moment."
 
 She led them through the maze of pillar, panel, Kindred and servant, stopping one of the latter on the way to pick up fresh bloodwine glasses. A few guests greeted them (well, her mostly) in passing respectfully, and Jake fought down a sly smirk that had threatened to appear on his face despite himself as they passed a few familiar faces. He wasn't much for pretense of station or rank, but a few bowed pompous heads did stroke his ego just a little bit. Meanwhile, Caliori was saying something about the dragon statues on display...
 
 "...supposedly keepers of great knowledge, which they guarded fiercely. Some claimed them to be noble creatures, 'benevolent', if you wish. Guarding wanderers and sages, holding less kind creatures at bay – that route. Other sources, meanwhile, said them to be egotistical, vain and jealous, engaging in petty squabbles, wars and paranoia. Base, treacherous creatures claiming to a pretense of honor and sophistication." smiling at Marie she concluded "Sound like anyone you know? There is a lesson here. An obvious one, perhaps, but one many seem to forget."
 
 Caliori kept the conversation up largely by herself, with Marie only giving a few "Yes ma'am, no ma'am" answers, until they reached a large open patio in the west wing. The area wasn't closed to guests, but for the moment they were alone; it was very slowly beginning to snow again. The Primogen let Marie's arm go and walked up to the balustrade. After a moment of taking in the surroundings, she took a sip from the glass and turned around to face the other Kindred
 
 "So, Mr. Kraven, have you given thought to my proposition?"
 
 "Lady, I don't even know what your proposition is." he replied flatly "You haven't given me any details."
 
 "And I'm not going to." she grinned "If you're unsure of your abilities, then frankly, pardon but I have no use of them. We will settle my debt and speak of this no more. The city is full of Kindred looking for assignments, Jake, I don't need simple manpower. I need Kindred who can handle themselves. Take Marie here," she extended her hand towards the Toreador "She has had a difficult start in this, but unlike others in that situation, she managed to survive. That's some determination, at least, even if she still has plenty of room to... 'refine her graces', let's say. You, on the other hand, are your own Kindred and know what you can or cannot do at this point. So it's a 'yes' or 'no' situation." she finished, shrugging somewhat apologetically. Jake frowned at the lecture a bit, though at least she was being frank, for whatever that was worth.
 
 "What kind of money are we talking about here?" he heard himself say. The question had been on his mind, so he wasn't much surprised with himself. Caliori shook her head a bit patronizingly, but then named a sum. Well. It wasn't what he expected. But before he could tell her so, she added
 
 "Monthly, half of which up front." well, this was much, much better "If you prove to be worth it, of course. But you will have to make your decision with the information you have gathered so far. You have been gathering it, haven't you?" she smiled, apparently to herself this time "I'll offer this though: as unlikely as it may seem, it's possible that working for me you'll be performing a large service for Clan Brujah as a whole. But you'll be forced to take my word for it, as the 'details' are not to be handed out freely."
 
 Jake made a sour face. Well, shit, if this doesn't explain everything. She enjoyed this cloak & dagger mysterious thing a lot, it seemed. Then her tone changed to neutral, as if the charade was tiring her too after all "Failing that, you take your payment for last night, and I bid you farewell. Your choice. There is a party for me to oversee, and I believe we're already beginning to bore Ms..." she turned to Marie
 
 "Bedeau..." Marie supplied
 
 "...Ms. Bedeau to death here." Caliori finished cheerily
 
 The mansion, inside a ventilation shaft
 
 Snake Eyes watched Nail disappear with the Ventrue and nodded to himself with satisfaction, very few Kindred had noticed Nail's presence in general and that's how Clan Nosferatu preferred it. The less the others saw of them, the more they would suspect, and paranoia was the Sewer Rat's friend. Let them think they are everywhere, watching. Actually, this wasn't far from the truth, Snake had been observing the 'festivities' for a while now. The beauty of it was that the shafts were such an obvious hiding spot that no one would actually think he'd choose them.
 
 Navigating the installation from outside was beyond the abilities of most Kindred anyway. Then again, most Kindred didn't have Snake's elastic joints, allowing them to crawl through near-180-degree turns in the shafts. Neither would most Kindred be shielded by Priest's rites, making them invisible to the mansion's enchantments laid by the Warlocks. This shielding was limited and wouldn't hold in a direct confrontation... but direct confrontations were not what Snake was here for. The telescopic zoom of his Canon S1 camera provided all the contact he needed with the Licks down in the ballroom. The outer filter Don had provided made the glass panels in the mansion translucent, or at least see-through enough to take photos. They didn't actually know if this technique was known to someone else. The Nosferatu hadn't been responsible for altering the delivered panels, so the major question was "who had been?". It was a good idea, and that it's source was unknown was unnerving, especially at this time. This would need to be looked into, and was one of two reasons for Snake's presence tonight. The other was obvious.
 
 "Say 'cheese', asshole." he muttered almost inaudibly under his breath as he adjusted the zoom on the next unknowing model
 
 Upstairs
 
 "Indeed, let's." the Ventrue said, taking place in her seat "The matter bringing us here tonight is tied to the recent Sabbat assault, both here in Cawford, and along the entire East Coast..." a brief history lesson followed, though she kept it focused "...As you all know, during those months many of our, that is Camarilla, cities were under siege, and quite a few of them fell to... other hands. However, we and the Sabbat are not the only ones who had taken losses. The Giovanni have tried to play both fronts, and eventually, exhausted the Sabbat's patience as we've witnessed during their confrontation in Munroe, but they have endured, this is common knowledge. What isn't is that due to the shifting influences, the Giovanni have lost much of their connections to their branch in Pittsburgh, effectively crippling their entire local infrastructure. And this leads us..." she let the pause stretch
 
 "To the point where the Camarilla becomes useful to them again?" Nail ventured an educated guess
 
 "That is where." Patillo picked up "And so, they've stepped forward with a proposition, details of which we'll have time to go over later, the important thing right now is that in exchange for the access to our resources, they are willing to side with the Camarilla against the Sabbat. Fact is, unfortunately, that the Camarilla is in no position to turn down alliances right now. The 'victory' we've achieved globally is a matter of perspective, as much as anything else, and should a Sabbat counteroffensive... unlikely as it may be, true, take place – Cawford will be both in its path and without outside help." this was what had been talked about in hushed tones during the last weeks – the city had endured, only to find itself in the proximity of not one but two new Sabbat strongholds. The closest Camarilla bastion of was NY, and to call that city a mess would be an understatement. The thing making the situation, pardon the expression, sunnier at the moment was that the Sabbat was in an even worse condition. If the sources were right, the alliances had crumbled and in the wake of the deaths of the leaders, war raged in its ranks.
 
 If the sources were right.
 
 "However, in the spirit of 'Too little, too late', we will be the ones dictating the terms of any such alliances. They are far more pressed than we are." the Ventrue continued "At this point, we have little reason to doubt the Giovanni sincerity. Naturally, we have even less reason to trust it, past dealings with them being what they were. This is why we are all gathered here, and why this matter requires more than a ghoul with a laptop." looking at Bitterman first, she continued, turning her gaze to Rebecka and finally to Nail "With the Giovanni there is always more than meets the eye, literally, hence the need of us being able to see beyond the obvious. They are also magicians after a fashion as much as they are entrepreneurs, dealing in both blood magic and knowledge, and perhaps most of all, subterfuge." she didn't explain her own role in the matter, for it needed no explanation.
 
 "And why us, exactly? It seems as if any other Kindred would do." was the main question
 
 "This, as far as I know, was a choice of our respective... peers." Sorana replied "They would know whom to entrust this to, I assume."
 
 "Now, our flight will be leaving at 2:00 AM, which gives us," she looked at her watch "Well. Over an hour before we will need to leave for the airport. Transportation is provided for, though, if you so choose, you can use your own of course. Until that time, I'm afraid I have a small matter to attend to and am forced to leave you. This part of the mansion is otherwise closed to guests, having been 'reserved' for our privacy, feel free to peruse it. The Primogen's upper gallery is a sight to behold, so I've been told. Ms. Caliori's staff will be positively delighted to show you around..." she said with a somewhat ironic conspiratorial smile and promptly excused herself, getting up to leave.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Moonshadow70421598

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #141 on: June 04, 2006, 06:44:00 PM »
                As Jackson cruised the dark streets of Redbrock in his beat up  67 convertible Ford Galaxy looking for just the right hooker he was reminded of his days back in L.A. He had really grown to despise that place. This was what he knew however and the hunger for blood was stronger than his desire to avoid the ghetto’s.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s right vato, keep on drivingâ€?  he heard as he drove past a yard full of Mexicans working on a low rider “oh no, you didn’t just call me vatoâ€? he thought to himself as he pulled the car over to the curb, slipping the column shifter into first, shutting the engine off  and applying the parking brake. As he climbed out of the car he could see one of the other cholo’s giving the lippy one a shove “what the fucks the matter youâ€?  , they where putting their forties down and bowing up like a bunch of tough guys. Jackson walked to the rear of the car and leaned against the trunk, lighting up a smoke. “you best be gettin back in your ride homieâ€? one of the gang bangers spouted as he pointed what looked to be a forty five at him. Jackson just kept on smoking his cigarette, the one with the forty five started down the sidewalk towards him“ are you lookin to die babosoâ€?  the other three were not quite as quick to make their way down the sidewalk but they were still on their way. As the bald Mexican reached Jackson, pointing the gun directly in his face Jackson finally spoke “you call me stupid again and I’m gonna shove that forty five so far up your ass you’ll be shittin bullets for a weekâ€?  his “aweâ€?  worked like a charm, the Mexican lowered the weapon and began to back away as though he had seen the devil himself. Entranced by the vampire they were more than willing to abide by his suggestion “lets go take a look at that ride your workin onâ€? Jackson flicked what was left of his cigarette into the street.
 
 While examining the primered Monte Carlo he could hear rap music coming from inside the house, “anybody else in theirâ€? he nodded towards the house. “Just a couple a ho’s essayâ€? Jackson moved towards the porch“ don’t be callin me essayâ€? “sure thing man, you gotta name es…what you want us callin youâ€? Jackson didn’t answer. He watched the two girls from the window briefly before entering the house, they where easily entranced. “how you girls doin this eveningâ€? he sat between them on the couch and put an arm around each, they where speechless. “why don’t you guys go back to workâ€? he gave the Mexican that had followed him into the house the evil eye. He turned the stereo up to drowned out the dogs barking in the back yard â€?you, your comin with meâ€? he pointed at the skinny one, and led her back through the house till he found a bedroom, her fear of angering Jackson made her easy to work with. He directed her onto the bed and began necking with her, and smelling her like a man smells a woman, but it was the scent of her blood he was after. He sunk his fangs into her neck and retracted them as he began to feed, the girl moaned in ecstasy, he could feel her heart rate dropping and he stopped just shy of rendering her unconscious. He could tell she had been expecting to be taken advantage of and now she seemed more than willing to let it happen as she began to undress herself for him. You could almost see the rejection destroying her as he left the room and headed back into the living room where the fat one was waiting, she looked at him sheepishly as though it was her turn “lose some weight bitchâ€? and with that he headed back out into the front yard.
 
 You could see the angst in the four cholo’s as he walked past them, not sure whether to buddy up to him or run for their lives. He stopped and grabbed the lippy one with the small man syndrome by the jacket â€?do you know who I amâ€? he growled “noâ€? “that’s right, you don’t, so the next time you feel the need to act tough do it with one of your homeboys hereâ€? he shoved him away, he wanted to beat this kid down but he knew it would only bring him trouble. As he made his way back to his car he couldn’t help but snicker at the use of his powers over these poor mortals, he knew they’d be hating him once his affect wore off  but that only made it that much sweeter.                        

 

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Offline [archive] Killer39787726

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #142 on: June 06, 2006, 12:21:00 AM »
                She was a torrie alright. Already massaging Caliori’s ego like a pro.
 
 What do a deformed bastard, a one-eyed witch and a malk have in common? I didn’t had the answer for that. Neither did I care to, but I just happen to catch a glimpse of them all dissapearing into the same direction.
 
 One thing you learn as a cop is to always be alert to your surroundings, just so you could catch that maniac playing hide-and-kill behind your back. I learned it all a bit too late.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Â¦
 
 Colder than a walk-in fridge...Cold as a gun.
 
 She talks like she had me all figured out. Maybe she had, maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was just throwing away educated guesses, feeding me a line, hoping I take it.
 
 My mind falls inexorably back to the night of my embrace. Back there I thought I was delusional, mad. No matter what I said or did, I was going to die, right?
 
 Wrong.
 
 Closing my eyes forces me to look at the darkness inside.
 
 This time I knew that I was never going to wake up, that the nightmare was very real. An ex-cop, a cold-blooded killer, chain smoker and alcoholic leech. There was no glory in this. The good and the just, they were like gold dust in this city. I had no illusions. I was not one of them. I was no hero. My options had decreased to a singular course.
 
 I already paid for my revenge tenfold, and I was always back where it started. I was already going to hell, this would be just be another devil’s contract.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Lady, you just keep the cash flowingâ€?
 
 It sounded better than my previous retirement plan. Put a bullet through my brain in the end of the road. If there wasn’t anyone left to do it.
 
 Turn around, walk away, blow town. That would have been the smart thing to do. I guess I wasn't that smart. Truth was I didn't think I deserved to walk away. There were no happy endings.
                       

 

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Offline [archive] Sodom40280831

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #143 on: June 06, 2006, 10:37:00 AM »
                After Sorana left, Nail got out of his chair and motioned one of the servants to come closer.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Can I help you, sir?â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah, I haven’t had a drink all night, so be a sport and go fetch the “wine-cartâ€?.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Right away, sirâ€?
 
 The servant left the room only to return a few minutes later with a cart bearing a few wine-bottles. He stopped the cart in front of the table, left it there for all to use, filled one of the glasses with thick, red liquid from one of the bottles and approached Nail with it.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“There you go, sir.â€?
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well thank you, Jeevesâ€? Nail said as he took the glass and brought it to his mouth. Looking around, he noticed a few paintings on the walls. With the wine-glass in hand, he started casually strolling by each of the paintings, loudly voicing his opinion on each of them.
 
 A beautiful sunset.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hate it.â€?
 
 Two barely clothed lovers, kissing passionately.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hate it.â€?
 
 A bunch of naked people, burning in the flames of what was probably supposed to look like hell.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“This one…I kind of like.â€? Nail said as he moved on to the next painting which depicted a rather demonic looking creature, standing over the body of a bleeding woman. Nail paused for a moment.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Now I may not know art!â€?
 
 He took a sip from his glass
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“But I know what rings a few bells, heheh…â€?
 
 He turned to Bitterman and the Tremere.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Wouldn’t you say?â€?  
                       

 

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Offline [archive] Skinweaver

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #144 on: June 19, 2006, 03:50:00 PM »
                The sewer rat acturally wanted an opinion.
 Jokingly, of course but the absurd comedy of this creature's attitude toward his own all to obvious nature made it all the more tempting to give an answer.
 Art. Self promotion chanelled through imagined creativity onto a canvas. Leave it to the degenerates of this world to fawn over such things. To just imagine a Toreador in the same room brought an echo of Rebecka's latest encounter with one of them into her memory. A pretentious worm only interested in the inanimate objects around him, completely oblivious to the living, breathing, bleeding world around him. Just thinking about it made her feel sick.
 
 "Whatever the artist's intentions were, they clearly knew what they wanted to make. I can't say I approve with the depiction of the supposed antagonist, though... too stereotypical."
 
 There. Another attempt at acting social.
 It had to be done, considering the events that would undoubtedly follow.
 She gave the so called winecart a quick glance before turning away in disgust.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] Year_of_the_Scarab

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #145 on: August 21, 2006, 05:22:00 PM »
                On the balcony
 
 "Lady, you just keep the cash flowing" Marie's new 'friend' was saying. He and, ah, Primogen Caliori here, were apparently discussing some business, but the conversation itself made little to no sense at all to the young Toreador. A sign of things to come, as they said, she supposed. And anyway, she didn't feel even a bit curious about the exchange between the other two. None at all. Strange, that. She shrugged.
 
 "There's a fairly simple job for you to do tonight, though it does have a certain degree of immediacy, as it has to be concluded within the next few hours. Or in other words – before the Elysium ends. Judging on your results, we'll see just how well I'm spending my money." Caliori said in a businesslike manner
 
 "Hmph. Fair enough." Jake replied shortly, this was beginning to be more up his alley. Parties and Primogen aside, this would be just another job, only the pay would be better
 
 "Some information needs verifying. But neither I nor any of my more prominent employees can be connected to anything, so discretion is necessary. This is where you come in, obviously." she said, and some things became a bit clearer "I need you to go somewhere, have a look around, maybe ask a few questions, then bring me conclusions. Nothing too complicated." Jake was already thinking in working terms, but one thing still nagged at his thoughts
 
 "This sounds more like a nossie job." he voiced it "They're the ones with the answers... or so people say. Why do you need me, here?"
 
 "Perhaps I like you more. Perhaps I dislike them. Or I just enjoy being a nonconformist. Who can understand a woman?" Caliori replied laughingly, but then returned to a more serious tone "They know too much for their own good, and for all their definite... usefulness, have a habit of withholding details. Something I don't have the luxury of accepting or the inclination of tolerating. Good enough for your standards, Jake?"
 
 "Will do." he shrugged "So where do I go and what do I do when I'm there?"
 
 "29 Richfield blvd, Augustine. Closed apartment house next to a theatre. Cannot miss it. Has been out of business for the better part of last two years, but hasn't been touched by gangs, homeless or construction crews. One could wonder..." she paused theatrically "I know for a fact that the place has an off-limit area, reachable by the elevator... shaft."
 
 "A haven?" he asked the most probable
 
 "Nothing so mundane. Plus, those tend to be better guarded or disposed of, when no longer necessary. You'll see when you get there."
 
 "Then what?"
 
 "Oh, Jake." she tilted her head patronizingly "You used to be a detective, do what comes natural. Investigate. I want to know if the secret area is as 'secret' as advertised. There shouldn't have been any, and I mean any, activity around the place for the last three, three and a half month."
 
 "And by 'activity' you mean..."
 
 "Our kind of activity. Which could be anything, I suppose. Ominous men in suits and shades, scary noises in the middle of the night, gargoyles leaping from the rooftop..." Caliori said, looking down from the balcony. She was playing again, and Jake supposed he'd gotten all the details he would need. "In your left coat pocket you will find your advance payment," he checked How and when did she do that? while Caliori continued thoughtfully "We will have to get you an account and a credit card eventually, cash is impractical and traceable. But I trust you'll manage for the time being."
 
 Cash was 'impractical'? he must've been living in the wrong part of town
 
 "Now..." she turned back to him "The Elysium is scheduled to end around an hour and a half before dawn, but for our purposes it will effectively end somewhere before 3 AM. I believe you have somewhere to be, and soon?"
 
 Inside the mansion
 
 "Ultimately, it isn't our problem. You could take it to the Primogen, I suppose," the young black man told the Kindred that had been explaining something to him during the last few minutes gesticulating feverously "But I wouldn't want to give you false hopes. With all that's happening at the moment, the chances that you will get any of them to intervene here are pretty slim. I'm sorry, but that's just how it is. If you please excuse me." he finished, leaving the disgruntled man to himself. He left the panel section and grabbing a wine glass from a passing tray, he took a drink, then pressed the container to his chin lightly, thinking.   
 "And now. What was that all about?" he said to himself thoughtfully, looking in the direction of the door which Caliori and the other two had disappeared a moment ago. He looked around the room, searching for a particular person, but given her short stature, he wasn't much surprised when he didn't find her. Evelyn was a crafty Kindred and one of his most able clanmates, but having been Embraced in her early teens, she was easy to overlook in a crowd. He sighed and headed for the main door. Having left the building, he produced a cellphone from one of the pockets in his loosely fitting jacket and proceeded to scroll through the numbers until he reached the desired one. It took a moment to get a signal, the weather made phones act weird even without all the scrambling from the mansion's security. Finally he got through
 
 "Gary? 'Sup, Frost here. Hello? The connection's shitty man, turn that thing down, I can barely hear you... Yeah, better. Frost here. Listen, you know that guy Kraven, right?" he spoke to the machine and paused as the voice on the other end replied "...Yeah, that one. How good do you know him anyway? ...Uhuh. I see. Know of anyone who's got some solid contact with him? ...Heh, seriously? Damn, what a hermit. Uhuh... Kay, kay, whatever. Look, I think we need someone to keep an eye on him, so somebody who knows him better would be handy." there was a pause "Hmm? Quinn...  Quinn... Ah! Yeah, whassisname, Jackson, right? Ok, yeah, I know him. He'll do fine. Get in touch with the guy and send him here, tell him to find me. I'll be at Bishop's for the next two, three hours at least, so no rush, but I want him here tonight. ...Kay, peace." Frost finished and clicked off the phone
 
 "This thing isn't by invitation only, you know. No need to freeze out here the whole night." he said, nodding in the direction of the mansion, as he passed one of the parked vehicles
 
 "We're good, thanks." the burly ghoul answered, blowing cigarette smoke out through his nose. Frost thought he'd run into that one before, but couldn't place him. An Asian-looking girl – probably ghoul too, but he couldn't smell her so he wasn't sure – was sitting in the car Grizzly was leaning against, flipping through some records and shaking her head with exasperation. He thought he might recognize the ghoul by voice, but it was still pulling a blank, and it didn't really matter that much. Shrugging, he made his way back the mansion.
 
 ...
 
 "Quite the charmer, hmm?" the Primogen chuckled turning to Marie after the Brujah had left them to themselves. The snowing had abated for the moment and only a few muted sounds from within the mansion were audible on the balcony. The younger Toreador picked up her glass that she had set aside during the others' conversation, which she attempted at least not to appear to be eavesdropping on, thinking the Primogen will usher her inside now. Caliori however didn't seem in any hurry to return to the festivities. Still leaning against the balustrade she lightly spun her glass, appearing to contemplating its content for a while. Marie shuffled her feet uncomfortably but kept still. She didn't feel it was her place to remind the Primogen of her presence, even if being so utterly forgotten didn't do much for her ego. Before she could dwell longer on this thought however, Caliori did speak up
 
 "So, fledgling, what have you been told so far?" Marie blinked twice in mild confusion "About all of this. Being what we are." Caliori clarified, gesturing vaguely at the mansion and its current occupants. Well, there wasn't much, Marie realized, all she knew had come from Neil, and he'd given her more or less the 'bullet-points', as the Americans put it, not a great deal of detailed information. And truth be told, she couldn't even remember all of what he had said. She begun answering to the best of her ability, but the Primogen stopped her
 
 "No, no, 'we' as in those of our blood, our Clan." she said setting her glass aside.
 
 ...
 
 Snake Eyes wished the Chief had sent more people. Or at least that he had a couple more cameras, and an additional pair of eyes to go with them. He had been busy following selected conversations and noting the company important Kindred kept tonight, but even though he hadn't wasted a single minute this evening, he still felt that something was slipping past him. There was so much going on at the Elysium, he had to choose his targets carefully, despite 'professional interest' urging him to try and keep an eye on every single individual in the room below. From where he was crouching currently, he had easy access to another shaft on the adjoining wall, should he require better vantage. Despite being constantly busy however, Eyes was actually having a great time. He silently hoped Pina would still show up, the Malk really knew how to liven up the mood, though his errand boy was doing a passable job of freaking people out thus far. Miller's conversation with Charley Frost had been another merrier moment, and seeing him storm off after the Brujah had very politely told him to go fuck himself put a grin on Snake's face for a long while. You could say what you wanted about the Brujah, but they really had a low bullshit tolerance and rarely took it from anyone. Not the greatest disposition to have yourself, Snake mused, but fun to watch in others.
 
 The precise moment at which Nail and company had returned downstairs he wasn't sure, but it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes ago. Snake Eyes' clanmate and the broad-shouldered Malkavian hung back by one of the more imposing sculptures, while the warlock chick made a beeline through the crowd towards someone, whom Snake believed to be of her own Clan. Noticeably absent from the picture – Patillo. This was to be expected however, as the Ventrue would probably be joining daddy 'backstage' before the rest of the gathered would have the privilege of being graced by the oh-so-charming Prince's presence. Whether Rocher had actually arrived yet, Snake couldn't tell, though some of the remaining Primogen had already made their, uncharacteristically silent, entrances. Some more silent than others, the Nosferatu grinned to himself.
 Turning his gaze towards the Tremere leader, who had brought a small entourage of her own along tonight, he found the Stein woman again. Standing further down the room by the warlock she had sought out before, she held her Primogen's gaze for a moment, then bowed shortly and walked away. The Nosferatu could read body language well enough to know that there had been some type of an exchange, but that was one sort of conversation neither technology nor espionage could tap into. With a mental shrug, he adjusted the lens of his camera on another target. His mood improved instantly Well, well, well.
 
 ...
 
 "The other clans... ask any for their view of the Toreador. You're bound to hear the word 'vain' a lot. 'Shallow' from others, 'frivolous' from the tactful, 'preoccupied' from... well, most of the Ventrue. And I'll spare you the profanities of a Brujah's opinion..." Caliori shook her head slightly in amusement, and then laughed out loud seeing Marie's fairly bewildered expression "Snobbism, dear. Amidst all things 'Kine' we lose when transformed into what we are, good old human bigotry endures. Clan loyalties, Clan pride – and most of all, Clan prejudices. Among all of Caine's children, we are considered the weakest. This is, of course, our greatest strength." Marie put down her glass, thinking. Was this why Neil and Skull had been so forthcoming? Then again, the Primogen virtually radiated... what, power? Strenght? Confidence? Was she an exception, or didn't the others notice? Meanwhile, Caliori was talking again, but Marie wasn't sure if she was talking to her now, or repeating something she herself had been told somewhere along the line "You need to understand – the powers the blood grants us, they do not make us who we are."
 
 "They do not?" that seemed like an odd thing to say, for it did appear the supernatural abilities of the blood set any given Kindred completely apart from pretty much any human
 
 "In the slightest. You could gain a proficiency at the preternatural prowess of a Gangrel, yet that wouldn't allow you to match them in savagery. The manipulations of a Setite come fairly easy to those of our blood, but that does not one their equal at their... ah, baseness? And likewise, the others can adapt our gifts – but that does not mean they understand us." now the Primogen did look at her, and she felt almost rooted to the spot  
 
 "Take your friend Jake here, for example." Caliori nodded in the direction of the door through which the aforementioned had left just a moment ago. Marie wasn't sure what exactly, but there was also something strange about how the Primogen intoned the word 'friend', and for a second she felt slightly unnerved, but then the other woman continued "He has what you'd have to call a fairly wide-spread opinion of our bloodline. There are some who think even less of us, to be sure, but Mr. Kraven definitely doesn't hold me or you in high regard. By and large, we are mild irritants to him, easy to impress, deceive or remove, who can sometimes be useful in a... select few situations. A Toreador can manipulate the Kine, though a Ventrue is far more proficient at it; a Toreador can instill emotion, though a Brujah will make better use of the talent; a Toreador can be perceptive, but not to the degree of a Childe of Malkav – and that is it, as far as Mr. Kraven or any of his peers, is likely to give thought to it." the Primogen rolled her eyes somewhat theatrically, and slowly Marie felt the dawn of realization.
 There had been a small voice in the back of her head, asking why she had been allowed to eavesdrop on the conversation between Caliori and Jake. It sounded not only important, but to a degree also dangerous. Up until now, subconsciously, she had assumed her ignorance of the city and its politics made her a small enough threat to be allowed to listen. This may have still been true, but she also realized there was a... demonstration of a sort, for her benefit. She asked Caliori about this.
 
 "Very good. Yes." the Toreador chuckled "Do you think your Brujah friend noticed as well?" she let this linger for a moment, but this was a rhetorical question, and Marie didn't offer a reply. She did wonder though, if the Primogen was implying that they've all been playing a game here
 
 "Now, you would do well not to apply the same standards and misconceptions to him, or any other Clan for that matter." Caliori was saying "Think him a fool, and you will be as shallow as he sees you. Believe him to be a simpleton, and you are indeed as naïve as he'd have you. Everything they think of us? We are. When we need to. Every flaw they notice? We have. When the right people are looking. Others work by strengths, we, more often than not, by weaknesses. Find a gullible Brujah, feed him slogans and nod along to his antics. Run into a lofty Ventrue, feign admiration and coerce favors quietly. Pretend ignorance to the Nosferatu, and filter information as if you didn't know its importance. Meet a labile Malkavian..." the Primogen stopped for a second, looking at Marie as if weighing her chances "...and run in the opposite direction." she decided finally "Either way. Stereotypes can be an efficient tool, as long as you don't fall for them yourself."
 
 The younger Toreador absorbed every word. She did feel that Caliori was entertaining herself here a bit, but nonetheless any of this could save her unlife later on. This evening was even more important than she could've anticipated; she knew she had become a part of something bigger – that much Neil had told her up front. But she didn't realize just how big that 'something' was, and how small a part she was right then. And even this, the mansion, the Kindred here, were just a part of a bigger whole in turn. Either that was fairly intimidating or the liquored blood was making her slightly nauseous. She searched her head for a slight change of subject, as to not let the Primogen notice her uneasiness
 
 "What about hum... ah, the 'Kine'?" she managed. Truth be told, there didn't seem to be a place for them in this 'Kindred world' Caliori was describing
 
 "Well, what of them?" she returned the question, and Marie found herself talking. The Primogen listened with a slightly raised eyebrow but otherwise expressionless, and remained that way even after Marie finished. The silence stretched for a brief moment, and then she smiled and asked "What do you do, fledgling?"
 
 "Pardon?" this time both of Marie's eyebrows rose in confusion as the sudden change of topic left her at a loss
 
 "Is there some ability, a talent, hidden or otherwise, that the Embrace has awakened in you, I wonder? Or is it too early to tell, hmm? Such a thing can after all take mere nights, decades, or entire lifetimes. Some Toreador, unfortunately, never live long enough to find out. Wasted opportunities, unrealized potential and all that. One of unlife's harsher lessons, I suppose. Perhaps you're not there yet, as they say. You should definitely search for your path though," the Primogen offered, tapping her index finger on her chin as if thinking "there is an elegance even to trying." then she took Marie by the arm, leading her back to the mansion
 
 "Perhaps you should visit one of my galleries here in Cawford. I'd definitely like to hear a fresh opinion on some of my own works..." and before Marie could respond, she picked up in a flatter tone "Then again, you may not have a chance to. This is a gathering of predators after all. And you do still have to introduce yourself to the Prince tonight, if I'm not mistaken, yes? This is a dangerous time to be in the city and in your position, especially tonight, and everyone is under some pressure, regardless of station..." she finished silently, and shook her head, looking around. There were a few more Kindred present in the ballroom than before, as far as Marie could tell, and slowly they begun gathering in front of the slightly elevated podium on the far side. She also noticed that more than a few heads turned to where she and the Primogen stood, not every of which had the friendliest expression towards Marie, a fact which wasn't lost upon Caliori either
 
 "Well, here's where the speech ends. I haven't even touched the tip of the proverbial iceberg here, but I suppose that some things you have to find out by yourself, fledgling. If you do make it through this night, and I would be severely disappointed if you didn't, seek me out. Now, for the sake of my vocal chords... and your safety, as I see that some here seem fairly displeased about me spending time with Kindred other than themselves... I bid you a good night, Ms. Bedeau." and with a Hollywood smile, the Primogen left her alone among the dead again.
 
 ...
 
 "Impressions?" Rocher asked, adjusting his tie in front of the mirror
 
 "Hard to say." Sorana replied with a shrug. She looked around the room idly, eying the guards by the large double doors for a second before turning back to her sire. He and the Justicars had arrived almost half an hour ago, but chose to meet with the remaining present Primogen in private before joining the assembled Kindred in the ballroom. Rocher's entourage had left by now, as have the Justicars – much to Sorana's relief. There was something highly unnerving about being in the presence of someone as powerful as Lucinde, even despite her being Sorana's clanmate. And not to even mention Di Zagreb. The Tremere were a suspicious and shady group to begin with, and one of them wielding the power and influence of a Justicar was something to make a Kindred's skin crawl. She shook her head briefly to get rid of the thought and continued "We've barely spoken for five minutes. Not exactly time enough to run detailed character profiles."
 
 "Oh, come now." Rocher chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her. He knew his Childe better than that
 
 "Ah. Very well, as far as first impressions go at least—" she relented, sighing sharply for dramatics' sake "Both the Malkavian and the Nosferatu seem to be fairly no-nonsense type of Kindred, should prove trustworthy enough, given the circumstances. I expect very little complication from their side, and the intel provided, spotty as it is, confirms that. Oh, and your speculation was correct about the sewer rat, by the way, there are more strings attached here, and didn't go to great lengths to deny it, but," she paused for a second "I don't think that will interfere with our business. If all goes as intended, anyway. The Malkavian, a Mr. 'Bitterman', has a history of business with Julian as you know, so there shouldn't be any problems on his part." And if there were, she made sure Julian would take at least partial responsibility.
 
 "I see." Rocher nodded, and made for the door. "Anna's woman...?" he asked after they had passed the guards and were walking down the corridor
 
 "Is just a file on my desk at this point. Very guarded and not necessarily very comfortable with being here, but I couldn't say for sure. It could be the last-minute delegation, the current pressure the warlocks are under, or the presence of the Justicar in the building. Lucinde unnerves me, and she is positively jovial when compared..." Rocher raised an eyebrow and she trailed off briefly "...at any rate, she fits the file. Beyond that, we'll see." Moments after, they were joined by the Justicars and Sorana fell several steps behind the elders as they entered the main room. Conversations were hushed and movement all but died down as the doors swung open
 
 "Announcing, Childe of Severus, conqueror of Genina, voice of the Conclave..." the 'chamberlain' laid on thick, though no one even as much as frowned as other titles of the elder followed, Lucinde's appearance may have been that of a diminutive girl, but she commanded respect beyond that of a Gangrel army "...Justicar and Alastor – Lucinde of Clan Ventrue." The announced smiled warmly, spoke her greeting and quickly walked down the stairs, apparently not wishing to remain in the center of attention, which promptly shifted to the next arrival
 
 "Announcing, Childe of Drescher, liberator of Montreal, victor of..." again, a list of titles and honors followed, though while filled with names of much renown, compared to the predecessor, the Tremere's introduction fell noticeably short. Those versed in politics knew the scandal surrounding the barely 150 years old Kindred's nomination for the title of Justicar, though Di Zagreb himself didn't seem to mind. Garbed in '30s style, including a cane and hat, the Justicar appeared to emanate power and confidence. Having greeted the gathered, the Tremere followed in Lucinde's footsteps to take his place by the city's Primogen, or rather the Primogen's representatives, seeing as neither Hernandez nor Pina have seen fit to make an appearance. Or at least to make themselves visible to the public, it would be hard to tell, when dealing with individuals so proficient at the power of Obfuscate. Still, if anyone gave that matter any thought, now was not the time for it. Something else had drawn all of the attention in the room.
 
 "And introducing," the chamberlain boomed. And this time, one title only was necessary "Prince Eric Rocher."
 
 Somewhere in Redbrock
 
 "So. What do you need?" Jackson asked, wiping the snowy mud from sole of his boot on the sidewalk
 
 "You know Elysium's been called tonight, right?" came Gary's voice from the receiver "Some of our people are down there right now, our mutual friend C-Frost among them. He needs a favor, and you're available."
 
 "Hmph. What kind of favor?"
 
 "What am I? Your goddamned secretary? Get your ass down there, let the man tell you himself." Gary sneered and actually let out an exasperated sigh. Jackson rolled his eyes. Gary. Gary "Numbskull" Schwartz, contact runner and one of the most in-the-know Brujah in Cawford, supposedly a green beret or a navy seal (most likely neither) in his breathing time, nowadays served the Clan via phone, fax, email and whatever. Most agreed he should've been Embraced by the Sewer Rat bastards rather than the Brujah, but he did come in handy. Even if he had the sense of humor of an ass and personality of a turd, he did know what he was doing.
 
 "Watch it." still, there was no reason to take shit from the guy
 
 "Whatever. He'll be waiting somewhere possibly in plain sight. You can't find him – you go to Evelyn, she'll point your blind ass in the right direction, if he's not in fact with her, in the first place. No rush on this, but don't take the whole goddamned night."
 
 "Yeah, yeah. 'Least tell me if I should bring any special hardware or something."
 
 "Oh, you're such a pain in the ass, you know that?" Gary said in a pained voice, but straightened up "Look, all I know this has something to do with this guy Kraven."
 
 "Eh?" Jackson thought for a moment "None of my personal friends. Why call me?"
 
 "J-may, gimmie a break here. Talk to Frost. You in or out?"
 
 Jackson scratched his chin. Elysium's weren't really up his alley, but he wasn't doing anything productive anyway. Plus, and this was a major 'plus' here, Charley Frost had a way of getting stuff done. Most of Clan matters were connected to him in one way or another. He had been the 'go-to' man before, but now that Neillsen had taken up the title of Primo', and his backup girl was busy filling in for him, Frost had become even more of a weight in the city. And it never hurt to have a crafty Kindred owe you one.
 
 Bishop's Hill 091
 
 Rocher was talking now. Whatever be said about the Ventrue, he had what you call a persona or gravitas, the thing that made people listen, and listen intently. Sorana allowed herself a quick survey of the room from where she was standing behind the Prince, Justicars and Primogen. Even in the face of such accumulated power around him, virtually all the eyes were centered on Eric Rocher, Prince of Cawford. It wasn't just what he was saying, all this about restoring the city, maintaining it's stability, all this could've come from a thousand senators, ambassadors or mayors, she had heard the gist of it all before. No, it was who was saying it, and how. Perhaps he was using the powers of the Blood, she supposed, perhaps not. She had seen Kine and Kindred alike humbled, trembling before him before, even though he hadn't raised his voice or voiced a threat to them. There were deadlier individuals out there, she didn't doubt. There were deadlier individuals in here, she reminded herself. Few of them could've summoned up the courage to raise their had now, however. Perhaps over the years, he'd become so adept at invoking his charisma, that it was a natural thing for him now. Either way, even his adversaries, declared or otherwise, agreed with every word now, saw the Prince talking, not an enemy. The effect wouldn't last, of course, Kindred thrived on enmity and bitterness. It was no smaller part of them than the blood in their veins. But still... for this moment, she couldn't feel anything but pride for being Eric Rocher's Childe.
 
 "...And ensuring that we are undisturbed in this effort," Rocher was concluding "will be Mr. Donovan, whom some of you may recall successfully leading the Camarilla offensive in Middletown, under Archon Bell's orders, several decades ago. Mr. Donovan, joining us at this moment, will be assuming the title of Cawford's Sheriff." he finished, turning his gaze to the far entrance from which in a background of murmurs and hushed exchanges the announced approached.
 
 Marie couldn't see what had caused the commotion, but apparently this 'Donovan' person was a known character among at least some of the gathered. Being too short to look over the crowd, she leaned slightly to the side, looking past the taller Kindred. Somewhere from her side the fragment of a hushed conversation reached her ears
 
 "...cannot believe he'd get York's people. What was that about them being apolitical?"
 
 "Heh, crap, obviously."
 
  "Yeah. Did any of them even lift a finger when there was real fighting going on? Shit, do..."
 
 "Shhh, keep it down..."
 
 The rest of what the Kindred behind her were saying escaped her, because as soon as the newly appointed 'Sheriff' (whatever that meant in this society) came into sight along with his entourage, her heart sank. The tall, ragged man leading the small group she did not recognize, but the one to his left very much so. Her hand went to her stomach, purely on its own accord, feeling the recent, still barely healed wound. Instinctively, she leaned back behind the taller crowd separating her from the group making its way towards Rocher, not wishing to find out if the savage one from the park remembered her as well. Seeing 'Donovan' and his companions gather behind and around the Prince, she silently cursed to herself. Presenting herself to the local ruling body would be stressful enough even without those... ah, animals, growling and snarling at her from behind Rocher's back.
 
 Bitterman suppressed a smirk. He wasn't perhaps the most up-to-date Kindred in Cawford as far as politics went, but he knew enough to understand when someone was making a point. And Rocher recruiting his predecessor's own bodyguards to work for him was a strong one. As the 'new' Prince, he'd have at least twice as many enemies as he had supporters, some of whom would have probably counted on the Gangrel being at least a thorn in Rocher's side, perhaps a tool against him later on. Being as it was however, the potential tool became Rocher's asset. 'Turn every weakness into a strength' – business 101.
 
 After that short intermission, the remaining part of Rocher's speech went fairly uneventful. Soon, the gathering returned to it's previous flow, with circles of influence shortly forming around the more prominent individuals and a whole group of Kindred just dying to have a talk with the Prince. Sorana smirked; she was off only by a minute. She had estimated the speech to take just over fifteen, he was done in fourteen. The 'fun' was just starting.                        

 

                                                  

Offline [archive] munchies.Trooper

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #146 on: August 24, 2006, 06:25:00 PM »
                The faint smell of gun oil filled the room, mixed with stale blood from the empty plastic bags that were once filled with life giving blood for humans and kindred alike. Dropping the oil stained rag on the ground Mike looked towards the clock that was propped up on the makeshift table, letting out a sigh. Mike stopped cleaning his rifle and went back to the table where a set of keys with an alarm remote lay in pieces. Grabbing the soldering iron that lay on its side, he began his work again with rewiring the remote. The laptop computer at the other end of the table beeped and flashed a message on the screen. Looking at the screen, Mike reads:
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Code sync ready please insert ROM chip in the reader and press enter to continue.â€?
 
 With a few last touches with the soldering iron, the ROM chip from the alarm remote is placed inside the Chip reader. Tapping the enter key on the laptop Mike gazes at the screen on more time.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“ROM Chip sync Started…. Copying ROM chips information…. Writing Arming codes for detonators to ROM chip…. Writing Disarming codes for detonators to ROM chip …. Writing manual detonation codes to ROM chip…. ROM chip sync completed…. Would you like to set a detonation time?â€?    
 
 Staring at the blinking cursor, Mike pondered the idea of just having the explosives go off on a timer, but changes his mind before a clear thought could form. With a few clicks of the keyboard Mike gazes at the screen once again.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Detonation will acquire if alarm goes off…. Syncing Old information with new information…. ROM Chip ready for use….â€?
 
 Grabbing the chip Mike places it back in the remote and reattaches it to the circuit board, and assembles the remote back to it former state. Pushing himself away from the table, Mike looks over his little would be home and sigh’s again. Slowly he starts to clean up the empty packs of blood and throws them in the trashcan which he also uses as a fire bin to destroy most of the things he does not like to leave around. Tossing a match into the trash bin the plastic begins to smoke and melt into nothing more than a bag ball of plastic. The smoldering embers of plastic which once filled the trash can died out, Filling the air with the smell of smoke, oil, and blood.
 
 Walking towards the washroom Mike grabs a small bag filled with some makeup to get ready for this big kindred function. Changing his appearance before was easy, now it took more work since his skin tone started darkening up from the Assamite blood which now ran though his veins. What seem like hour but which was only 30 minutes Mike had him self looking like a member of Clan Venture without the aid of kindred powers, grabbing the three piece Armani suit that hang from the back of the door Mike finished getting ready. Taking one last look in the mirror he was out the door with the car keys, and GPS transmitters to go play nice Kindred of this city, in hopes to get a better understanding of his two targets. As he leaves he locks his laptop and turns on some last minute security equipment and hides his small cache of weapons, and then leaves to where he parked the car he would be using. Making a few last minute checks on the trunk full of C4 explosives Mike gets into the 2006 BMW M5 that just happen to end up missing and drives to the Elysium.
 
 Walking towards the mansion Mike hits the remote to arm the car alarm along with the C4 that filled the trunk. Walking past the doormen, Mike enters the mansion and begins to search for his targets.
                       

 

-----signature-----
           I do not dare deny The basic beast inside
 It's right here, it's controlling my mind
 And why Do I deserve to die?
 I'm dominated by This animal that's locked up inside
 Evolution by Korn    
                                                  

Offline [archive] Killer39787726

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #147 on: August 24, 2006, 10:56:00 PM »
                I grab one of the liquored blood glasses on the way out and drink it down. Caliori’s little game was starting to get tiresome, she did put a little show for me and the rookie. Torries. Maybe she wanted to be like Mary Astor, leading me into a hunt for the legendary maltese falcon. Either way, as long as she was paying me, who was I to complain?
 
 "Announcing, Childe of Severus, conqueror of Genina, voice of the Conclave..."
 
 I stand at the door for a minute and leave just as they’re about to introduce the new prince.
 
 Diplomacy is the art of saying 'nice doggie' until you can find a rock.
 
 ---
 
 The drive to St. Augustine takes me a short while. The place is easy enough to find.
                       

 

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Offline [archive] Grendel8101

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Re: Family Business
« Reply #148 on: August 28, 2006, 01:29:00 AM »
                The Tremere turned and walked away.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“The stick up her ass must have thorns,â€? I glanced at the painting.  Ã¢â‚¬Å“Nice use of iambic heptameter.â€?
 
 I turned my eyes to the Nos,  who was still grinning and sipping blood.  I downed my own glass in a swallow.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“So, any idea why the powers that be are sending members of the three of the most non-diplomatic clans as representatives in a diplomatic mission?â€?                        

 

                                                  

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Offline [archive] Sodom40280831

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Family Business
« Reply #149 on: September 11, 2006, 07:02:00 AM »
                Nail turned to Bitterman and shrugged.
 
 Ã¢â‚¬Å“Beats me. If I had to guess, I’d say the other clans were under the impression they had better things to do. Leave it to the freakin’ Torries to turn away right when they have a chance to put those people-skills of theirs to good use for the Cam. Lazy fucks. I mean don’t get me wrong, this is no holiday for me either but at least I’m willing to do my bit for my cla…uh, the Camarilla.â€?  
                       

 

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