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 leastâ€â€" 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
"...can
not 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.
