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Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
The estate was just outside the city proper. Each of the vehicles had to pass through two security checkpoints before being allowed to pass. The first one seemed routine, checking under the hood of the car and below it. A few men with flashlights glanced inside briefly. The second one was a bit different. A number of men wearing cheap suits, each with a shaved head came before each group, taking any weapons they had which were given freely. Danielle’s car had the most weapons, taking a full three minutes for all the weapons to be handed over, including Danielle’s knife at Al’s insistence.
The estate itself was large, with three wings attached to the main building. It was at the east wing each of the newly embraced were dropped off, left alone. Not even their sires stepped out with them. They were met by another man with a shaved head, this time dressed in a monk’s robe, who blindfolded each. They were led inside to sit on a chair, leather, one which the characters could sink into and get comfortable.
It was within fifteen minutes that they arrived, and with the loud crack of snapping fingers, their blindfolds were released. They found themselves sitting in the same room, all of their chairs pointed towards a hunched figure in the center. It was dressed in rags like a beggar, and had a distinct hunchback. Its face was covered by three layers of hoods, though a single, glowing orange eye stared back at them. Clockwise they were arranged Erica, Rick, Claire, Danielle, Amy, Faruq, and back to Erica.
“I am Donovon.” The thing’s voice sound feminine, rich and deep. “I am to instruct you on the procedures to make sure you do not warrant reason for the Prince to kill you.” He eye rested on Danielle. “At least, no more reason than he has already. Each of you will be allowed one question before we begin.”
As she spoke each of the newly embraced was handed a glass with blood in it. Danielle was given a large plastic jug instead.
Amy
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You recognize the name Donovon as the one the other’s mentioned before. You know that like you, she is Nosferatu. Slick and Mike were unarmed, though Flat Face handed over a pair of brass knuckles and a sawed-off shotgun.
Claire
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Victor handed over a small sidearm, but Rogan had no weapon, joking that maybe they should hold him instead, if they dared. The guards did not respond to his challenge. His parting words were, “Don’t trust any of them.”
Danielle
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There wasn’t enough time for Al to tell you about Jackal the Nine-Bladed, only to promise she would soon enough. As to why he would hunt her, it was simple. First, Danielle was the only one he had got a good look at, and two, Danielle was the only one who had easily discovered connections to the mortal world.
As to putting her family in danger, Al simply said that her family and friends were only in as much danger as Danielle chose.
Erica
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The ride over to the Prince’s was pleasant. Josef had a sharp wit, commenting on some of the latest cultural trends in the Americas, mostly his pity for the poor humans who had to endure it. He did admit though that it was a vast improvement over the 1980s.
When she was let out, Josef assured her that he would be waiting alongside the Prince when she was brought in.
Faruq
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Melani did not speak to Faruq. In fact, she sat the front of the limousine with the driver, leaving Faruq alone in the back to his own thoughts. Any weapon he had was confiscated by the servants of the Prince at the second checkpoint, the wouldn’t be able to proceed until then. He had no parting words from his sire.
Rick
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On their way, he began to hear more and more about how strange the night was. Apparently, there were six of them total who had been embraced, something that simply didn’t happen often, and certainly not in a medium sized city such as Havensworth. Apparently two were from Clan Ventrue, the former leaders of the city, and who owned the biggest financial institution in the city. Another was Clan Nosferatu, a clan of monstrous-looking kindred who now ruled the city. A fourth was Clan Gangrel, those in touch with the wilderness and their inner beast. The last was a clanless, a Caitiff, a young girl who’d most likely be killed as her sire wasn’t given permission to embrace.
Quenton reassured Rick that he’d be fine as he was dropped off.
All
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Everyone has half a blood point in their glass, you need to drink a second to get a blood point. Danielle has three blood points worth of blood in her hand.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Erica Lee
Still wearing the professional outfit she'd had pressed specifically for a job interview at an investment firm, the young woman shifted in her chair, attempting to find a comfortable position and only partially succeeding. She glanced around at the others, but when it became apparent that none would immediately speak, she raised her free hand.
"Hello Donovan, I'm Erica," she said.
"What's your best advice?" she asked.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
The woman, or thing perhaps, shuffled itself around to face Erica, gazing at her. "Observe. Watch how the kindred act tonight. See who are allies, see who are enemies, see who seems to hold power, and who are on the outside."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Keep calm.
These were the words Rick repeated to himself like a chant. He truly was in the belly of the beast, with men and women who could kill him with a flick of their wrists. The former cop intended to watch, observe, and perform when needed. He started by observing the other new Kindred. All of them were likely more or less as in the dark as he was. The detective took some comfort in that thought.
"Nice to meet you Donovon. Name's Rick." He greeted the thing, attempting to be as polite as possible. Even if it was a monster, it deserved some respect, at least until it showed itself to be anything other then polite.
"How many Kindred tend to come to these little parties? Thirty? Forty?" He figured it was best to know just how big this society truly was.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
"There is no need for pleasantries, Tremere, but I'll remember the courtesy." She moved forward a few scuttles. "There were 31 kindred recognized by the Prince in this city, though not all will be in attendence. Two kindred have met final death this night, then there are the six of you who wait to be accepted or not."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Back in the shower, Faruq had had a revelation visited upon him, he was sure of it. Reconsidering his battles of the day, and all what had come of it, he had recognised a certain, repeating pattern interspesed throughout it all: When he had planned and thought in advance, struggled to keep his self-control, he had been beaten, every time:
I trieda' push her out da window, she jus' up an' noticed dat. Even though I'd been all sneaky-like an' distractin'. How? When I woke up, I trieda' play at stupid, like, I don't even know who I am anymore, and it di'n't even get recognised. Why? Even dis Kirsch-ass ponce-o looked at me all knowin'-like, and all dis time, dem's both been frontin' threats. Why'd they do that to a guy dey's killed? A guy who's like fully aware dey got super-powers? 'cause, ob-vi-ous-ly, they can read mah mind. Like dat. Everytime I trieda' outsmart 'em, I... well... I did it, eventually. But still, they seemed so outta it all, like there's not even anything new to that. Like it ain't even worth nah respect when a guy goes up against a whole -room- fulla living dead without even a shirt on - and he makes 'em jump! The hell was that all about?
But when he had acted on instinct and impulse, he had typically gotten what passed for successes out of it:
I mean, I went up against her with a cheap-ass age-old lighter, just like that. She hadda strength an'a speed an'a teeth and I? I was already down for the count 'n' bleedin'. And den I come up wi' mah hands on mah lighter, and I swear, she up friggin' -jumped-. Thinking back to that moment of obvious fear in Melanie's eyes, a predatorial smirk had graced his features once more, and the water pouring down upon and all around him had shortly reflected scenes of carnage in the pale, red dribble it had still been washing off his maltreated skin. And I promised her I would see her suffer. Coat myself in her blood and speak prayers atop her corpse one day. And I -meant- it. Every word. And dis thing inside me? Jus' kept roarin', I should wait for her snapping, catch her in rage, bite down on the fist that would strike me and rip and tear. Until I got the blood. And suddenly, I's all calm, and in time for their little whatsit with Uncle Ahmad's voice there.
And only then had he remembered what exactly it had been that he had thought:
So, obviously, they can read my mind, somehow. I told her to read my plans in my thoughts, and she did, 'parently. Next mistake she'd make there. Braggin' 'bout it, like a goddamn punk. Tol' me she can read it, see it, hear it, jus' by lookin' at me once. She tipped her hand. They jus' keep betrayin' themselves all over, nothin' for me to do. And all a' dat means that I can't jus' plan my crap. Thinkin' means that I level the field in their favor, and that is tha last thing I'd want. Dey's terrified a' me packin' my instincts, though. And that's how I gotta roll. They laid me in heavy chains, and tol' me it's for my protection, like I'm a retard. But they were afraid a' me, no two ways about it. And so, I gotta keep on rollin', winning, but I can't just plan. I gotta act on instinct, hella sudden, hella cool. And inbetween two boutsa sudden cool, I gotta weasel. Lion-blooded Ferret, bitches. I am just too good for you.
He had felt a lot like an animal, in a good way, all the way here to this place. Like something you'd keep in the back of your car, afraid to sit next to it, like Melanie had obviously been. After he had stepped out of the shower, having considered and deliberated like many a time when watching the rain, and nursing his bong on his knee while eating, he had felt relieved. He had gotten the chance to remove all the waste from his system, to think, to take stock, and to regain focus. In a way, it almost seemed to have done more for him than all the blood, but it was blood for which he lusted, hungered, now. And the absence of the rain, as well as Melanie's implying silence, had left him room to ponder his new outlook, to get used to this new suit, and to ultimately clean his mind and very pointedly think about nothing (which here meant "various colorful parrots using various colorful cursewords in rapid succession in front of his inner eye").
Yes, Faruq al-Assad had tried to be in control. The nagging questions Miss Forrest's repeated comments about hatred and wanting to make things pleasant had instilled within him, he had done his best to force aside. He would not, could not allow himself to love her, forgive her, respect anything about her - except her superior strength. What he had sought to do was to remain in control of himself, and of his surroundings, and yes, a series of most unfortunate overreactions had eventually been his end. But he had gotten his second chance, and his god-given mission, and proof and a cause and a conscience to go along. So maybe he would be expected to try and act less out-for-power this time around? To less persistently strive for control? Perhaps what all this implied was the need for him to act purely on instinct from time to time, to leave the Lion out only where all the Ferret's feints had faltered?
At any rate, the Ferret in question had chosen to go with that.
Yet as for questions for Donovon, he had too many to ask.
The first, and most obvious one, had naturally been "Damn, lady, what kinda freak-show they pulled ya out from? You a goblin or somethin'? Crap. Seriously, get outta my hair like now!", but he had kept his mouth shut in front of her, partially because she seemed to actually be important, and partially because she was certainly not the only one of such... captivating looks currently in the room. The other one would appear to be in a rather similar position to him and his own, of course - But still, he preferred to not overtly delve into appearances at this point.
Really, they simply were so ugly. But then, that one kid there was drinking her blood right out of a jug, where they'd been given glasses (I miss my glasses, still!) - and what would it matter, then? Appearances, where they mattered, lay in style as much as looks. Thus, Hussain would always tell him, and as such he kept his cool.
Instead, he would sit, drink, bask in his own greatness, study the other five people and the thing in front, or four people with one thing among them and another one in front, hope for a refill, and hear the other's questions out before asking his own - which would probably be for a refill, after all.
Really though, about thirty? And we's supposed to cow-tow to them 'n' what? Can't say I like this whole thing one bit. And, feeling like it couldn't hurt him to make allies, he tried to project his relaxation all over the room, trying to take the edge out of this whole situation, waiting for his turn to speak.
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Tl;dr: Keeps mouth shut for now, will ask last, if possible. And not actually about a refill, I guess it bears pointing out. :smalltongue:
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Thank you, Mike. Thank you so very much for the wonderful evening, Amy thinks, sarcastically, as she sits blindfolded in a strange room. She sighs. Can't keep blaming him, can she? She has made her thoughts on the matter very clear, and now is probably the time to stop thinking about what's happened and start thinking about how to, you know, survive in the days to come.
When the blindfold is finally dropped, Amy turns around to look at the other people in the room None of them has fangs is her first thought, which she supposes is her brain's polite way to say 'none of them are hideous monters like you'. Well, Mike had warned her about that, at the very least. He had said that this particular curse is only of the Nosferatu. Aren't I so very luc... Wait, i know that guy.
That guy is the young man sitting on her immediate left. Amy mentally substitutes the gray suit with a hoodie, adds a swagger and an assured smile... She has saen him sometimes at the shop. More often than not with a thick smell of smoke surrounding him, and not cigarette smoke, either. Well, if I know him, he most certainly won't know me. Amy reminds herself to stop staring. Can't be pleasant having someone like her staring at you, after all.
She stares at her glass without drinking, for a moment, then mentally steels herself and downs the contents. Whatever taste she was expecting, that was not it. It tastes sweet, actually. Well, at least I like it. It would have been awkward if I couldn't stand the taste. She very consciously chooses to not think about where the liquid in her glass is coming from. Now is really not the time.
"Ma'am" she starts. Madam? Miss? Awful abomination from the night? Speaking as a fellow awful abomination, Amy figures it wouldn't hurt to be polite "Would something be requested from me, in particular?" This is the person that chose her, after all, at least according to Mike. She doesn't want to err for lack of etiquette.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
"No." The words almost hit like a hammer, at least at first. "The five of you will go through the tradition of being accepted into the city. Once that is over, you will be handed back to your sires. Your sires, and the elders of your Clan if they are not one and the same will isntruct you on any special duties you have, after the formalities."
There was no mistaking that she said five, not six.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Danielle shivered, she had been right anyway whatever else they this was the behaviour of a crazy cult, handover your weapons was sensible, blindfolds to cause a sense of helplessness, new members held together first to build a sense of community, coupled with the cloaked leader of the ceremony.
She looked at the jug of blood - she doubted that getting more blood was to be considered a sign of high status - she smiled at that lightly, what else could one do in these circumstances.
She tried a sip, she expected the taste of blood to be as it always was during and after fights where she wasn't fast enough, it wasn't thought tasting refreshing not unlike a glass of refreshing water after a hard work out, her stomach churned at the thought - this was someone kid, maybe a parent or a sibling - and she was drinking there blood like a refreshment, but she had to that was clear, maybe Jackal the Nine-Bladed was the hero here and her just an unfortunate accident that he had tried to save before she became a monster like the others, she continued drinking trying to control herself while forcing the blood to her injured leg, to try to heal. But Al had made it clear he might go after her mother and friends, and she would not allow that.
She sat for a few minutes like this hearing the others speak and the leader answer before she focused on anything except the blood and her own hunger.
Finally looking around, mostly women she noticed, that added other unfortunate implications, but than Al was a woman and did not seem a slave so maybe it was just her being bad-minded.
She had to stop herself recoiling from the hideous creature beside her, her fingers tightening on her chair to prevent herself leaving it, the rest looked normal enough but deep down the monster was only showing outwardly what they all likely were within, if the woman caught her reacting she forced a small apologetic small for it, she was new too so likely not her fault.
Sitting in her chair in her tracksuit, she caught her own smell for the first time that night being to preoccupied earlier the sweat from her jobbing long sense having settled into the clothes, she was decidedly uncomfortable as she thought of her question, can I make a phone call to avoid a manhunt being called, sensible but her mother was not panicky with her, she knew that she could care for herself - hell she might even still be at work, can you explain the rules that I have to follow they had already indicated they would get to that, can I have more blood the thought turned her stomach, where did the blood come from who had suffered for her to feed ... that one stuck with her but for a meeting of thirty or so the person may not even be able to answer. Why am I regarded as so dangerous this one was important but not something she wanted advertised.
Her voice soft and respectful with a defeated sound to it, "what is your best advise you can offer me to avoid being destroyed while securing as much independence as possible for myself", truthfully she wasn't even sure the courtesy of a question applied to her also given how they had acted so far.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Donovon laughed, and her age showed a little more clearly, as her deep alto turned into a raspy, chilling sound. "Oh, you're a smart Caitiff, aren't you? To those of you unware, this girl is Clanless. She is of weak blood, the lowest of the low. Unlike the rest of you, her sire had not earned the right to pass on the curse to another. Whereas the rest of you are entering a coronation of sorts, this one is walking into a trial.
"Act meek. Act respectful. Beg if you have to. Do not correct anything a kindred says, even if you believe them wrong. Even if you know they're wrong."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Respectful, she could do that, she had been practising for college interviews, meek might pose a challenge, but she could try at least.
"Thank you Donovon", there that was respectful, she could do this, "might I offer an idea that may save you and yours some time or annoyance?", and that was somewhat meek.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
If the others in the room took time to notice Claire they'd find her dressed plainly, sneakers jeans and a grey tee, plain except for the words 'Heavensworth College' printed in block black letters. They were also showing signs of being quite damp from the ill weather. Her shoulder length dark brown hair hung loose, and most definitely could use some care, tangled and windblown with more then a bit of dampness to it. Though aside from what had evidently been a rough night she could certainly be called attractive, just not this moment unless "disheveled" was high on the list of desired traits. Something not helped by Claire's present demeanor. Her arms were crossed over her breasts, while the fingers of her right hand tapped on her other arm. Her eyes went around the room slowly, a cat eying a new environment and irritated at having been disturbed.
Claire was not sure what she had been expecting but she did not like being blindfolded to be led off like a sheep. She'd already had a rough time and was in no mood to be taken off by more strangers. What a great joke that would have made, killed twice in one night. It seemed though that the medieval subterfuge was just that though. Claire found herself faced with a man (woman?) wrapped in robes, they looked like someone had ripped them off Friar Tuck and added a hood. Those eyes though, not a human then. Another vampire then?
After taking in Donovan Claire's eyes had darted to the ugliest woman, she'd ever seen. God how many vampires looked right out of Nosferatu? The rest were better. One was a teenager, couldn't have been in college long. The rest were more alike at a glance a woman and two men in business suits like she'd grown up seeing her dad come home from work in. Profession types then? At least the older two, who confirmed that impression when they spoke. The third, something Middle Eastern, looked too young for that. An interesting collection of people to say the least.
Claire hung back and let the others speak. One question was a bit silly at this point in the game. Apparently living forever didn't give these vampires any clues on how to educate. Questions came last, you were supposed to lecture first and then open the floor. She had many but with no basis to go on how could she prioritize their importance?
The others responses started to fill in the picture some. Evidence suggested that vampires came in different types, Rogan had called himself Gangrel that one had been labelled Tremere. They didn't sound like names, or not personal ones at least. And the teen, clanless they said, was subject to destruction for what had happened to her. Vampire law it seemed was pitiless, killed again just for family relations or more importantly it seem lack of. Rogan had told her vampires were political, she'd been expecting something a bit less tribal. Damn but what could she do to help the girl? For that matter should she even try help her? Being a dead parasite had to demand some sort of ethical revision. Claire stared into the cup of in her left hand seeking to answers to her own questions.
Though speaking of cups of blood. She devoured Charlie for the same stuff now filling a cup. Worse still, though sated pretty well she knew she could have more. Something inside her wanted more and more. No this time it didn't get to win. She couldn't go around leaving corpses behind her, she needed to have control. And it would start with moderation, she'd fed tonight and that was that. Claire put the cup on the nearest space that seemed convenient, the floor if need be. The universal signal for not interested.
"If there's to be a trial and a ceremony then all this seems to be just eating up time," she said after some time, "One question is a nice favor and all but I could come up with dozens just off the top of my head. There's a whole world that humanity and science know nothing about but some old myths. If its all the same I'll hold off asking any question until I have enough understanding to ask a real one."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
"Thank you, ma'am", Amy replies when her question is answered, then wisely shuts up. She had been thinking more along the lines of etiquette and less along the line of duties, as Donovan had seemed to misunderstand, but it was nice to know that she wouldn't be held in any special standard. Wait, did she just say five? What about... A moment later, Donovan meaning is made clear.
And I thought I had got the short end of the stick. She turns to look at the woman Donovon had defined as lowest of the low. She had flinched, before, when looking at her, and had tried to cover it up. Yeah, can't really blame her here. Despite that, Amy tries for an encouraging smile. Given the kind of face she has to work with, how much it looks like a proper smile and how much like a grin of the kind 'I'm gonna wait under your bed this night to slit your throat and eat your liver' is anyone's guess, but it's the best she can do under the circumstances.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Donovon's smile could be felt by everyone. "Oh, Rogan's young pup is clever. Yes, I am wasting all of your time. As we speak, your elders are learning what they can about you, figuring out how the power dynamics in the city have changed. Now then, do you have a question Scotsman, or can we proceed to the part that's not wasting all of your time?"
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Erica
Erica turned her gaze to Faruq, her expression neutral. Straight black hair had been retied into a neat bun on the back of her head during the car ride. Though her face was carefully non-committal, her posture betrayed a hint of curiosity at his answer, or perhaps it was just anticipation of the struggle she expected in understanding his accent.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Well. All eyes on me, they's on about the wastes of time, and no point trying to get smart with these. Having had spaced out for but the shortest of instants there, and in the throes of stress levels ironically lowering in the face of the impending meeting, Faruq was not entirely sure whether he actually had any important questions.
We're supposed to be all careful and polite around the old guys, roll with their bull**** and act like they's smarter than us. Nothing new. We're also supposed to leave a good impression. What more is there to know? The non-Donovon-abomination had been looking at him, he could have sworn it. Likewise, the others had by this point at least noticed his presence - and he, in turn, had noticed that except for the dude that Donovon had called "Tremere", and possibly any number of the goblin-looking two, he was alone among girls in here. One more reason to not act stupid, obviously.
"Caitiff" means Clanless? This is a thing of Clans. Then that means trouble for her. Eyes on me. Whole lotta ladies in here with me. One of 'em clanless. Goblin said five, not six. Whole lotta crap going on here, then. Just means I gotta be hero-tier. Act cool, then they'll be cool 'round me, and act impressed as necessary, then I can impress. Make allies, settle things, work out advantage. How? No clue. Can act like having one, however. He had realised a short while ago that there was actually a lot of opportunity for him to act calm, in control, and confident around this whole "vampire" thing - After all, if people like Forrest and Kirsch, who had all reason to be scared of, mad at, and nasty to him, took time out to ask him what kind of blood he wanted, and arranged for it, then it stood to reason that the blood inside his glass was likewise not the type that had been suffered for, and he did not have any reason to be worried here in the least. (Except if that stuff was all bogus, and this is some torture victim I'm havin' here. Which would mean they'd been lying, and that would in turn mean I would have found that much out by now. Somehow. Idiots that they are.)
As certainly, noone else was as smart as he had been about that one, however, this meant he could, for one, drink blood - which might in the end have something to do with his superpower potential - yet, thereby, also send out to everyone else in the room that he was on top of this, perfectly fine with what he had become, and likely carried some sort of plan around in his head. As he did not actually have one, beyond "not letting anybody get the drop on him" and "leaving good impressions", not even a mind-reader could track it down, though, and as such he would now wield the element of surprise, of knowing-what-noone-else-would-know, and stand the best chance out of everyone in here to hold his own in there. Which, in turn, meant instant respect, instant "being interesting", and ultimately a clear sign that he was not impressed with the show they'd put on for them at all. Which I ain't, jus' to make it clear.
Speaking of... They's gonna find out about us what they can? Then that means Forrest is likely filling them in with the stuff we are thinking now as we speak. Or that any number of them is mind-readers, too. That means I shan't play games with them. And that means, just act natural, all instinct up in dis. So, showtime, buddy. Sudden cool. Faruq made to rise, enjoying the notion of at least a good-sized share of the eyes in the room having at least glanced at him by this point, cooly presented his now-emptied glass, and as he looked around, could almost feel just how damn good he looked with this as he put on his sexy voice and responded: "Well, certainly, Miss Donovon, we can. The name's Faruq, however, and if you'd let me have my question, then, I'd have to ask ya whether we could get a refill up in dis before we go, y'know?" And with that, he gestured at the various glasses and cups and plastic jugs with his own emptied drink container, whipped out his most dazzling salesman smile, and enjoyed feeling like he knew just exactly what he was doing - once and for now, if nothing else. "No point having us run in hungry, after all." ...Oh well. Now it's out, coulda timed that better. But why bother, my point's been made. And he, Faruq the Ferret al-goddamn-Assad, was, once again, in control.
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Also, screw it, tempted to blow Presence for a first impression now. Should I, folks, what say you? :smallbiggrin:
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Claire gave a satisfied grunt. That hadn't been much of a guess, but it seemed she'd jumped all the barrels after all. Of course Donovan and anyone else that might be watching didn't need to know that. Less it seemed was more in this so she said nothing further.
When Faruq spoke she'd suppress her suprise. Despite his appearence his voice said Scottish. That was certainly, irregular to say the least. He'd been keeping quiet too, and that question was perhaps too trivial even for this being a waste of time. If he'd really been after more blood he could have just asked for her cup, she'd not touched it. Maybe he was attempting to score points in a different manner.
Claire stopped herself though, she was playing into the game that was going on. Considering her fellow newbies as maneuvering politicians. She'd fallen into the mode of thought almost by instinct. Unless it was actually instinct. A troubling consideration. Perhaps the animal inside her was more subtle then she'd imagined. If so it would explain something about Rogan. Was that her fate, to end up a cold calculating animal with no affection for another, just ledgers of win and loss. Very troubling.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
"You all may." They could here scuttling about as the servants moved to get more glasses, and a second jug if need be.
As the servants handed those who wished a second drink their full glass, Donvon spoke. "The five of you embraced with permission will enter first, the order does not matter. Goo in single file, and do not speak until spoken to. There will be a long table to your right, occupied by seven kindred. These are the Primogen, the elders of each Clan. In the center will be Jean du Noir, he is of my Clan, and Amy's." She gestured, pale, gnarled fingers towards Amy. "So I suggest you prepare yourselves for someone less than pleasant on the eyes. Each of you will be introudced by your sires. Once again, stay silent. Jean will list you the six traditions our kind lives by. You will swear upon these laws, pnealty of final death. After that, you will be free to mingle with your peers and your betters.
"Danielle, you will stand to the side as the others are accepting. Once they have sworn their vows, you will stand trial. Jean will be your judge, and your jury. Al Rowe will speak on your behalf. It has yet to be decided who you take the lead role in your prosecution. I believe they are arguing over who will get the privilege now. The trail will be short.
"You have one minute to finish your drink and prepared yourselves. First impressions count."
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I'll give 24 hours before I post them walking into the banquet.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Rick sips from the blood, though he does not feel hungry. Still, better get used to the taste, seeing as he would be consuming it for eternity.
The disturbing part was that he was already used to it. He wasn't quite human anymore, and the thought sobered him.
The former detective rises to his feet. He casts a brief glance at Danielle, the leper of their group. He finds herself hoping she survives. To be caught up in all this, then killed because of some backroom politicking... it would be a damn shame, and the exact kind of injustice he fought against in mortal life. To find the same sort of injustice pervaded this society would frustrate him. Especially if these kindred's ideas of an "execution" was letting someone like Harry tear the poor victim apart.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Lady, we ARE prepared for someone less than pleasant on the eyes. By now, if nothing else. The initial icebreaker he had just landed fuelling him, he happily drank his glassfull, straightened up, fussed about with his hair a little to look more stylishly dishevelled - which was, after all, the look he was typically going for, and if the look in the mirror he had gotten after his shower and while dressing up had been any reliable indication, he did, if anything, look less dead now than when he'd been alive, his rebirth having done away with the pallor and rattiness his erstwhile habit had left him with over the years - and made sure to practice his standard facial expressions - No point letting his eyes betray that he thought of this whole affair as a crude, witless joke at everyone's expense, now was there? Reckoned such. I mean, seriously, that girl wasn't given a choice about this, and neither was anyone else, if my way of... recruitment is standard in any way. But instead of jacking the guy that actually -knew- the rules and "embraced" - Mighty One, how I hate that euphemism - some chick without any permission, anyway, they put his -victim- on the line and want to -kill- her. Hardly a halfway sane system these peeps got going, here. So, he could score points by acting cool, no question. He could do respectful. He could play along. But perhaps he could leave an even better expression by taking his chances where they arose, and maybe this "Prince" would be somewhat more reasonable than the retards and lackeys they'd met right and up until now? All the more since, hey, if I just got that right, dude's a goblin exactly like Donovon and... her. A look at Amy, a name already forgotten, if she had even mentioned it so far. Better ask again before they went in there, then. Chances are I got exactly the point to convince him, and even if he's not the judge in this, he should have some control. Be cool, Faruq, you are in it to win it, here. This felt good - Having a goal and an angle, even if both were short-term ones. Emptying his glass with a final sip, and noticing that a good share of his minute had already passed, he conspired to maybe initiate conversation, now, as standing in waiting rooms and talking was better than standing in waiting rooms and silently waiting for something to happen, far as he knew.
"So, as I said, everybody. Thanks again, Donnie, by the way, good to have some answers down up front. But as I was sayin', the name's Faruq. This is Erica." This with a gesture at and another wink towards the girl in question. If she is my better, and Kirsch wants me to act the part, I might as well play the herald and introduce. All the more since... ah well, that backside, man. Anyhow, focus, now. "And from what I can gather, we's Ventrue, which is basically one of the clans. Going by what good Miss Donovon here just tol' us, there's about seven of those, and the bosses of them will play judge 'n' jury in there today. Or spectators, I'm not quite sure. Anyhow, if I might compile that, we know we gotta act smooth, and won't have to worry 'bout anything if we do. Donovon already said it's jus' a formality, so, everyone ease up, and we's gonna get this over with and no harm done. But I'd say, anyone else like me in this, we prolly all got more questions than one, and some more introductions are well in order. Like, we's all in one boat here, yes?" Take the nervosity. Speak. Focus. Get it on track. Project control. Rick, Amy, Erica, those are names I heard. Figure the guy is Rick, might as well sort this out then. "So. You there, big guy. I understand ya name is Rick, and ya clan would be called Tree-murr, then? Or that a surname or somethin'? More we know, the less trouble they'll hit us with if they's tryin'." And they will, from the way things look like, and you ain't gotta know there's mind-reading up in dat.
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Saving Presence for Monsieur de Noir, then, actually. You said we need one more glass for a blood point, though, daelrog - What's our pools look like, then, the refills in? :smallbiggrin:
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
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Oh, I don't know. One more than the last update on your preludes. At this point, I trust each player to take into account their blood pools. Danielle can heal her wound, and have up to five additional blood points if she down both jugs.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Claire caught the attention of the servers and took the chance to return her untouched glass. It was more then a little disturbing how much seemed to be available. Even if she needed it to live on now she could think of no way to keep large stocks she could call humane. Even if freely given it could be put to better use then casual refreshment. Bad enough she'd killed a man to slake her thirst tonight she didn't need to contribute to routine harvesting.
"I'll bring up the rear of the line," Claire said rising to her feet and pushing any other chatter to the back of her mind.
She cared as little for the order of the line, but it seemed simplest to express a preference right off. Let the suits or one actually related to the Prince go first. Besides she wasn't going to make much an impression being the only one dressed casually and normally. Or so her mind and the smidgeon of manners she'd picked up growing up told her, having them all stripped down and come in naked would have elicited as much actual interest from Claire. Might be more comfortable actually, her outfit didn't seem to be fitting right. She was simply, aware, or it in a confining way. Probably the hard wear they'd seen tonight.
What occupied Claire at the moment was the poor girl about to stand trial. The juxtaposition was severe to say the least. Claire couldn't think of anything to really help though. This was the sort of social thing that had never appealed to her, she preferred things that worked on reliable principles. Human minds were the opposite, coming out on top of a situation like this was an art not a science. Still Claire didn't want to be another to leave the teen out in the cold.
"Hi I'm Claire," She said to Danielle as she approached, "I didn't catch your name but I just wanted to let you know you have my sympathy. I wasn't planning on dying this evening either and had little choice, but you seem to have gotten a rougher hand then the rest of us. I don't think I can do anything to help you but I hope you pull through."
It occurred to Claire that if the teen was some sort of criminal that showing sympathy might be looked down on. Here though she just didn't care, it was just a decent thing to do.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Amy nods politely at the offer of a refill, sipping the second glass more slowly and actually trying to decode the taste. She doesn't manage to go behind 'sweet' and 'pleasant'. Prepare yourself, she says. Bummer, I seem to have left my make-up kit in the other purse. Powdering my nose would certainly help my chances now. In a way, that's Amy's way to prepare herself. Taking the entire thing as a joke, even if only in her mind, helps her being calmer.
She turns another look to the others, taking in their faces and their expression, and, once again, she find herself looking at the woman on her right. If Amy is nervous and scared, she doesn't even want to think about what... Danielle, was it? is thinking right now. She honestly feels for the girl. And associating in any way with her in this moment won't certainly be a good first impression to make on my part, would it? But...screw that. Amy looks down for a moment at her hands Not too bad, the skin is gray, but I don't have...talons or anything like that, then reaches out on her right and squeezes briefly Danielle's arm, in a silent gesture of support.
In that exact moment, the other girl comes forward and introduces herself. Apparently, she's had more or less the same idea as Amy. Good. I guess there are more than some decent people even among vam... kindreds. That is a relief.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Erica
The red liquid stained the sides of her glass as she swirled it. She didn't desire any more, and she doubted it was up to her standard anyway, but she liked having something to occupy her hand.
Erica blinked. She'd definitely heard her name.., then she realized Faruq was giving a bona fide speech, and he had just introduced her. Once again, she tried to keep her expression neutral, but could not suppress a small sigh as she brought her thumb and two fingertips to her temple and forehead at the mention of how the meeting was a mere formality and no harm done. Apparently the Scotsman had forgotten about the life or death trial to take place immediately after their introductions.
"Yes, I'm Erica Lee," she said, rising to her feet once Faruq finished. She was clearly Asian, with fair skin, probably a tad fairer now than earlier in the day, wearing a conservative suit and heels. She looks to be in her early twenties, but it was difficult to say with certainty.
"Very nice to meet all of you, Amy, Rick, Danielle, sorry I didn't catch your name," she spoke each person's name as she turned to them, Claire being the odd kindred out.
"Faruq," she smiled, "and Donovan, thank you for answering our questions."
She paused, apparently unsure of how to proceed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't bring any business cards, I'll be sure to get some made up," she deadpanned before taking a seat again.
"I'll go first," she added, crossing her legs.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
The investigator listens as the Arab rambles. He was either incredibly nervous, or pretending to be a fool. Maybe a combination of both. Rick makes a note to continue to observe him.
"Charmed to meet you Faruq. Erica." He says gruffly to them both, before giving a brief nod to the other new vampires. Yeah, my name's Rick. Private investigator, which may be why I was recruited." He chuckles dryly, tugging at his suit uncomfortably. He may look formal, but he felt unused to such extravagance.
"From what I understand, Tremere is my clan. Can't tell you much more than that. My turning was rather... sudden."
A thought strikes him. "Did either of you have a weird vision when you were turned? A sort of... out of body experience?" The persistent vision nags at him.
Seeing Erica declare she would go first, Rick makes a note of that as well. A social climber? Eager to impress, perhaps?.
"I'll go second, if no one has any objections." He expects none, but he has no desire to antagonize any of his new "family."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Amy stares for a couple of moments...and then starts to laugh. It's a genuine, amused laugh, even if it sounds a lot more like a cackle. She supposes it's just the way her jaw is made now. And she needed the laugh, even if it's at her own expenses. She didn't find a better stress relief when she was alive, and she doubts she's going to find one now.
"Out of body? No" she says after a second, when she can talk again "My experience was pretty much all in the body, as you can see" she says, gesturing at her ruined face. For a moment, she has a sudden memory of a mirror, and hideous lime curtains, and feels a flash of panic, but it's soon overcome, and just a second after, she can't remember if she's really felt it. "And go right ahead, I'll come after you."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Somehow, his attempt to calm everyone down didn't quite seem to work as intended. You better do as I'm sayin', folks. This is all foregone conclusions here. There's just no way they don't already know what they gotta know, and none of us got a chance 'less we at least -look- like we know what we's doin'. They had to realise that much. They could not be that thick. So get chill, and stay chill, and nothing can happen. They's gonna try and kill that girl, and unless we's at our best against that bull****, she is actually gonna die, and we'll be guilty. Trust me, guys, when I say things like that, it's just because I got a plan, okay? At least the ugly one - didn't he recognise that voice from somewhere? - was now laughing, so at least he had had some positive effect with this. Two positive effects. Erica had, after all, just smiled at him. "M'pleasure, Miss Erica. Anything else I can help with, you ask, alright?"
And for the maybe less positive ones, he had just been adressed by Rick. Sort of. "Outta body though? Only kinda. Was dreamin'. Weird stuff. Chalked it up to bloodloss, really." He shrugged. Not like anyone needed to know about him having long and much-needed talks with people his subconscious pretended to be before dying and then waking up while chained in a basement. "Also, private investigator? Like Humphrey-Bogart-type stuff 'n' crap?" He briefly imagined this guy with a hat and coat on, narrating to himself while stalking dark alleys in search of blood and criminals. "That's kinda badass. I was in... sales, up to now." P.I.s mean "cops", and "cops" mean "bad for business". Except Steve. But what are the odds that this guy got any hang on that? No need to get our stress on in here, at any rate. "Mainly just cheap merchandise, like 'em little keyrings and watches and stuff, y'know? Anyway, if noone minds, I'mma take the rear when we're going in." Can't walk behind Erica, maybe check out what the others got. And get a grip on the situation. Stay in control, Faruq, stay in control.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Ok Danielle thought, not even going to hear me out on helping them, well that was to be blunt expected a call home to avoid a possible manhunt - and thereby buy some time for the vampires to concoct some believable lie as to why she had gone missing after they killed her so that no one would investigate and her mother would be safe, was probably to much to hope.
She flinched again when the hideous woman smiled back, she hated herself for it, she had seen two deaths tonight not including her own, and in fairness she had not flinched then, get a grip, actually that was it, it was the atmosphere of waiting and expecting the worst, it used to happen at fights to what if I lose, what if I stumble, what if I get hurt, eventually it became what if I hurt them, and the lesson was have a glass of water and calm down, do your best and don't worry about something if it hadn't happened then plan against it, if it had then learn from it, the thought was something of a revelation to her, but it always was when she worried at fights.
Taking her refilled jug she finished drinking and tested her leg finding it healed, do what you have to it is to late to worry now, they are the monsters not me, darkly she added not yet but it was mostly for internal humour, poking fun at herself.
The trail will be short Donovan had said, likely meaning that the outcome was certain and as privilege had been used to describe prosecuting her likely not in her favour. "If this is one of those trials where the lawyer gets executed at the end if their client loses I would prefer to have Al avoid that", she stated flatly, Al for whatever reason had helped her and she didn't want to see her die.
At the odd man's comment on 'it's jus' a formality' she actually barked a laugh, "Yea that what I'm thinking too ... but thanks for pointing it out", she stuck her head ruefully, well at least there is a sense of finality to it, and I won't have to hurt anyone considering unless there is a trial by combat in which case I think I will hurt someone.
She looked at the woman as she approached, half expecting some sarcastic comment like she might have heard in school for the airheads and was almost taken-aback by the kind words, "I ... appreciate that, but I wouldn't worry really", sighing "in a few weeks and months when you can't meet your friends during the day and at night smell them as food, when you can't go home for Christmas or for birthday parties, well you might not think the trade-off is worth it you might even envy me never even having a chance to deal with it", smiling "not that I won't try to survive, but that is for other reasons", considering namely to protect mom, find Katrina if possible and provide some solace to the families of the poor girls Billy killed, and any others I can.
Seeing the monster's - no Amy's - hand on her arm she almost flinched again, but didn't she was more relaxed now that she had accepted things, she looked at the woman more carefully, and hoped she had not heard her words as they might be even more true for her, "Thank you", on impulse she hugged the other woman briefly, "for the attempt at least", she might need a hug too after the night and she would have to live in this world now.
Hearing the big man speak, "no visions, but I was drugged at the time so I don't remember anything ... can't say that that is something I regret to be honest", shrugging "so likely a useless answer for your interest".
Looking back to Claire, "I think I should go last, wouldn't want them making mistakes and killing you instead", she smiled but she was serious, the woman was seemingly decent and she didn't trust these wackos not to make a mistake like that and blame it on her.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
That's it, then. She got it. She's the important one in her trial, after all. This brightened his mood significantly. After all, his message had travelled well enough. For now. So, sexy-badass-voice on, macho smile gracing his features, newfangled fangs well-retracted and everything, he quickly made to respond as follows: "Nah, it's alright. And don't you worry; I walk in last, there's no way they's gonna mistake me for you, and I can keep an eye out in case they try... somethin' sneaky." Which they just might, way I see it. Too bad I'm better at it than them.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
She looked at the man, "Sorry but no, it has been made very clear to me that these people" such as they are, "are big into their rules, if you break them you might not only put yourself in danger of offending someone, but put the group in that same danger of making an initial bad impression", shrugging "and it wouldn't help me one bit to go flaunting their system as an entrance", throwing an eye to Donovan "not sure of that counts as correcting a kindred, but well it will be over fast either way right", her voice an odd mixture of bitterness and humour at this last.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Dang, man, talk about determined. "Well... uh... yeah, I guess there's that. Still, I did make the offer, and if you's insistin', me insistin' would just drag this on. You get back on it in case you reconsider, yes?" That last with a hint of a bow, and the very basics of the Faruq-the-Ferret-al-goddamn-Assad-wink-smile-and-ohwellyouknowthedrill. Not much to this system I would care to honor, dis Kindred she can interrupt, and then she -is- one of the sexy ones. Would be a shame about it, really.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Amy is not sure what reaction she expected, but a hug was not it. For an instant, she stiffens, not knowing how to react, then she returns the hug. Think what you want, Donovon, I don't frigging care. "Hey, no. Don't say that, don't assume you don't have a chance." She almost wants to add we'll try to do what we can, but to be honest, what they can might be precious little at the moment, and Danielle seems smart enough to realise it. Still, I'll be in that room. I'll keep quiet and observe. Even Mike said I'm good at it, after all. And If I see an opportunity to make even a little difference, I'll take it.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Rick smirked at Faruq description of his work, since it was exactly what he had envisioned when he first started. "It's not quite that glamorous. Truth be told, for the longest time I've been following unfaithful spouses. The one night I happen to uncover a great conspiracy, I die because of it."
"Sales, huh." He regards the man with suspicion, but quickly relaxes, reminding himself he's not a cop anymore. " Yeah, yeah, I know."
Looking at Amy, the detective has to hold back a flinch. He regards her with sympathy. "Sorry to see that. Good that you have a positive attitude about it though. Looks aren't anything apparently. If nothing else, this society's leader is of your clan, so it's not holding him back." This is the extent of Rick's ability to comfort, and he awkwardly shuffles back and forth.
He considers the answers of the others, finding them disappointing. Maybe it had just been a dream. But hell, for all he knew, dreams now meant something. His out of body experience would warrant further investigation once he got back to the chantry.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Come to think of it, that's kind of hardcore. These lots didn't make the impression of holding a merits-over-looks-persuasion here; if the guy -is- a goblin, and runs the show, then that means he might just be smart enough to be reasonable. As opposed to some folks I could name. This thought reassured him some, seeing how maybe he'd finally get a chance to plead his case in front of a jury these vampire kindred would respect. Their all's cases, come to think of it. Other than Ricky Bogarto over there, he was the only rooster in the yard here, after all. But speaking of... "Yeah. Sales. Like, miniature Santas and such things. It was a living, in the end. Right up to it. I kinda miss it now." And more than anything, he missed his lonely and abandoned bong, awaiting the return of its now useless master. Damn. Did you have to mention 'em unfaithful spouses, there? When I now actually have to drink folks... That would mean I can't use Faith no more. But maybe, I could get the ones I'll drink to maybe use her? Just you wait, he pledged to that too-long-already-absent smoking aid, we'll have hella threesomes now, girl, I can promise you! The first thought acted kind of soberingly, even beyond the second's cheering-up, and he swiftly changed topic to avoid whatever this undead form would produce in place of a single tear and a grimmace of spiteful determination: "But, basically, dem conspiracies. It's funny how that works, now, isn't it?" A lame comment, no doubt about it, but the best he could come up with without blurting out the thought processes he had actually take over now.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Donovon said nothing as the newly embraced kindred bantered, even when Danielle spoke to her. To the less obervant, she simply blended into the background. To those who noticed, she simply listened curiously, feeling no need to speak until the minute had passed. "Let us begin."
The kindred lined up Erica, Rick, Amy, Claire, Faruq, then Danielle. One of the servants led them in, and Donovon shuffled behind Danielle.
They walked for two minutes, the servant moving through a series of doors the began to disorient them. Erica and Rick could here the servant muttering the directions to himself, a number ofl efts, rights, then straights. It was after two minutes, and at the last door, he stepped to the side and gesutred in. As they entered in a line they saw what kindred banquet truly was.
To their left were the kindred of the city, or at least a good number of them. At the center was a handsome man with cat-like eyes, and two equally beautiful women laughing, drunk. One had pale white skin, paler than the others, and bright orange hair. The other had deep eyeshadow, and short, dark hair in a man's cut that worked for her.
In the corner was the freak show, the three Nosferatu Amy had met. Slick was wearing his "person" mask, though his buggy eyes and squat face made him only slightly more attractive than the other two. Falt Face had his chair leaned back against the wall seemingly not concerned about a thing, while Mike was looking flustered, looking the monster he was. Apparently he was the source of the laughter by the other clique of kindred.
Al Rowe and Iris were sitting near the front, a cold expression on Al's face. Danielle got a good look at her for the first time. Dirty blonde hair tied back into a neat, no-nonsense bun, caucasian, hazel eyes, and beautiful, the kind of beauty that radiated a calm strength.
Quenton and Trent were debating. Rick would notice that Chase was not with them. They stopped when Quenton pointed Rick out, and Trent sized the investigator up from afar. Melanie was sitting with them, but she was not taking part in their conversation.
Chase, Byron, and two others were standing in the back. One of the other two was wearing a business suit and aviavtors, with a five o-clock shadow, and a sweatyness that made him seem like a man having a mid-life crisis. The other one was a little girl, tusslign the hair of a doll.
Also in the back were five dead humans hanging upside down, stripped, three male, two female.
To their right sat the head table, where seven kindred stared back at them. To the far end was a woman. She had short blonde hair and ice blue eyes. She wore smart casual. Next to her was Rogan, with a plain white t-shirt. He looked appraisingly at them. To his side sat a young boy, maybe elven or twelve years old dressed in a suit. However, it was clear it was no child, as the bags under his eyes were dominant on his face.
Then in the middle was Jean du Noir. his skine had a beige tint to it. He had batlike ears, and large, deep set eyes. His head had no hair, including eyebrows. He was almost comical in appearance.
To his left sat Josef Kirsch, and Josef's left stood something vile looking. He was fat, He had tattoos all across his face and arms, acts of beastiality uf one looked close enough. his mouth flashed gold and his teeth appeared to be a series of long, sharp metal fangs surgically planted. He chuckled and the dead fat on his face jiggled. Finally, the kindred closest to them all was gaunt, and had balck hair that was greasy and stuck to his forehead. He was staring at Danielle, unblinking.
As the first five took center stage, Donovon put a hand on Danielle's shoulder, indicating for her to stay in place.
"Welcome to my home." Jean's face may have quite silly, but his voice was strong. "May each sire please rise, and stand beside their childer, and introduce them?"
The five sires stood up, and moved silently towards the one they each had embraced.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Erica
Erica's stride slowed instinctively when the servant stepped aside. She steeled herself before walking through the door, but nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.
"I've walked into a nightmare," she thought as her eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces. She remembered to keep walking.
"There's Melanie, Josef must be around..damn, don't look at the bodies!
Instinctively she inhaled, though it was now entirely unnecessary, at the sight of the corpses. Finally, she caught sight of Josef Kirsch. She forced herself to keep walking until she was at the far end of the table, so everyone behind her would be able to file into place. As she turned to face the prince, she chanced a glance at the others, behind her...
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Rick quietly observes the crowd of predators. Out of all of them, the only one he trusts is Quenton, and even that trust only went so far.
His eyes catch onto the dead bodies for a moment, causing him to briefly stop walking. They were being hung on display, and for what purpose? It was wrong, and the fact that none of the Kindred here seemed to mind made Rick wonder as to the true nature of this society. He makes another note to inquire as to what the crimes of the victims were.
He follows Erica, waiting for his Sire to come to him. He casts a few looks back at the corpses, but says nothing. at least, not yet.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
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OOC: Daelrog, I fully intend for Amy to make good use off the dots in Perception she has. I don't know if it's necessary to roll (tell me if that is the case), but just in case, please point out to me if there's something in particular she should notice. Amy has high perception, I sometimes don't :smalltongue:
Amy enters behind Rick, taking in the room and the people within. Forget the Nosferatu and Slick's place, this is the real freak show. Almost immediately, she spots Mike in the corner. Good. Why the presence of the man that, let's face it, killed her should make her feel reassured it's something of a mystery, but there's no denying that it does. She sees Erica turning back for a moment to look at them, and tries to address her a reassuring smile. It's like high school all over again, first in a line is never a good place to be.
In that moment, her gaze falls on the bodies, and she stops smiling. So much for trying not to wonder where the blood she drank come from. We try not to kill my ass, Mike. She allows herself one single, hard stare at her sire, who has moved beside her, then stops looking at the corpses. Now it's not the time. Not if she wants to keep moving and speaking after tonight.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Claire hadn't joined in the conversation in the room beyond greeting Danielle. Just learning names and faces was enough for right now. Besides she had no real interest in dancing through idle small talk which was all it might be. Maybe another time, but she would rather just get this whole thing over with. So Claire remained silent, but impatient until they were lead off.
Either this estate was designed by M. C. Escher or their hosts were playing another game. Or so Claire concluded during the walk. It made no sense for a route this circuitous to be the best way to their location. Probably didn't want any of them knowing the best way out of the building, or simply wasting time again. Or maybe there was something else going on she wasn't guessing. She hadn't decided by the time they reached their apparent destination.
As they entered Claire scanned the room. Her eyes though latched onto the naked bodies on the back. Obviously dead. Claire wondered how her compatriots felt about drinking that blood now. It brought an almost macabre satisfaction, she could not have save those people but at least she hadn't enjoyed the fruits of their deaths. Even if the blood hadn't come from those particular poor saps Claire had no doubt similar circumstances applied. Scanning the rest of the room Claire noted the sheer variety. It seemed vampires were a diverse group if nothing else.
Though she should have known that, Rogan was certainly not the suave Eastern European aristocrat of movie myth. Though thinking of her sire brought up those vaguely warm feelings again, he wasn't suave but he did have a certain dignity to him. Claire was not really surprised to see him at the table Donovan had labelled for 'Primogen' if she'd heard him right. That title was not familiar but the purpose was seemed clear. These were the important ones, the leadership of the city. Another at the table brought up a small note from earlier in the evening, the man with all the tattoos Would that be Sean Loveless then? Or whatever his real name might happen to be, the description matched at least.
Still a matter for another moment. As their sires rose Claire nodded lightly at Rogan but kept her silence. This would be shorter if no one started running their mouth.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Danielle followed the others calmly, mentally preparing herself and saying silent goodbyes to the people she cared for, and revisiting childhood memories that she held close, she could do this she was prepared ...
Or so she thought, walking into the room she did her best to ignore everyone else nodding politely to Al - she truly didn't want the woman to get in any trouble on her behalf - and then stopping cold in her tracks to look at the young child.
She was disgusted, she knew that cults liked to start young indoctrinate early and all that, but cursing a child like this was a different kind of twisted, the bodies shocked her less after all the society likely regarded humans as food and therefore placing them on display was like a human party with a stuffed pig - and she had seen death tonight, but it still seemed morbid particularly next to the child.
Her instinct was to go to the girl grab her and take her out of here to the police, but she knew that she would not be able to. Her hand balled into tight fist and her muscles clenched at the frustration of it, then keeping her anger in check she forced herself to keep walking after the others.
Looking at the top table another child sat on it to her additional anger, and another was fixated on her she glared back holding his gaze until Donovan touched her, she wanted to hurt someone and came close to hitting them as they did, a simple elbow to the jaw would be easy but she refrained she would - hopefully - have a chance to speak to the leaders and then she could let loose verbally of not physically, she nodded to her escort and walked to the wall taking a chair if one was available, standing not leaning her feet spaced for ease and her arms at her sides ... her hand was still balled from before.
She began thinking about exactly what she wanted to say if she got the opportunity.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Josef Kirsch spoke first. "This is Erica Lee. She is my childer, my responsibility. Her sins are mine, and mine are hers."
Quenton repeated the same, albeit casually, as if he was having a normal conversation.
Mike repeated it as well, though his was quieter, and those in the back could not here him, prompting red headed woman in the audience to ask him to raise his voice, much to the delight of her two companions. He did not.
Rogan was much louder, an air of menace in his voice, as if challenging the kindred present.
Then there was Melanie. To anyone watching Melanie seemed composed and confident, though Faruq could feel the heat rise from her. The boy at the main table seemed to hold back a smile as Melanie spoke. Sean Loveless did not, letting his foul grin show his delight.
The awkward one continued to stare at Danielle, though he hand was moving rapidly as he took notes.
"So you have said, so will it be." Jean waved with his arm and the sires moved to return to their seats, leaving their childer once again. Jean's demeanor turned from formal to more casual in an instant. He seemed relaxed. "Five new kindred in a single night, perhaps six. I daresay there nights will become interesting, no? I will read to you all the six traditions of Caine, and after each I will explain it in a way that kine can understand, to ensure each and every one of you knows the laws. Shall we begin?"
Spoiler
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Giving a little more time for Worlok to respond, and for characters to consider this new development in their relationship with their sire.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Amy stands as straight as possible, looking the prince in the eyes. Funny how one gets used to the strangest things: Amy’s first thought about him had been He’s not too bad to look at. Slick was worse. Mike was worse. Hell, Amy herself was worse, come to think about it. And the freak on her far right… Amy is not sure if he is another Nosferatu, but that one gives her the shivers. And not necessarily because of his face. Still, she forces herself to move her gaze slowly and evenly on all kindreds at the table, taking in all the details she can. First impressions count, said Donovan, so make them count.
When the ceremony begins, she is surprised at the words their…sires have got to say. That’s a hell of a vow to make. It basically means… what? That if she screws up, she’s going to screw up Mike as well, in the process? Guess I’d better try to not screw up, then. When it’s her sire turn to say the words, Amy turns briefly to him. She suspects a ‘thank you’ may be a grave breach of protocol, so she keeps silent, but she nods all the same in acknowledgment and thanks, hoping that the message is understood. And what would I give to know who those idiots in the back are and what their problem is. She has to remember to ask. If she’s still alive after tonight.
She focuses on the Prince’s words. There’s important information to be gathered right here. Perhaps six, he says. That means the trial’s conclusion isn’t so forgone as Danielle thought. That’s good news. And there it is that word, again. The one that Flat Face used. Kine. I guess it may only mean “human” . Just as Kindred is the word used for vampire. Kindred and Kine. It seems the title of a variety show… and now is not the moment to chuckle. With a certain effort, Amy keeps her face straight and her eyes on the Prince. Sometimes the ways her mind decides to relieve tension can be very inconvenient.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
As they had walked, Faruq had made sure to very pointedly not look back over his shoulder every two steps to check for whatever sneaky move he could have expected, and yet the temptation had drawn his eyes every which way, every so often.
Be cool, be calm, move forward, all eyes are on you and watching, now.
As the final door had opened, he had found himself unable to look back, a certain gravity, a certain inevitability washing over him, much like way back, when he had been not quite nine years old yet, and the doorbell had heralded Uncle Ahmad's first visit he would have to attend.
Be chill, be polite, speak when spoken to, this is important, now.
As they were led into the room - throne room? orgy room? storage room? - he'd been unwilling to look back, too absorbed in the alien scene presenting itself to the six of them as he was: All these people vampires, and that bat-eared little guy there in the middle the much-vaunted "Prince".
Don't fear, don't back down, stay in control, heart of darkness, now.
As they had been adressed, the very thought of looking back, of leaving, running, had already fled, looked back and turned around and run out of the door, the corridor, the main entrance, far down the road, beyond the manse, the town, the state, the ocean, and taken refuge somewhere in Edinburgh.
No longer there, now here, do not be nervous, be the Lion, now.
And as the entire expanse of this strangest of stages lay bared before his very eyes, he found that it was actually not so bad: Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had maintained this notion of a court in session, a dark room, with night-black carpets, pale men and goblins in suits surrounding them on man-high thrones of bone and iron, and every wrong answer meaning for one of them to be dragged away by the moving shadows, drained of blood and killed to be replaced by yet another victim. But this seemed harmless, somehow, almost casual, like a gathering of fetishistic business partners held to introduce a junior functionary to the inner workings of the company.
Now, granted, the mounted corpses were rather strange. But then, the blood had to come from somewhere, and he had certainly not helped justify any murder there - Even if the blood he had partaken of had come from these, it meant that they had given of it freely, and if that had meant their deaths, they had been suicidally inclined to begin with. Certainly. He had therefore never done anything bad to them, and whatever shock effect they may have hoped to achieve thusly was lost by the simple fact that these people had taken martyrdom upon themselves to help him serve his assignment, and possibly to save whoever else might have had died to this here gathering of parasites. Instead of feeling nauseous, or ill-at-ease like some might have, he therefore found it in himself to actually smile at them - Still kind of tasteless style in decor, if ya ask me, but hey, I'm not the undead monstrosity here. - and focus on important matters - Or at least, not the one in charge. Once I'm the boss, I'll make it better, this I swear. - the likes of "who it actually was they were now surrounded by": Right. More goblins, some weirdos, Miss Forrest, whatever this "sire" business means is likely also represented, that fat failure with the gold all over, then that little girl over there - they start early these days, now, don't they? - and the Prince. So, no reason to be worried. Just get this over with, wait for the moment you can speak, Faruq, and make it friggin' count.
Everyone else of the six he still stood amongst had seemed worried at first, and nervous - with him, himself, no doubt, being little different. But with all the resolve his quietly taking stock of the situation could land him with, and holding himself to the tenets he had set up - Cool, calm, polite, respectful, rooster in the yard, a plan - it was easy for the Ferret to just weather the proceedings as they came: This Prince, at least, Jean du Noir, seemed to in fact be a most reasonable sort, or at least not given to randomly flying off the handle, torturing the new guy, and then claiming that he'd tried to make this "fun". And he, Faruq al-Assad the "New Kindred", could respect a guy that looked like that and still managed to seem more stylish than the sodomy-clad joke in bling he had seen earlier.
But what's a 'kine'? That like, they call themselves the 'kindred', and the living folks the 'kine'? Kine as in 'cattle'? These guys got sticks up their ass or what? And why is that jackhat's face so flat? When will we get to the question-and-answer-part? There's bound to be one, eventually, right? Regardless, if he really just said five or six, we have a chance of getting that chick out alive. The possibilities, man, all the possibilities. Maybe I won't even need the more hardcore plans.
When Melanie made her outlandish vow, her childe had briefly entertained thoughts of launching his "The Ferret, greatest master thief in all of Europe" dream, in order for her to get arrested by some sort of vampire police on guilt of openly-embraced association - Funny how he already found himself wondering about, no, analysing the inner workings of these here freaks and their society, he reckoned. Also, when they're that hard up for new blood in the ranks they have to rape and kill for it, that means that nobody is born like this. So, Forrest got "embraced" herself at one point. Then she also has one a' dem "sires", and can't cause me trouble, because that would also cause him trouble, because her sins are mine, and mine are hers, but mine are also mine, and hers are yet another's. Even if it was that Weinberg fella. They did seem rather bent on avenging him. So they'd likely not cause him dishonor after his death. He noticed a strange warmth, and found himself replying to the smile and grin from over at the table with a particularly smarmy and unfased one of his own. But he had pushed these deliberations aside for now, the notion of Forrest catching the flak for all his... 'honest mistakes' - he had, after all, not received much input - just so reassuring, and himself being well-bent on impressing this Prince, who would certainly make a powerful ally, even beyond the mind-reading of... his "sire", then? "Siress"? "Sirealla"? and the overimposing presence of Kirsch. Instead, Faruq deigned to construct within his head a little play that would confound whoever read his mind right now, keep his back straight and his eyes straightforward, bask in the heat he could almost feel rising up from Melanie, and otherwise speak as it came to him.
Damn straight, yer Majesty. We shall and we can. Hit us up. was his last actively-projected notion, and he couldn't exactly tell whether he had but thought it or spoke it aloud. No matter, though, whatever this boiled down to, he had superpowers now, and Melanie would take the blame for all his messes. Life was getting better once again.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Erica
Too many new words, too many new faces and developments... how was anyone supposed to keep track of it all? Add to it five dead bodies just hanging there... Things were moving very quickly, and Erica hoped she would find some time over the next few days, no, nights, to put together a study session with Josef or Melanie...
Melanie... she definitely had a challenge on her hands. Her adopting Faruq seemed to apparently make her the butt of some vampire joke. Erica made a mental note not to broach the subject with the temptress.
"Learn to pull your own weight first," Erica thought, "then worry about your colleagues."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
She considered the words as the sires spoke them, initially thinking it simply more pageantry but after the third quite one began - only to be intrupted by some vampiric equivalent of Mallison, she began to consider them more carefully, the gut of it was 'My childer, my responsibility. We share sins', and that meant that the sire's own sire also shared the sins, and the childer of that sire thereby shared them creating a family of blame to seek the balance with ... and that was the problem with her, 'I am me. I am my own responsibility. My sins are mine alone ... and if I break something tough you can clean it up for me with no hope of payment or retribution', she was a walking embodiment of a breach in the insurance system that they had against one another.
Although it also meant that a sire could break the rule and the child could suffer for it, likely an easy way for the powerful to escape blame and consequence.
Five or six, not bloody likely, she thought clearly.
She took another look at the bodies now, were they decoration or practical she wondered, then she returned to face the scene in front of her glaring at the man watching her, likely the prosecutor wanting to put on good show.
She wondered how long it would take someone to acknowledge the princes question about continuing, well he had indicated that she might survive - even if she didn't believe it for a minute - and he had indicated that the rules were for each and everyone of them to hear, as such standing at the back and to the side she stated flatly "If you would be so kind", she spoke in almost monotone, but the almost was broken by just a hint of the anger she felt at bodies and the children being present and the bitterness she felt at the entire situation.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Claire continued her silence, but allowed herself a small smile as Rogan spoke. She was coming to like that air of casual menace he exuded so easily, it fit this room full of predators better then pride and vanity. The unvarnished truth of the nature, that a vampire was first and foremost an animal. Certainly that same Beast had crushed her easily enough.
As the vows finished Claire refocused on the Prince. She hadn't given him much thought yet, but comparing the others present it seemed odd that he was at least nominally in charge. While certainly ugly there was a comical air to the man. Could one rule over a bunch of animals without managing at least something of menace? If any of those other apparent elders were leading it would make perfect sense to her. Though she wouldn't say she knew Rogan from what she had seen, she could see him simply passing on leadership. The rest though she couldn't know, but visually at least they were more imposing. That bat eared Prince though... there must be some secret there.
Claire had to stop herself again though. It didn't matter if Jean du Orlock was more imposing then apparent or just up there for show. At least not to her, she as yet had no reason to care. The things she had to do were not political, she had a service to perform for Rogan and that was all.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Raising an eyebrow at the vow, Rick struggles to maintain a neutral expression as his mind races with thoughts.
So sin with Kindred is passed down from "parent" to "child." Another concept I can't say I completely approve of. At least it explains why Danielle's turning was so frowned upon. If her Sire had a bad reputation, or was an outlaw, maybe she is now too. Poor girl..
Regardless, Rick does his best to not show his unhappiness. He owed Quenton, and he wasn't about to ruin his sire's reputation. Not here, at any rate.
As Prince du Noir questions them, Rick nods. "I'm ready."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Danielle's word earned her a few nasty glares from several of the kidnred, including Rogan and the woman next to him. The Prince did not mind her words, and spoke once again. He stood up, and began to walk around the table as he spoke the traditions.
“The first tradition, the masquerade: Thou shalt not reveal thy nature to those not of the Blood. Doing so shall renounce thy claims of Blood. Essentially, keep what you are a secret. Don’t starting calling your friends and families and telling them you’re an undead predator that stalks the night. There’s a reason none of you knew of our existence until tonight, and we intend to keep things that way. Our dinner tonight is an example of what we’re willing to do to keep that secret.
“The second tradition, the domain: Thy domain is thy concern. All others owe thee respect while in it. None may challenge they word in thy domain. We kindred are territorial. The city is split into hunting grounds, where each individual or group of kindred may feed freely. Do not encroach on another’s territory without permission. Think of the city as a nice restaurant where each of us has our own table. This is not some cheap buffet where everyone walks over each other and simply grabs what they want.
“The third tradition, the progeny: Thou shalt sire another only with permission of thine elder. If thou creates another without thine elder’s leave, both thou and thy progeny shall be slain. I will say now not one of you has permission to embrace another, and won’t for some time. And now you all understand why the young lady to the side is on trial. You see, if we let kindred simply embrace whoever they wished, whenever they wished, we’d have armies of blood bonded thin bloods waging wars for their masters. Oh, did I say blood bonded, I am getting ahead of myself.
“The fourth tradition, the accounting: Those thouse create are thine own childer. Until thy progeny shall be released, thou shalt command them in all things. Their sins are thine to endure. This tradition explains why I had each of your sires stand behind you and take this responsibility. Once again, if we did not have some accountability, who knows what would happen. Hell, Rogan’s childer could kill Sean, Josef’s childer could take her condition to CNN, and Mike’s childer could start ‘tagging’ all of our homes with tacky gang markings. Naturally all three would be punished accordingly, but some fault does rest with the fool who would embrace a fool.
“The fifth tradition, hospitality: Honor one another’s domain. When thou comest to a foreign city, thou shalt present thyself to the one who ruleth there. Without the word of acceptance, thou art nothing. You are, in a sense, new to this city. As such you are presenting yourselves before me, just as you will present yourself to the Prince of any city you travel too assuming they have one. Be sure to inform that to any outsiders you see who haven’t talked to me first.
“The sixth tradition, destruction: Thou art forbidden to destroy another of thy kind. The right of destruction only belongeth only to thine elder. Only the eldest among thee shall call a blood hunt. This is my favorite one. Look around this room and you will see people who simply do not belong together. Take into account that we fight for political power, we fight for hunting grounds, we fight over slights both perceived and real, you’d think we would have all turned each other to ash by now. However, that is barbaric, and we do hold a mutual self interest in survival, so let me make this clear. Do not kill another kindred in my city unless I have given permission. I will promise you all that same protection. It is why the girl standing to your right still stands for even though she is a breach in the third tradition, only I have the authority to warrant her destruction.”
By now he was standing in front of the table. He leaned back against it. “Now then, that’s not so hard, is it? Humankind creates thousands of laws each year, we have but six. Mind you, there are certain factions of kindred who hold their own laws, but everyone in my city follows these six traditions. Now, each of you kneel before me one by one. State your name, and promise to uphold the traditions, and join the kindred sitting at the tables.” He gestured behind them. “Then you will be one of us. Some Princes hold elaborate ceremonies that can last a week, but I prefer to keep them casual, such are the times.”
He smiled, waiting for each to swear to the traditions.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Claire stepped forward, eager to be done with this ceremony as soon as she could. Those laws were really quite minimal, one she'd already figured out earlier this night. Most came down to simple civility it seemed. Of course, their sheer brevity suggested that meant there was little a vampire was not allowed to do. That was a troublesome concept. Still there was no way around this, best to get on with things.
"Thank you my Prince for your welcome and education, I glad you prefer a certain casual simplicity." Claire said as she knelt before Jean "I, Claire Russo, do swear to abide by and obey the Six Traditions of our kind."
Assuming that would suffice Claire waited for any response and then moved toward the indicated tables to let not hold up the next to follow her. Of course then the real climax of the evening would begin. The trial would show more about how things were really going to work. Claire simply hoped the girl survived. Watching the proceedings after her Claire found a seat as close to Rogan as she could manage, nodding politely to all she came close to.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
The laws were surprisingly minimal. The cop in Rick wondered if they were too minimal, though the enforcement of them seemed anything but lax. In any event, none of them really proved objectionable to him. He had no desire to go out and declare he was a vampire, no urge to create another kindred, and he respected others dwellings unless they gave him reason not to. As far as killing went... well, he was a firm believer in a trial first. No reason that needed to be different as a kindred then it had been as a kine.
Following Claire's lead, Rick kneels before the prince, forcing himself to look the manbeast in the eyes. "I Rick Valentino, swear to always obey the Six Traditions of this city."
Getting up when given permission, Rick makes his way to Quenton's table. As he's walking there, he gives Chase a nod and a small smile, thanking her for her assistance.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Erica
The young woman mulled the traditions over in her mind. They were elegant in their simplicity, but she could already see a few issues with them. Regardless, it wasn't like she had much of a choice tonight.
She stepped forward to the designated spot before the Prince and dropped to one knee.
"My name is Erica Lee. I also promise to uphold the six traditions," she said.
"Keep it simple", she thought.
Assuming she is free to do so, she stood up and walked to the back of the room, keeping her gaze at eye level to avoid looking at the corpses strung up there. Once she passed the two sitting in front (Al Rowe and Iris), she nodded to them and sat, wanting a good vantage point to observe the trial, and not wanting to be too close to the dead bodies.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
As each kindred kissed the Prince's hand, they noticed it has a slight fishy smell.
Rogan nodded back to his childer, and Chase returned Rick's smile. Al and Iris noticed Erica's nod but offered nothing in return, at least at the moment.
Amy could see several things happening at once. The fat, tattooed man was eyeing Al Rowe with a mischievous look. The one woman at the head table seemed to do anything but look towards Al's way. Rogan was in deep thought. She could tell the tnesion between Josef Kirsch and the young boy primogen.
Spoiler
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Other people with notably high perception can notice what Amy saw as well.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Spoiler
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Not sure of Danielle is perceptive enough, but I would say so, but she is more focused on the situation then the personalities at this time, perhaps a mistake on her part.
Maybe that was foolish, but screw them, she met the glares with her barely passive gaze, some only briefly but for even the instant it would be clear that she was not impressed by them either.
She spent a bit of time considering each rule in general and how it applied to her.
So step one was 'don't tell anyone' so yes the secret cult is a secret, and to secure that secret they are willing to flagrantly break that secret. The absurdity of it forced her to smile even as her other hand balled in frustration.
Step two was 'don't eat anywhere' you have no home or clan, so no hunting grounds.
Step three 'don't make more vampires', grand a good honest rule and easy to understand, she had no intention of abducting someone and ruining their life, except of course I have no idea how to make a vampire and so how to avoid it.
Step four 'don't embrace morans', another sensible rule, you will be punished for your your children crimes, normal people might benefit from a similar rule in face, of course she had no one that would vouch for her, so had no protection for any under this.
Step five 'report to the government when you move house, and report suspicious strangers' maybe a bit of a pain but not to bad for a small society, ok, this was ok.
Step six, 'don't murder ... each other' she couldn't think of them as people, tricky she considered what of some stranger is on your hunting grounds, feeding in an obvious manner and has killed one of your people. She was not against the rule but it seemed like it would cause issues on rare occasions.
She watched as the others moved up and swore their oaths, she suspected that the fealty and seating was not intended for her. She did give the prince a sharp nod of understanding to show that she felt she had a handle on he rules but made no move from the wall - if there was anything being a translator thought her in court it was not to agree to anything without whatever clarification was needed, unballing her fists she folded her arms across her chest.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Amy repeats the traditions in her mind. They are nothing she is opposed to on principle, thank God. And...another piece of the puzzle finds its place. 'She would have broken the whole masq-', Slick had said. Masquerade, the word he was going to use is masqerade, and the first tradition is why Flat Face killed that girl. Not that it wasn't perfectly clear from before why the reporter had died, but now Amy realises they had been pratically compelled by law too kill her. I have to be really careful when I move around, or I could find myself in a similar situation. And of one thing Amy is sure, she is not about to plant a hammer in someone's brain anytime soon.
She follows suit and kneels before the prince, looking at him in the eye. She doesn't know enough to form an opinion on him, but at the moment, she likes the no-nonsense attitude "My name is Amy Everett" she says, in a clear tone, to prevent any comment from those idiots in the peanut gallery. Before I died, I was a daughter and a sister. I was allergic to nuts and loved to curl on the bed with a coffee and a pack of cookies. I wanted to do something with my life, and tonight I just wanted to have some fun with a cute boy her mind supplies on its own. Now I guess I'll have to figure out what I am. "I too promise to uphold the six traditions".
She gets up when she's given permission to, and moves to take her place between the other Nosferatu, but not before turning to Danielle to give her and an encouraging look, of the 'I'm rooting for you' kind. She takes a seat next to Mike, addressing a smile to both him and Slick. She has question for them, but they would have to wait until after the trial.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Right. Don't do anything we don't tell you to do, or tell us about it when you do. Don't get all up on a brother's turf, and noone comes for yours. Don't kill us, but be prepared to kill everyone else to not let them know that we're killing people all over the place. Also, no murder in public. Cool. I can work with this. Faruq considered. There were obvious holes in this, but the old goblin seemed cool enough, and at any rate, he'd have to live with these people now, for better or for worse, until the grand plan could come to fruition. Playing along is easier than I thought it would be. Bowing low before this Prince of theirs, Jean du Noir, Faruq al-Assad did his best to sound as respectful as the occasion demanded, yet he could not avoid a certain nervosity tinting his speech with the kind of forcedly-casual mannerisms one picks up over the years in his career: "Say... Yer majesty? 's 'at the right title? "Yer majesty"? All due respec', and y'know, I mean it, but I'd have a question or two." Best to just spit it out right off, though. As long as the worst thing that can happen is for Miss Forrest to get angry letters, I should be cool. "'cos, really? I can swear to this, no problem, but I's still kinda confused with some things, y'know?" And it's not like my "sire" was much of a help so far. Hoping for a reply, he remained in his bowing posture, sticking to the old standard that looking nobility in the eyes unbidden is a breach of protocol, and hoping they could forgive his idea of good manners being a different one from most people's. Remember, they'll want ya to kiss his hand. That's not gay. He's a goblin. It's hardly even sexual. I can do this. Nothing strange about it at all. It's just a bunch of questions I will have to ask, they can't exactly deny me that little. And with that concern out of the way, he found himself ready for whatever the guy's reaction would entail. Focus, Faruq, get this over with, pledge the very rest of your existence to upholding the rules of the folks that killed you, and bide your time. You'll get your chance eventually, even if right now, it all depends on the next thing the goblin says.
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Does Faruq's count as "reasonably high perception"? I currently have some catching up to do, but it might be important to know. :smallbiggrin:
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
The reactions to Faruq's words were as varied as the kindred gathered themselves. Most, however, were curious on what the Prince would do.
As Jean's right hand remained outstretched, his left rubbed his chin. "Yes, you are confused, of that there is no doubt. No, it's not my job to answer your questions. Come to me in five years if you manage to survive, I'll be happy to dine and chat with you. Until then, I'm not particularly interested. Now fledgling, be a gentleman and allow the poor young lady standing over there to have her trial. It would be cruel to make her wait any longer."
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Huh. Faruq wasn't particularly sure he liked the implications of that phrasing. Namely, that there was any doubt as to whether or not he would survive five years, and that all of these "vampires" were as dismissive and full of themselves as Melanie. But he was getting ahead of himself, and thereby well into the kind of mood in which every little thing grows a thousandfold in severity and annoys one most horribly. Quelling a suddenly emerging multitude of outbursts that may or may not have involved him calling the Prince a "glorified, uppity road-bump on stilts" in Arabic before they left his mouth, forcing his rage to calm down with a desperate effort of self-control, he heaved a last sigh, as well-aware of the various, varied reactions around him as he would get, kissed the outstretched hand with all the controlled calm and dignity of an upstanding Arabic drug-dealer kissing the hand of something that offered to dine with him years from now despite looking like it had, in turn, already been digested centuries ago, and uttered: "Of course, yer Majesty. It shall thus be" Almighty One, give me the strength. "a pleasure and a privilege" And the confidence. "to prove my worth" And the force of will. "and honor the traditions" And the insight. "to the best of my ability." And damn it all, a peppermint and something for that smell, I mean, like, holy balls, whatever did they douse the guy in? Toilet paper not a thing when you're the living dea- Wait. Is it, actually?
And having delivered his spiel, far as he knew with a perfect impression of breeding and etiquette, he stepped back, still smiling and the picture of submission and respect, but now entertaining some interesting notions on the points he had intended to make, his questions, the functionality of the average vampire's digestive tract, the implications of a five-year-wait slapped onto a "maybe", and this obnoxious "trial" he was about to witness, there. "No further questions from me, so far, then. And ye're on for that thing in five years. But 'pol'gies for me interruptin', though." And some part of him still hoped to have Melanie cringing with his every word, and another suddenly felt like he had made a fool of himself, but a third commended his not-flying-off-the-handle there, whereas a fourth made further failsafe strategies up as the others went. "And I mean it. You got a business to run here, I can respect that. We cool?" He actually did mean that, Faruq noticed. Not the old goblin's fault he was already fed up with the way things would apparently simply continue to work from here on out, after all. But still. Eventually, he would have to lay down a piece of his mind. Eventually. Not now. Control, Faruq, control.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
The Prince gave Faruq a measured look. He then smiled. "Oh what I would do to be a fly on the wall when Melanie thanks Josef for his choice." His French accent deepened, and over half the kindred laughed. Melanie did not, though niether did she show anger at the comment as Josef showed, if only for a brief moment.
He clapped his hands together twice above his head as a gesture to lighten up the mood. "So it is, all of you are accepted into my city. For now you are fledglings, you are your sire's responsibility until they feel you are ready to be on your own, however as a mortal child is to a parent you will serve them and learn from them to the degree that they see fit."
He moved back to his chair.
"I believe before the trial, some introductions are in order. For those of you have not been told yet, we are members of the Camarilla, the largest, most organized group of kindred on the planet, and dare I say the one that is least harmful to humanity. Of the thirteen Clans, seven have allied to it. Sitting up here are the elders of each Clan.
"To the end is Hayden Cross, Primogen of Clan Brujah. Sadly she's lost a childer tonight. Then there is Rogan, Primogen of Clan Gangrel. We're not sure whether or not Gregor is older or not, but I suppose it's a moot point. Then is Josef Kirsch, primogen of Clan Ventrue, and former Seneschal to the last Prince. Behind my chair is Donovon, the new Seneschal, my right hand. She is of my Clan. Then there is Henry Sanderson, Primogen of Clan Tremere and my warmaster should war be decalred upon us. Sean Loveless of Clan Toreador who is also Keeper of Elysium, Elysium being the neutral ground we are free to interact and politic with one another freely. Last we have eldest, and only, member of Clan Malkavian, Cassidy. He also is our Scourge. The Scourge is the one who deals with those who come to my city unannounced, to deal with thin bloods if they step out of line. Cassidy?"
For the first time since entering, Cassidy took his eyes off Danielle. He blinked, also the first since they entered. "Hey."
"Yes, very good Cassidy. Now then, Danielle, is it? Please step forward. Al Rowe, our Sheriff, the one who enforces our laws shall ironically enough be defending you. After much debate and threats, Rogan, Primogen of Clan Gangrel will be the main prosecutor as it were. You have the floor Rogan."
Rogan smiled menacingly, and stood up.
Spoiler
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Bahaha! This was actually planned in advanced. I was so glad when I saw Claire try to comfot Danielle. What does she think of her sire now?
I'll give some time for reactions before Rogan begins his prosecution.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Settling into her chosen seat Claire finally paid serious attention to the proceedings. Her part was done, now if only the rest could hurry up. She felt herself shaking her head as Faruq spoke both times.
She had to wonder just what that demographic oddity was thinking. Though come to think of it she'd met his type before. Thought they were God's own gift to every woman in the room and couldn't come up with an intelligent thought to save their life. Sometimes she wondered what it must be like to be the center of the universe, well more then anywhere else at the same time but phrases rarely had much to do with science.
"Well the Court has its fool fitted for motley at least," She muttered under her breath, her controlled silence finally slipping a touch. Though only those nearest to her could possibly have heard the soft whisper. It was a almost shame really, she'd have loved to hear how an Arab with a Scottish accent had ended up in Washington. Didn't matter now though really. They were done at least. As the Prince introduced the Primogen Claire confirmed Sean Loveless' identity as apparently his real name, and wondered what Rogan had told him (if anything) about the events that had brought her here. The name Kirsch also rang a bell, wasn't that same name as on one of the bigger companies in town. He'd embraced the woman in the suit too, interesting.
Rogan being called up took Claire by surprise. She felt herself tense up, taking in an unnecessary breath and holding it. She forced herself to relax after a moment. Rogan had in a way been fair with her, honoring her final requests when he didn't have to. He'd been gentle with her even. And now she knew in full why Gary had ended up dead, the law their 'Masquerade' had obviously demanded it. And yet Rogan was cold too, he'd fed one of his own subordinates to her simply because she would need a meal. Charlie's blood was on her hands, but his to. And Gary, a friend someone she knew was dead just because he'd stumbled onto something he couldn't possibly guess at. Once again it was clear to her just how little she knew the man.
Damn it all. She could only hope Danielle could reign herself in. The girl didn't seem to be quite accept what was happening to her judging by some of the things she'd said. Maybe no one had done the clearly impossible in front of her like Rogan had to her. Though not Mc'Arab's tongue she'd shown some insolence. What was it Rogan had said about Victor and why he'd preferred her. Survival instinct. Claire had faced up to what was going on and taken the only thing that would keep her going. She'd submitted to the superior force for her own survival. If the girl wasn't willing to do something similar... Claire feared for the teen all over. Damn it all.
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Re: Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open
Danielle moved forward sharply when indicated to do so, her anger still present and growing hard and cold like ice as time passed, she had a feeling of gratitude for the prince when he had not stalled this farce for whatever curiosity the Arabic man had.
So Al was the law enforcer, and in fairness had enforced the law to the letter, report new vampires in the city and don't destroy them unless you have permission, and the man studying her was the person tasked with destroying her, and her accuser was one of those that had been unhappy with her speaking earlier, fine.
She wanted to smile back at the man's grin, but after holding his gaze for a brief instant could not bring herself to do it, she could however save Al a bit of hassle in her night, she faced the prince her voice crisp and clear "Apologies for speaking out of turn, however as I indicated to your Seneschal earlier I would not wish to cause Al Rowe", the name was said with a hint of earned respect, "any additional issue. Your society seems to make use of collective blame to an extent that any association with a criminal element could likely be deemed a negative, she has followed your laws as I understand them while showing me" respect, no that wasn't quite right "courtesy, and as such I would not wish to personally impose further on her to her detriment", she finished with an nod of apology for the interruption, directed at the prince.
I will likely die a second time tonight, considering the bodies likely painfully as a lesson to the new approved vampires, but if so I will die standing up for myself and not hiding like a child, her face was impassive but her mind was set.