Deathknell Chronicles IC, Chapter 1: Eyes Open

[Thundercracker]

Erica
The memories of countless ambushes and beatings came flooding back.

At least now I can actually learn to fight back.

"Whatever it takes to improve," Erica said, "I took so many one-sided beatings in high school, and I could never fight back because I was on probation."

It took a few tries, but Erica was soon able to heal the bruises with but a thought. The burn on her arm, though, remained.

She nodded when Melanie mentioned Faruq.

"He did make a mess of things," Erica said, "what's going to happen to him; is he still going to be part of the team?"

Later on, if there is a brief respite (perhaps when Erica is drinking/healing).

"Melanie, I have a question...," she said, "what did you tell your parents?"

[Strawberries]

Amy

Amy is thankful for the sunglasses that are the only thing probably concealing her expression at the moment. You smooth bastard she thinks with a hint of admiration. Real estate and renovation, really.

She doesn't mimic Mike's greeting, but gives a polite nod instead, keeping her mouth wisely shut. She has no idea how to behave in a situstion like this. However she suspects that 'mouth shut and eyes open' may be a good strategy.

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Perception+Alertness (or empathy, it's the same roll) (6d10)[39]

Also forgot to ask. Have I gained back some bloodpoint from the blood that I drank?

[Strawberries]

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Sorry,messed up the roll (6d10)[7][4][8][1][3][7](30)

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Rick grunted at Chase's little nickname, but offered no other opinion of it.

"Yeah, let's. You alright driving? I want to look over the info I have on the assignment." He gets in the jeep and opens the envelope, reading from it at last.

Assuming he gets through all the information before they reach the crime scene, he'll also take the chance to ask Chase a question.

"So, um...Quenton. Guy seems nice. Glad it was him who embraced me and not Venice." He gives a forced laugh.

"Just out of curiosity though, are you and Quenton an item?" Rick asked with characteristic bluntness.

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Just a note that Rick's taking his pistol with him to the scene if that's alright, an HK USP. It's doubtful he'll go anywhere without it for awhile.

[Worlok]

Faruq

"Huh." For a moment, that was really all that Faruq could think of: 'Huh'. But he got over that last bit of information soon enough - even though the impression of fear that one word had evoked lingered on: "So, you say that originally, we, I mean you, I mean Assamites, were basically, like, the vampire's vampires, did I get that right? And then the Tremere... Crap, man, there's like five, six, of those back there, way I been told and guessin'. They put a curse on us, yes? Like, a real one, magic 'n' stuff like that? That sure is good to know." And a good point in favor of being careful around their lot. "But say, this Diablerie thing... I'm not saying that right, am I? Die-a-blurry. Ah damn, well, works for me. Anyway, this Diablerie thing - They could technic'ly do... that? Ta us, I mean? Buddey won't, 'cos dere's laws on dat, where's you coul'n't do it ta one a' dem?" A lot of input to process, right there. The accent slurred again. "Say... Dere gotta be more clans 'n jus' the Cam 'n' us. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not plannin' on anything. Just kinda... They gotta have some enemies they haven't cursed away. I'm looking for some sorta... edge, I guess. Some sorta info they wouldn't expect the new guy to have."

Faruq shrugged. Flockton had been a great help once more, and while he likely wouldn't get rid of the myriad conundra which his brain was busied with anywhere in the near-to-immediate future, he felt like he would be able to work with what he was looking at. Still, it couldn't hurt to try: "'cos I figure, to get in after what went down las' night, I gotta find an angle to impress 'em with. How's this thing gonna go over, now it's been mentioned, like? I'll show up there, tonight, and try to buddy up with them from there on out? And what are you going to do now, after this? I know I'm basically like repeating myself here, and I'm really sorry, but see, this thing keeps confusin' me. If I could trouble ya for a favor... a real small 'n' inoffensive one, mind, nothin' big... If I am to go there again, tonight, and make... friends with 'em... could you maybe prepare me some notes telling me what there is to know about 'em? Like, what we know the Tremere can do, and the Ventrue, and what the Cam is all about, and what the politics look like, whatever you think could be useful, here, really. I'mma try 'n' find out, meself, but see, I think not trusting 'em too much can not exactly start too soon, y'know?"

[dancrilis]

She looked at him curiously as they walked back to the truck, was the disgust real or merely a show for her benefit, she believed Iris was when she had asked if she was a caitiff - though she had tried to cover it - but Flat Face seemed different like he would put on a show just to get at her.

"So three of us here, thirty or so kindred in the city, a thousand caitiff worldwide leaving us with maybe ten to twenty thousand kindred", pausing "that about right?".

She pondered letting herself find out on her own "Just so I am clear what are anarchs anyway" she may have the completely wrong idea after all word similarity was not necessary the way to go.

She paused outside the truck "can I drive, I need to get used to the body reactions so it might help me a bit", logical and truthful but the fact that it would allow her some small control tonight in one small thing was a plus, not to mention the safety angle for herself and others.

[daelrog]

Claire

She didn't have any more interruptions as she made it to her place. Fifth floor, overlooking part of the campus grounds below. She looks at the two pairs of large windows, making staying here impossible unless she boarded up the windows completely, something difficult to do secretly. She did have the bathrrom with only a small window.

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I'll let you fill in the details.

Erica

At first, Melanie seemed disappointed by how well Erica was handling it all. However, she began to warm up to Erica a little by the end of forty-five minutes. When asked of Faruq, she dislocated Erica's shoulder. "No. He's going to have to earn his way back into our graces." She relocated the shoulder back into place. "After a much longer conversation between Ahmad and Josef, it as decided that the child would do best with his old associate, a Brit named Charles Flockton. The two elders are hoping that Flockton can calm the boy's ego long enough for Ahmad and Josef to make the msot out of their new partnership."

The session ended and Melanie shrugged at Erica's other question. "Nothing really. Didn't speak much to them before I was embraced either. I think they're still in Cleveland somewhere if they're still alive." She stopped and ran some numbers in her head. "Actually, they probably are dead by now. Rest for a bit. Do some reading if you want. I think Byron will be coming next."

Amy

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Yes, you get a blood point back.

It was hard to see too much in the light, but she quickly saw that no one had a weapon in the room, at least none that she could see. It was the man at the desk on the far side which scared her the worst. He was one of the Russians, but it was likely he was the boss here.

"Mike, why do you bring this hideous girl to my establishment?" The man's voice was deep and raspy. "I told you Mike, I only want beautiful flowers, otherwise the customers will go somewhere else."

"You just stay away from our girls, commie freak." One of the skinheads edged forward in his seat, staring at the Russian mobster.

"Your mothers and sisters are inbred like you. No, such is no good for business either."

It was a different skinhead this time who spoke, or yelled more like. "Why the hell are we hear Mike?! I don't need no red insulting my sister like that! If the Russians want our plot of land, they can take it over our cold, dead bodies!"

"Yes, Mike. Mr. Wild West here makes a point. I am more than happy to kill them for it. Why are we having this meeting?"

Mike sat down, all business. "Simple. You two going to war isn't good business for my employers. It's why my group is willing to loan two million for the land, the loan to repaid within three years, no interest, though inflation will be taken into account."

There was silence in the room. Amy could see that the skinheads were surprised by the sum. The Russian boss was not. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "There is always interest. You want connections to my business in exchange for handling this problem."

"As you say, comrade."

The man leaned back in his chair. "You. Girl. What do you think? Should I take your boyfriend's offer? Can I trust him?"

Rick

Chase had no issue with driving, and seemed to revel in it.

The ghoul's name was Benjamin Tallfellow, also known as Benny. He was first ghouled in the 1940s by a Tremere named Arvan Staltworth, who met final death in 1957 from an attack by a group called the Sabbat. Benny was transferred to the "New World" and seemed to make his way across from chantry to chantry until making his way to Havensworth in 1987. His roles included basic maintenance and custodial work, as well taking care of paperwork on the mortal side of things.

His only known hobby was badminton, a small note about him complaining for a lack of badminton in the city, but overall there was little esle. The man lived at the chantry at the beck and call of the Tremere. Last night, he was set to rendevous with a Mr. Cavet where he was killed. Details of how he died were not included.

Chase focused on Rick for a brief moment before turned back to the road. "It's... complicated Rick." She sighed, realizing it wasn't much of an answer. "We were an item when we first met. When I was still aging normally and he... well, he was pretty much the same old Quenton."

Rick could tell there was a lot going through her mind. "Rick, there's something you need to know, something called a blood bond. If you drink a kindred's blood three times, you will be attached to them, you'll feel a strong pull like love, only it isn't. Henry made you drink a special vial of blood last night, didn't he? That was the blood of the ruling council of Tremere, back in Europe. All Tremere are one step towards being bound. If you step out of line, they'll offer you a second vial. If after that... well, they'll force it down your throat the last time.

"That means ghouls too, Rick. We stopped being an item when I found him giving some other woman a hicky, only a week later when he came to explain himself, I found out it wasn't a hicky he was giving her. Since he spilled the beans, I had to either get embraced myself, or get found in a gutter. After some prodding I found a third option." The car rolled to a stop, they had made it to their destination. "I'm bound to him, Rick. That's all."

The place they were at was a fairly large house that seemed out of place. The houses around were old, and rustic in comparison. There was no police tape, and no one seemed home.

Faruq

"You want an edge Faruq?" Flockton pointed an accusing finger at him. "Realize that you don't have an edge. Josef Kirsch? Whatever edge you might have gained against him was lost when he chose some modern financial prodigy as his new childe. Whatever he may not know about the modern world, she does. I don't know about the other four, but other than the Caitiff, assume that each of the new kindred just filled in a gap to their Clan's power base. Assume that your enemy is always five steps ahead, always, and you might have a chance against them." He grunted. Charles Flockton was a blunt man, no doubt having to explain all these things in detail was unnatural.

"There's thirteen Clans. Seven are mainly with the Camarilla. Two are with the Sabbat. The Sabbat is the Camarilla's main enemy. Damn vicious lot. They're no worse than the Camarilla, except they revel in their damnation, and are open about it. The other four, including us, are independent. We have our own agendas."

He sat down. "You'll have your list when I have the time, but first you need to show you can keep it cool. Think real hard about what you want to do about yourself. As for Clan Assamite being the vampires of vampires..." he chuckled "... no. It was merely a facade we put up, and the other Clans believed it. Even the best lies don't live forever though." His smiled faded, and he looked past Faruq. When Faruq turned around, he could see one of the kindred form the night before, the red-haired woman, one of the gaggle that had laughed when he had his togue cut out.

Danielle

"Only one who I let drive my truck besides me is Slick, and you're not Slick." He moved to the driver's seat. They sped off again.

"About 40,000 of us. Don't treat Havensworth like it's a representation of the whole world. Most Camarilla cities don't tolerate one. Most of your lot falls in with the Anarchs, or becomes the first wave of a Sabbat attack." He spit out the window at the thought of the latter example. "Anarchs are pretty much the same for kindred as they are to kine. Buncha idiots all about bringing down the establishment without the will to actually pull the trigger. They don't like that the Elders call the shots, so they form their own little communities where they pretend they're in charge. Awhile back most of California fell to the Anarchs, only place in the world they hold real sway if you asked me. At the same time about a dozen came up here thinking to do the same. Not one of them made it out."

The drive took them to the other side of town, at an old bar that looked like it had been closed down.

"Hey you lot! This is a raid!"

Danielle could hear a gun load.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica grimaced in pain as her shoulder popped out. It was an unfamiliar sensation; she'd never sustained a serious injury like that before. Just for a moment, all she wanted to do was attack Melanie in retaliation, but she fought down the urge.

Only two out of six survived, and Melanie's not that old, you can learn a lot from her.

It was the same: fight, get beaten, heal, drink when thirsty, fight again... Erica felt it was easier to tolerate the pain as the session went on, perhaps because she knew the wounds were so impermanent. It also drove home how dangerous flames were, not that they were any less dangerous than before. Idly she wondered if deadening her sense of pain also deadened her to the intuition that kept the monster inside at bay, but she pushed the thought aside. Better to focus on the task at hand, and deal with problems as they arise.

No sweating, another perk of being dead.

"That seems very strange to me," Erica said, "from what I understand, Ahmad killed Weinmann, who was Josef's close friend, and now they're working together?"
Erica shook her head.
"Seems there's a lot to learn," she added.

As they were wrapping up, she hesitated for a moment, but then gave voice to her thoughts.
"Hey, Melanie... thanks, I'll try not to be such a pushover next time... umm, let me know if there's anything I can do to help out with anything, or if I do something stupid? I'm just trying to figure out... how all this.." she gestured widely, "works."

She smiled.

Once Melanie leaves, Erica will take her suggestion and begin reading through the history book until interrupted.

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I'm assuming there's enough blood to be full up again?

[dancrilis]

But not Mike, she heard it through the absence ... curious, "Why Slick and no one else", considering "and for that matter why drive illegally if you want to keep the truck, you are clearly a solid enough driver to make do without attracting attention" she asked on the ride.

So he had her take on anarchy then style no substance, that was good but she would have to meet them herself to confirm.

Considering, "so if I have to leave Havensworth I could do worse then head for California?", nodding "good to know, thanks".

At the sound of the gun she moved her head down, she would follow Flat Face if he left the truck, but she had no interest in getting shot.

[Strawberries]

Amy

You’re not a freshly plucked rose, either, she thinks when the important-looking one comments on her appearance, but she’s not that stupid to say it out loud. Instead, she sits besides Mike and tries her best to follow her own advice to herself, observing without speaking. So, apparently, that’s what Mike does: keeps contacts and acts as a mediator with the criminal life of the town. ‘Why’ would probably be a good question. ‘How’ isn’t a bad one, either. She can’t help but notice that both factions seem familiar and somehow at ease around him. Huh. But then again, Mike is charming, when he puts himself to it: he had fooled her well enough, after all.

Her trail of thoughts is interrupted when she’s asked a direct question, and all the people in the room focus on her. Crap. Friggin' hell. Apparently, ‘eyes open and mouth shut’ is not the way to go anymore. For the first time, Amy is grateful that she is dead: at least, she doesn’t have an heartbeat anymore, which means she isn’t blushing or sweating. Now, if she could manage to answer without stammering, she could almost pass for self-assured. And answer what, anyway? ‘I trust him, but I’m not sure why and I may not be the best person to ask’ seems somehow inadequate, and she is too nervous to think of anything else.

Suddenly, she realises something. I have a secret. Given the whole emphasis on the ‘masquerade’ bit, Amy doubts that those people know what her and Mike really are. Strangely enough, the thought helps calming her. I know something that you don't. I’m ahead of you. With the calm comes the answer, and she starts speaking.

"And you think I would tell you that you can't trust him...why, exactly? You must think I'm an idiot, besides being ugly.” She smiles at him, putting her sunglasses down to stare at him. “That's not the right question you should ask, anyway. The question is 'can I afford to not trust him?' You start a war, start killing people, someone is going to notice. And if you worry about me being bad for business, think about the effect a dozen of cops going around and asking questions will have.” The temptation to turn around and look at Mike to see from his expression if she has screwed up things monumentally is strong, but she manages to resist, and instead keeps eye-contact with the man and shrugs “Seems a pretty good proposition to me. I’d take it, but hey. Your business, your choice.”

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

This Benny fellow seems pretty unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Odd then that he would be targeted. Maybe this 'Mr. Cavet' would know more. Seemed like the best option at the moment was to find out more about him.

He feels a pang of sympathy for Chase as she talks about her past. Quenton seemed like a fairly easy going boss, but it was hard to escape the fact that Chase was now forced to love him, maybe against her own will. Without the blood, would she even be willing to serve the Tremere? It was a fate Rick was not inclined to share. There would be no second drink for him if he could help it.

"I'm uh... I'm sorry." He muttered, resisting the urge to touch her. He distracts himself by getting out of the car and looking around.

"This where Benny died? Did you know him well?" He asks his companion, eager to distract her.

The detective scopes out the place, looking for an unlocked door or window he could gain access through.

[Worlok]

"Alright, okay, thanks. Assume they're ahead, always make like they're gonna pull somethin', but don't pull anythin' 'fore I'm sure they're not, head down keeps ya head up where ya wan' it. Understood. I'm soundin' kinda tryhard here, though, right? Like, y'know, ain't gotta tell me nothin' you don' wanna tell me 'bout. 't's cool." He nodded, signaling his understanding, and already it got his mind moving in odd directions again: Well, awright then, dem's some real crappy odds. I wonder whether I can do -six- steps ahead? Sounds like I'm gonna have ta, anyhow...

Wait.

WaitwaitwaitwaitWAIT!

Of course!

Oh, Charles, I almost wou'n't have caught that, there. Sounds like a plan. Good man.

But what was that about those other guys just there? "The Camarilla's enemies". And the enemy of my enemy... Okay. There are options. There are alternatives. I know things now, so I'mma not go float it. I'mma do this, do as he says, go full native here. No big deal. Shoul'n't be, at that. Still though... Two a' dese "clans" 'gainst seven, 'n' from how old these people claim they are, they've kept it going strong, no bother. And he's quite right there, you'd have to actually be really good at being bad at things before you could be worse... regardless. This is good.

These "Sabbat" sounded interesting, to say the least, respectable after a fashion, if not for that, then for the fact that at least they were honest about what they were by the sound of it. And getting the appellation "vicious lot" from someone like Charles Flockton... He sure would have to take a closer look on that. I mean, shi-! Funny how I pulled that Mossad stunt back when, there, then. Different kind a' beast, maybe, but still... The -Sabbath- Holocaust Enactment Day, and the -Sabbat- are plannin' on the version I would actually like to see. He allowed himself to respond to Charles' chuckle in kind, and added: "Really. Understood. And I'll keep that in mind." Should still wanna check the books on that. This is input. All input is always good. And I'mma get my list. I think that about evens out the Domination, then. His smile, however, faded just as Flockton's did, and what he had intended to add beyond the previous utterance went under somewhere through the act of just turning his head around. Someone's here. I don't like that look on him, 'n' the hairs on ma neck be standin' up. I'mma better be prepared- Yet what he saw still surprised him to no small extent.

"... aaawright?" They'd probably want him to not talk here. But he sure wondered what the meaning of this would turn out to be.

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire

It had only been a day but it felt like much longer. Her apartment was almost distressingly the same. She was standing in the small kitchenette right by the door. There were the dishes she'd cleaned still in the rack. Her living room was still crammed into half the space, cheap loveseat and small television set with a Ninetendo and old Atari underneath. She past through it without a thought into her workshop. It was just as cluttered with parts as she'd left it, her rig in the corner desk, a small table with a rubber pad she used to work on parts, the wire shelves and plastic bins filled with assorted parts she'd collected for fun. Here Claire stopped to let out a sigh. When she'd last been here she thought Gary was alive, she'd been alive. Looking out the window over her little workbench it hit.

Damn it all to hell what was she doing? She should be running. Run home, drive all night to upstate and have her parents hug her and tell her it was all a bad dream and everything would be alright. The sobbing took her before she could stop it. She put a hand to her face, wiping away the few tears managing to leak out her eyes. Too few, like they were running dry. Her skin was cool and clammy, there was dirt. Her body's omnipresent numb sensation, the confining feeling of her filthy clothes. The missing nail on her hand, how had she let that slip her mind.

"Think Claire, don't loose control," she said outloud, "You need to keep moving, stop and you'll freeze dead. Get a shower and try some food. Nothing says vamps only drink blood right?"

That was a good plan. Claire tore at her clothes and stuffed them into the nearest trash bin. She wouldn't wear that set again. Now absurdly more comfortable she went through her bedroom into the shower.

It seemed some pleasures held steady. The warm water was pleasant and relaxing. Maybe not as relaxing but good all the same. Washing away the dirt and salt was cleansing. The hot water maybe even managed to warm her body a touch. At any rate when she stepped back out of the shower she felt much better. Wiping the fog from the mirror Claire spent some moments examining herself in the mirror. There was one myth busted. It seemed death, or she supposed undeath wasn't too terrible on the looks. Her skin was a few shade paler true, and everything seemed a touch firmer, not like she'd gained muscle just that the little bit of fat had been smoothed over. Her missing nail was just gone. It was a strange sight, no scabing or puffyness from healing, just that the flesh had closed up without fuss. That wasn't coming back, she'd need to get a fake one for sure.

Remembering the clock was ticking she toweled dry and pulled out her blow dryer. Drying her dark brown hair and pulling it back into a simple ponytail Claire decided the night wouldn't need make up. Coming out of the bathroom Claire passed her wardrobe by and grabbed her alarm clock. She set it to give her enough time to let her meet Rogan on time. Then she went to the wardrobe.

A few minutes of experimentation and a quick check of measurements later and Claire realized something. She no longer cared about clothing. It was all just too confining, to restricting. She'd not find an outfit she could wear without that constant tickle of irritation. Why had she never realized while alive just how stupid clothes were? Well society would demand it so she'd need something, but she'd put that off for as long as she could. Throwing a simple ensemble on the bed Claire returned to the living room and sat down in the office chair in front of her rig.

She pulled her spare pair of glasses out from their resting place by the monitor. She really should retrieve her car tonight. Putting them on was comfortable, of course glasses were a tool not empty social frippery. Shame becoming a blood sucking creature of the night hadn't fixed her eyes. Well not like she was actually blind without them, just a little fuzzy. Powering on her rig and lazily typing in the commands to get her machine to start properly Claire grabbed a notepad to jot some things down while the OS booted up.

Priorities. She had quite a number of things she needed to work on. There was her degree still just shy of completion, Rogan, Rogan's money, the rest of the vampires, that damn monster from outside. And longer term concerns, what to do for money, living space, what if anything she could tell her parents. And how would she make this apartment safe for her now, the main room and bedroom both had windows. Even her bathroom did. She didn't like the thought of stuffing herself into a closet. All things to do and with less time to do them in.

The last she put off. Now that she had cleaned up she could just barely bear the thought of spending the day at Victor's place again. She needed to work on the most immediate problem: Rogan's money. Two things there, she needed to start finding a place to put money, and just what she was dealing with. Well the first was more complicated but easier to start. Bring her rig fully up Claire fired the modem. While hit or miss you could find out all sorts of things on Usenet, and a few bulletin boards catered to almost anything. It would give her a start. Money was increasingly electronic, and banks were one of the great symbols of the man. That made them something her crowd probably knew a fair bit about. Probably even where there was one that might not ask many questions and was highly private. Firing up some of her less used psuedonyms Claire put the query out there:

<Okay, so I want lets say I want to keep some money real quite. Or find someones money being kept real quiet. What are some real banks that don't ask too many questions?>

There that should get thing started, and the timing was right. Most netizens were young, most were in college or like her, most stay up late at night.

Claire briefly considered going to some of her closer allies, but that would take time she probably didn't have. That circle of friends, as not a group as they could be without being a group. No real names, no name for everyone, just a few private corners of the net to hide out in. She'd been considering inviting Gary into that circle before he'd disappeared. Poor guy had been getting good enough to do some real fun dives, before his little project had turn against him. Well it was done.

The feelers out Claire spent the rest of the time looking at Gary's and now her project. She'd poked at the info before but not in any depth. Now she needed to see just what she was dealing with exactly. Rogan was sure to ask before long, and Claire had judged that her first priority. Besides something in there might be important.

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Okay lot of text only two big actions:

-Put out feelers for where she could hide some money. Not using her little allies just yet.

-Look at Rogan (and Sean's data) under the assumption that she's already hacked this so doesn't need to again to get the data back up.

[daelrog]

Erica

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Yes. So long as you are in Werner and Kirsch's, Erika will find it easy to find blood. Four dots of mentor and being a Ventrue makes feeing much easier, at least for now...

Melanie smiled at Erika genuinely. her normally formal manner dropped a bit. "Love, most supernaturals hate each other. The question is which ones do you want to make nice with and help you kill those you don't."

She put her suit back on, and headed for the door. "You'll figure it all out soon enough. Just don't trust anyone."

It took twenty minutes for Byron to show up. In that time, Erika saw that the Camarill began in the 1400s when seven elders, one from each of the Clans that made up the Primogens and Prince of this city, had formed an alliance. The names of those elders was not mentioned save for one, Hardestadt of Clan Venture.

"Forgive my lateness, Ms. Lee. Bit of trouble with the last client." He readjusted his cufflinks. I'm to discuss with you the current situation with our business, and also be available for any questions you have on ghouls."

Danielle

"I drive how I want, that's why, and Slick's my buddy, you're not."

He only chuckled when she mentioned California.

When they arrive, and could hear the gun loading, Flat Face paid no mind, and walked straight up to the bar door. He grabbed the handle and began to pull it. A shotgun fired, shot going through the door and into the Nosferatu bruiser. Flat Face toppled over backwards, and for a few seconds he did not move. Then he spat out blood. "That's just great. Now I'm going to need to feed again. Hope you bastards have a fresh kine in there, or I'll be drinking from you!"

"Hell do you want Flat Face!" The voice was angry and deep.

"I'm just showing the new Clanless around. FIgure she ought to see the only two kindred she has better standing than."

"What horse**** is this? Was it Desmund?"

"Nah, it was the kid. Jackal Nine-blades carved him up good. This young thing out here is probably next. Want to take a look at her before she's cut into pieces."

"Sure." It was a different voice this time.

Flat Face slowly rolled to his feet, and walked into the door, without gesturing or saying anything to Danielle.

Amy

"You see Mike, this is why I don't bring women with me. They talk and talk and talk, and then they get to the point. Yes woman, my business, my choice. I like that." He leaned back in thought, though he kept his eyes on Amy. "Fine. You give them money, Mike. They find new piece of heaven. I don't send fifty men to burn them out. How much time is needed?"

"I can have the money ready in three days."

They boht looked to one of the white supremacists. "It'll take us a couple weeks to get packed. Two weeks after we get our money."

"Your money, as you say." Mike nodded.

"Let's go boys."

The Americans started filing out of the room, followed by msot of the Russians, all save for the man at the table, and one skeletally thin man at his side.

"You're still going to kill them, aren't you?" Mike asked his question casually.

The man shrugged. "Have not decided yet." He sighed, and leaned forward. "So how old is this one?"

Rick

Chase shrugged. "Benny was kind of a dull guy. Not a lot of ambition. Honestly, don't think he probably minded dying so much. Apparently it was quick." She stepped out of the car, and walked to the front door, knocking on it.

There was no answer. "Odd, there was supposed to be someone there. Huh." She looked at Rick. "Well, guess we could break in or try to find Cavet. I think that guy is usually around the docks. Few bars over there he frequents."

Faruq

The woman smiled aggressively and walked towards them. Flockton's scowl deepened as the workers began to slow down, watching her hips moving side to side. "Well hello there Flockton. I don't remember the last time we met."

"We haven't. Sasha."

"Oh and what a pity." She placed a delicate hand on Flockton's shoulder. "May I borrow the boy for the night."

"I'm not his keeper, degenerate."

She laughed, amiably. "Is that so? Well, he certainly needs someone to help him along, and I heard poor, dear Melanie was not mentoring her own childer. Since you're not, I'm sure Sean would be happy to take Faruq under his wing." Her eyes caught Faruq's and those eyes were smiling. "What do you say? Would you like to talk to the Prince's most cunning rival."

Flockton snorted. "Last I heard Josef and Henry were competing for that title."

"It shows how little Clan Assamite knows any more."

Claire

Without going to those she knew, it was going to take some time to get some good answers. The two responses within ten mintues were less than helpful. One from someone who wanted more details. Drug money? Avoiding taxes? She could tell immeidately that the person had no ideas, just trying to sound smart. The other person suggested any bank, they're all corrupt.

Rogan's bank account had some 200 grand and some change. It had been inactive for a few years. Other than that, there was not much to it except for how long it had been open, and how it hadn't changed names.

Sean's was much more interesting. It had about 13 million dollars. That account was active though, with all sorts of payments for things mostly labelled with things that were either French or German. The only change of names, was adding on Sasha Loveless as a secondary holder about forty years ago.

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica looked up from the book, but remained sitting crosslegged on the chair and motioned for Byron to take a seat opposite her.

"Hi Byron, don't worry about it, I'm beginning to think I could use a little extra time," Erica replied.

She smiled.

"Sorry, ghouls?" she asked, sliding her planner over and flipping through the pages, "I don't think anyone's mentioned that yet."

[Soras Teva Gee]

Claire

Her fingers kept a steady rhythm on the desk as Claire studied the accounts. Rogan's account was quite modest all considered. Almost a shame he'd not done more with his money. More active management would have made it a much nicer sum. Perhaps he had other accounts around? No that didn't scan well, active management would show some activity. Still in absolute terms, well it wasn't entirely unnoticeable, especially if she moved it all at once.

The Loveless account was far more interesting now. She'd had enough grounding in economics to know the sort of money thrown around by businesses and governments, but for one man's personal holdings that was quite a lot of cash. What did Loveless do to bring himself such wealth? The amounts and names didn't tell her very much though. Lots of foreign sounding names though. Something more to research then. And she didn't recall a Sasha being introduced the previous evening, what was their relationship? A biological child wouldn't make sense only four decades back if the Primogen were all of Rogan's age. Or a child like she was to Rogan now then. More pieces to the puzzle.

As she silently withdrew Clair kept a copy of the data backed up in a secure corner of her harddrive, and a quick copying job into her word processor gave her a list of names in the Loveless account. Cuing up a print job Claire finished by checking her posting while the inkjet chattered away. Nothing there yet. Well fishing required patience, she'd check again when she had more time.

Judging that there was nothing more to accomplish right now Claire logged off her connections shut down. Grabbing the print out of names and folding up she went to get dressed in. It was a whim and unlikely but maybe they'd mean something to Rogan. A few minutes later Claire exited her apartment heading for her meeting with Rogan. Barring no further delays she estimated she'd make it with plenty of time.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Well, that seemed to rule out a personal enemy within the chantry. Was Benny in the wrong place at the wrong time?

As Chase's knock went unanswered, Rick responded. "Who was supposed to be here?" He looks around before he answers. "Actually, I'd rather we have a look around first. Let's not alert Cavet until we know his role in this thing." He briefly scopes out the house, checking to see if there's any unlocked or open windows.

If there's not, the detective approaches Chase. "You have a spare hairpin or something? I'm going to try and pick the lock."

[Strawberries]

Amy

"I'm 23, and my name is Amy" Amy replies, in a slightly piqued tone Not "woman" or "girl" or whatever else you are thinking of calling me. And certainly not a 'this one' "Who am I speaking to?"

[Worlok]

Or how little they -let- others know about what they know. Feeling himself slowly settling into the mindset he would apparently have to cultivate, Faruq listened to the exchange, his grin returning, yes, broadening as he realised just what kind of situation he seemed to be looking at. A second start, in a way, and his "Being a vampire"-101 thrown in for free: This time around, he felt prepared, and Byron, Charles, yes, even Kirsch and Melanie - I still want to hate her... I still feel like liking her... Regardless, I swore an oath, no backing down there now. Why does it feel so hollow, though? - had added their share to his knowledge. Plan, grasp, and roadmap, and the list is coming, too. It's looking up for me.

He could make it yet, by making this, rather than yesternight, the first day of his afterlife - and the opportunity to get it all to work was currently standing in front of him with smiling eyes and hips that had him silently complimenting the good taste of those workers beyond the office door. Let's see. "Most cunning rival". Six steps ahead. Keyword "cunning", meaning "danger", and "don't piss 'em off" the new rule of my game... This is an opportunity. I simply gotta play it right. Having taken a moment after Sasha's last remark to send one last inquisitive glance Flockton's way, he figured this was a good point to speak, and he had, after all, been spoken to. Best be "best behavior" up in this for now.

"Please, Mister Flockton, Miss..." Not gonna drop his surname. Business now. Matter of principle, all information counts. Just sadly didn't catch her last name, though. "... I am afraid I did not catch your last name there, apologies - let us not argue at this point. There's always time for that." Short pause, gauging reactions, winning smile going full-force, while weighing the pros and con of standing up, deciding against it for the time being. "I'mma take liberties here and offer you a seat, unless you'd have me follow you instead?" Skirting that issue, getting it out of the way, pleasantries, protocol, acting the part. But not too formal, that would come out wrong. "Because as much as my colleague-" Let on professional attachment, personal remains personal, best keep the target priority down. "- has helped me overcome the gap left by my sire-" She will leave a gap for somebody, alright, if... less intentionally so. "- I must admit that you have me... interested, here." Not too excited, keep enthusiasm in disguise. Could be a test of loyalty. Or intentions. Or... something of the sort. "Though I must ask: Whom would I have the honor of speaking to, were it to come to that? And whom, precisely, do I have the pleasure of speaking to... currently?" And a last wink and... done. Now see what happens next.

Spoiler

Show

Caught mod-flak for long signature, hence information spoilered here: Will suffer from slow posting for a while, just FYI.

[dancrilis]

Danielle

So only Slick was trusted, hmm ... was that deliberate or not, then again in a sense who cared it wasn't that useful to her who he trusted she put the thought to the back of her mind.

She hit the ground when she heard the gun go off and Flat Face fall over, she remained still for a few seconds watching the lifeless body, had she been alive she knew that her body would have reacted differently but as it was she simply processed the information ... they had killed him and she needed to leave, she could worry about the rest later ... at least that was the thought until he spoke, still the same as if he barely noticed it as an injury more pressing then stubbing his thumb, that did cause an irrational shiver.

Still useful info on feeding, eating vampires was considered no more cannibalistic then eating humans ... she would have to ask about that and if there was anything specifically to look out for, it could be useful if she found it difficult to bring herself to hurt innocent people.

And then after the threat the conversation turned normal again, they were defensive and Flat Face was not swayed by it and she was again reminded that her time was likely short.

She sighed a deliberate long sigh about the situation hoping far a brief moment that she simply dreaming or insane, but she knew she wasn't.

She stood slowly to make sure she was calm, dusted herself off and followed Flat Face inside slowly and cautiously.

[daelrog]

Erica

Byron sat down, showing a little concern at her question. "Really? I suppose there were other things going on last night." He scratched at a small bit of stubble which had grown since the previous evening. "A ghoul are generally the favored servants of kindred. We are mortal, but we drink the blood, or vitae as many call it, of kindred once a month, giving us some of the powers that kindred have. We don't age, we become more resilient. Sometimes we get the very basic disciplines of their masters.

"By ingesting vitae though, we become completely loyal. Some serve as soldiers, others as diplomats, in my case I serve Josef as his eyes and ears during the day, along with extra tasks he has. Last night I sat with three other ghouls in the back. There's Dennis and Mary, the man and the girl. Stay clear of them. They serve Cassidy, the Scourge. The two are deranged in their own ways, and though kindred are higher on the food chain than ghouls, a newly embraced kindred can still fall to a well trained ghoul. The other woman was Chase Punyavi. Watch out for that one too, she's damn smart, and the Tremere are our rivals for power. Not enemies mind you, but rivals. Other than those three and myself, not too many ghouls need worrying about.

"I think that about sums it up."

Claire

Claire only had to wait for a few minutes for Rogan. He came from the shadows, his yellow eyes almost glowing in the dark. "Early. Very good Claire." He sniffed the air and frowned deeply. Without saying anything he looked her over. "Although you outfit will do no good this night. Luckily I brought a few choices for you. He took off his backpack and dropped it to the ground in front of her. It was full of a few outfits meant for a night on the town.

"Yes, Claire. The wilds are barred to us for the most part. There are other creatures out there, creatures who do not care for our kind. So it is that we hunt in the cities. As you may have been wondering, no, we do not always kill our prey. In fact, it is generally a poor choice to do so. My former ghoul was nothing. No one will miss him, he was mine to give, and it's not every night there is a newly embraced kindre who needs to be fed.

"We will blend in with the kine, we will feed off of them, and they will be none the wiser."

Rick

"I had thought that Henry was going to use some contact in the police force to keep it open for us, but I guess he's just testing you out." She looked at amused at his request and handed him a hairpin, letting her hair fall down a bit.

Amy

Mike chimed in. "Evaz, this is Yuri Votslav. He runs the underground of the city."

Yuri nodded. "That is right. It makes me wonder why you kindred are so interested in a bunch of redneck yankee cowboys." He stared at Mike, and Amy could tell Mike was slightly uncomfortable even if he didn't show it. "That's right, Amy who is 23, I know of your kind. We first ran into one of you back in Russia. Some freak with black hair and pale skin told us we belonged to him. I shot him in the face. Turned out, he truely was a freak, killed five of us before we took him down, including my boss." He chuckled at the thought. "We chained the creature up, tortured it. Watched how it regrew limbs. Fed it rat blood to keep it going. Wasn't until it turned to ash in the sun that we realized what we were dealing with.

"We come to America years later and find out your kind is everywhere, like cockroaches, and that this city is run by the ugly cockroaches. Mike here has been good to us, though I see his fingers running deep into the city. Question is when is he going to make his move?"

"Yuri, you've said this before-"

Yuri held up a hand and Mike fell silent. "One of these days I may have a conversation with a priest. Confess my sins, tell him of the monsters of Havensworth. See how long it takes the crusaders to come with torches and crosses, eh? Get those nazis their money, and get them out of my sight, Mike." He looked at Amy. "You are smarter than your boyfriend, I can see these things. Try not to be too smart though."

Faruq

The woman smiled somewhere in between innocent and devious in a way that Faruq had never seen before. "Why, you have the pleasure of speaking to Sean Loveless, the gorgeous man you saw last night with the tattoos and gold teeth, and I am Sasha Loveless, his childer and soulmate." Flockton scoffed earning him a vicious look for Sasha, before she turned sweet again. "We are of the Clan Toreador, Clan of the Rose. Whereas all the Ventrue care about is power, we see the beauty in all things, including you Faruq. You are strong, you are proud. No doubt you have your own hopes and dreams, and whereas the Ventrue would have you live under their heels, we would see you grow and flourish. How does that sound?"

Danielle

She walked in to see it was a pretty run down joint, dusty, and only two poeple were in there. One was pale, fat, with dirty blonde hair that was rustled up. He was wearing a AC/DC t-shirt that didn't seem to work with the rest of his appearance. The other was a slightly younger man, hispanic, thin, with just a little bit of of a five o'clock shadow. He was handsome, and athletic, wearing only a wife beater, and blue jeans, sitting in a chair backwards, his legs straddling around the back of the chair.

Flat Face jerked his thumb back to Danielle. "This is Danielle. Forgot her last name. It's French." He pointed at the fat one, then the hispanic man. "That's Marshal Heyes, he's a Brujah, Anarch. We'd kill him if he was worth a damn. The other's Felix Marquez. Only half as worthless, and might have been a decent foot soldier if he wasn't Caitiff. Eh, Felix?"

Felix shrugged his soldiers and smiled, taking the insults in stride.

Marshal looked to Danielle, with a look of sympathy on his face. "Sorry you got stuck with this ******* for a mentor. Sorry to hear about the kid too. Damn shame."

[Thundercracker]

Erica
Erica's mouth dropped open slightly as Byron spoke, and an expression somewhat resembling nausea crossed her face.

"I... didn't even know that was an option," she said softly.

"So, you can still go to the beach in the summer, and eat whatever you want?" she asked, "And you don't get older either... how old are you?"

Erica nodded at Byron's response.

"Are there rules regarding... you guys?" she asked, not yet comfortable with the word 'ghoul', "like, can I feed someone my blood whenever I want? Doesn't that break the Masquerade?"

Later, Erica would ask about about Weinman and Kirsch, how many employees there were, which regions they covered, which sectors of investments, major investors, what she was expected to do, and where all the blood came from.

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

Rick stares at Chase a moment too long before he takes her hairpin.

"Thanks. Don't look at me like that! Just trust me. You learn a lot of things when you're out on the street. So watch and learn. " In truth, he's never had cause to really need to pick a lock before(Besides the one unfortunate instance where he had locked himself out of his apartment.) But she did not need to know that. Very slowly, he inserts the hairpin into the lock. He turns it carefully, searching for that click.

Spoiler

Show

Would that be Security/Larceny + Dexterity? In that case (5d6)[22]
Edit: Bah, see OOC thread.

[Strawberries]

Amy

So much for being ahead of him. Amy launches an hard, accusing stare at her sire. First tradition, right. What a load of bull. Somebody will have to explain her why that reporter and those poor sods at the party had to die, while a Russian criminal that has just admitted to have tortured and killed a kindred is regarded as someone to do busines with. Still, on anothet level, she must admit she is intrigued. Those are secrets and plots that she never dreamt of having access to, and it seems they are within easy reach. That's not a bad question. Why are we interested in the Nazis anyway? she can't help but wonder.

"Thank you for the advice" she says carefully. 'Don't be too smart' is just another way to say 'try to keep your mouth shut before you understand exactly how things work'. As far as advices go, she's had worse - not that she hadn't figured it out by herself. That's also the reason why she doesn't comment his half-threat, even if she would have plenty of things to counteract, starting with Good luck in finding a priest that'll believe you. Let Mike handle that, if he deems necessary: Amy is aware that this is probably a delicate balance she can only begin to guess.

[Worlok]

Faruq

Difficult, difficult. He doe'n't like her, and I really have no clue what this could have in store for me. But then, we're behind our lines, right in the lair of the Assamite, and it's not like I can't say 'No!' - Though that smile likely would make it difficult... He did not look at Flockton as he spoke, but maintained eye contact - "eye contact" - with Sasha, both to assure her of his attention, and to make sure she wasn't looking at his hand. For as he looked, he made a barely notable gesture meant to convey something along the lines of 'Don't worry, I got this' which he hoped the older man would catch, while replying in a tone downright oozing gentility: "Intriguing, and that every bit as much as the one saying it, yet I must ask, and certainly hope to not offend in this..." Brief pause. "... but there are some matters as yet unresolved, and it would mean to... 'publically'... change allegiance, at least in a way. Cou... would confidentiality be guaranteed?" He was in his element here, to a degree. Test the waters, make sure that his dealings would stay under wraps. They certainly couldn't fault the new guy for caution, or so he hoped.

[daelrog]

Erica

Byron looked at Erica with steady eyes. "It's an option, yes. However, for most ghouls the hope's to become kindred eventually. Yes, I can sit in the beach, but to be honest I haven't gone to one in years, and even that was for business." He looked around. "As for creating ghouls yourself, it usually won't break the masquerade. As I said, we become loyal whether we want to or not. I'm of the former kind, and have been for the past twelve years. Still, I'd take your time when selecting a ghoul. Each ghoul you have means more blood you have to relinquish. If you have too many ghouls, other kindred will see it as a threat to their safety and we seek to thin out your numbers. Also, ghouls from time to time tend to become competitive to an unhealthy level. We love our benefactors and sometimes ghouls will try go as far as kill each other so as not to share you. If you take a ghoul, make sure they're worthy of it, and make sure you'll be invested in them in the long run."

Byron then explained the situation, answering Erica's questions.

Erik Weinman was a kindred of over 600 years and of the sixth generation, who had taken part in the latter Crusades. It's where his rivalry with Clan Assamite began. Most kindred rose to power through talent and manipulation, but Weinman was an unusual case in that his rise was more on the talent part. It had been said his flaw was that he was too hands on, and it made him vulnerable. However, his downfall had nothing to do with strength, his flight was delayed until the sun's rays took him.

His death was the second of the four Ventrue who died, and it shook Havensworth to its core among kindred society.

Josef Kirsch was Weinman's friend and comrade for a long time. Though not directly descended by blood, the two found much in common. Josef served as Seneschal of the city until Weinman's death and the Nosferatu's rise to power. Whereas Erik was the raw power and charisma behind kindred power in the area, Josef was the thinker. Josef was the one who plotted and moved the pieces around, a game he easily played having Erik as an almost untouchable piece on the chessboard. Naturally, that's all changed.

There were approximately 1900 employees and contract workers left in Weinman and Kirsch. Their main headquarters was here in Havensworth. Their main branches were in Seattle, Port Angelas, Billings, Pheonix, Denver, Albuquerque, Lincoln, New York, Barcelona, Tel Aviv, and were getting ready to open a branch in Manila jointly with Assad's organization.

Most investment was in financing mid-level businesses, particularly construction and communication technologies. Although both were growing industries, they were also chosen for their use in Jyhad, the kindred's struggle for power.

Investors was a major problem now. Weinman had been their primary investor using his own mass wealth. With his death, and the difficulty of securing that money from his accounts in Switzerland had left them lacking. Other Ventrue who also were investors had also pulled out. The problem they were facing was that they could potentially find kine investors, but that would risk the masquerade. The other possibility was to search for other kindred, but there would be a steep price to pay.

That is where Erica came in. The company had downsized to two-thirds its size and was looking to downsize even further. Part of Erica's job was to search for the best channels to gain new investment both from a practical standpoint, and also taking into consideration the new rules she had to deal with. They needed to grow enough so that the Manila branch would flourish. There was much at stake there, but even Byron didn't know the full details. She had full authority to turn around the business.

As for the blood, it came from a large nubmer of employees. Byron admitted that if a human had been dominated enough, it generally stripped most of their will away. There were a few score of such individuals in the office who among their routine duties, also provided blood without question.

Rick

Chase's hairpin was made of strong stuff, and it only took Rick a couple tries to unlock the door. The two walked in to what seemed like an abandoned house. There was no police tape, or the usual marking for a murder scene. There was no body, but Rick found an chalk outline of one in the living room just off to the side from the main room.

No struggle, nothing broken. On the table near the chalk line was a letter.

It read:

I hate them all. May they burn in Hell forever.

Chase's pager beeped twice, and she started to read it. "Looks like the the coroner's report came in. Heart attack."

Amy

Mike gave a fake cough to break the tension in the air. "Well, as usual, good doing business with you Yuri."

"Yes. Always pleasure, Mike."

"Let's go, Evaz."

Mike stood up, and led Amy outside, a little faster than the pace they had walked in. They got in the car, and he started to drive, giving a low sigh when they were on their way. "Evaz, there's something you need to know about the world. Yes, we're monsters in that we're the living dead, in that we have to drink human blood to survive. However, we, like any other person, have a choice. Yuri's human through and through, but deep down inside he's the real monster.

"Still, we have to deal with him. He's got an iron grip on the underworld between Seattle and Portland, and we rely on the underworld to survive." He flashed a smile. "After all, we can't exactly play golf with high society on a Sunday afternoon."

Faruq

"Oooh, confidentiality," she cooed. "Sean does prefer to act with a bit of... flair, but I think he'll be tickled with the idea of keeping a secret. Yet, you have my word that it will be confidential."

"Your word's worth as much as my dog's stool, woman." Flockton shook his head. "Ain't no harm in hearing what the fat man wants to say. I've got work to do, and a few heads to crack. Excuse me."

Sasha didn't pay any more attention to Flockton, staring at Faruq with interested eyes. "Is it a date then?"

[Dark Seeker]

Rick

"See how easy that was?" Rick tells Chase, declining to mention the relief he felt when the door swung open.

When he finds it, Rick carefully reads the letter. He would guess Them referred to vampires, though it might refer to a specific clan or group.

As Chase reads the message he chuckles mirthlessly. "Heart attack. Right. I had my fair share of cases being labeled heart attacks when I was on the force. Always knew it was a cover-up. Never guessed it was to this extent though. Besides, don't you people, uh, ghouls stop aging? Seems strange he'd fall prey to a heart attack then." He muses.

"Hey, you familiar with Benny's handwriting?" if the ghoul replies in the affirmative, Rick shows her the note. "This look like it to you? Any idea what it means? Looks like the old Bennster might have had a grudge against his employers."

[dancrilis]

Danielle

She walked in cautiously, still worried about the shotgun and worried for Flat Face's requested meal also.
Looking around these two were certainly not living it up and dressed to convey that, still appearances can be deceiving.

"Nice to meet you" she nodded to both of them then indicated Flat Face "he isn't so bad, seems honest enough at any rate ... though I might be naive there" her gaze turned slightly harsher at the mention of her sire, "as for Billy can't saw I have much sympathy for the serial killing, abducting, creepy man-child that ruined and ended my life" her voice started calm and polite and retained hints of that but the level of disgust at the man in her tone was obvious by the end.

[Strawberries]

Amy

Amy says nothing else until her and Mike are alone again, but as soon as they are, she turns towards him "I'm not an idiot, Mike. You don't have to tell me he's more of a monster than us, I pretty much got that when he bragged about torturing someone like it was some sort of accomplisment. And till now, you are the only one that called yourself as a 'monster' anyway. I never said you were one." At least, she hopes Mike never bragged about torturing someone that way. "What did you want to show me, exactly, Mike? That we kill unarmed reporters that discover us, but we deal with russian mob because it's useful?"

[Thundercracker]

Erica
The young woman scribbled furiously as Byron spoke. This was what she had originally been approached for, and as the old habits returned, she felt almost normal again despite the extraordinary events of the past 36 hours.

The situation wasn't good. They had lost their chief financier, and other investors had lost confidence and were pulling their money. Then again, nobody ever made a name for themselves by joining a stable company and keeping it that way. She'd have to look into what had become of Weinmann's so-called vast wealth, whether it had been passed on to beneficiaries or was still being held by the Swiss banks. As for turning the business around, she already had several ideas she'd kept to herself to prevent her boss from claiming credit for them, and now was the time to put them to the test.

That reminds me, I need to resign.

Finally she placed her pen down on the table and looked up at Byron, studying his face and trying to gauge his emotions.

"Thanks for the advice," she said.
"Can I ask a personal question? Are you one of the..'ghouls' who wants to become kindred?" she asked.
(regardless of the answer)
A split-second after she asked, Erica realized she might have overstepped her bounds, and changed the topic immediately after Byron answered.
"So, what do you tell your family about not getting any older?" she asked.