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  1. Top - End - #31
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    Default 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.
    Last edited by Worlok; 2012-07-23 at 03:08 PM. Reason: The Drill.

  2. Top - End - #32
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    Default 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.

    "Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot" - N.Gaiman, The Sandman

  3. Top - End - #33
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    Default 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.

  4. Top - End - #34
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    Default 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.
    Last edited by Worlok; 2012-07-23 at 05:02 PM. Reason: Auld Lang Syne.

  5. Top - End - #35
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    Default 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.

  6. Top - End - #36
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    Default 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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  7. Top - End - #37
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    Default 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.

  8. Top - End - #38
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    Default 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

    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.

    "Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot" - N.Gaiman, The Sandman

  9. Top - End - #39
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    Default 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.

  10. Top - End - #40
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    Default 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.

  11. Top - End - #41
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    Default 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?"

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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.

  12. Top - End - #42
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    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.
    Last edited by Strawberries; 2012-07-24 at 05:07 AM.

    "Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot" - N.Gaiman, The Sandman

  13. Top - End - #43
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    Default 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.
    Last edited by Worlok; 2012-07-24 at 12:20 PM. Reason: Thoughts.

  14. Top - End - #44
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    Default 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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  15. Top - End - #45
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    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.
    Last edited by dancrilis; 2012-07-24 at 01:28 PM.

  16. Top - End - #46
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    Default 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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  17. Top - End - #47
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    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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  18. Top - End - #48
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    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.

  19. Top - End - #49
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    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.

  20. Top - End - #50
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    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.

  21. Top - End - #51
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    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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  22. Top - End - #52
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    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.

  23. Top - End - #53
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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.

  24. Top - End - #54
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    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.

    "Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot" - N.Gaiman, The Sandman

  25. Top - End - #55
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    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.
    Last edited by Worlok; 2012-07-25 at 08:21 PM. Reason: Goblins.

  26. Top - End - #56
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    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."

  27. Top - End - #57
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    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.
    Last edited by Worlok; 2012-07-25 at 09:22 PM. Reason: Getting a hold of oneself.

  28. Top - End - #58
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    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.

  29. Top - End - #59
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    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.

  30. Top - End - #60
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    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.

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