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Field Researcher
#901 Old 31st Dec 2008 at 1:11 AM
Default Archon DeWinter & Vevila van Roemer - Archon's mansion, Vevila's apartment
#67 [Thirteenth Night]

For a moment there, when Vevila bowed her head and placed a hand over her heart, Archon could feel a flash of the old days. Even though many vampires hailed from the ancient nights, too many of them had forgotten the ways of a time when proper respect was paid with elegance and honor. It was vivid in the eyes of those who knew their place. Immortality alone did not change the staus between vampires, though some would be foolish enough to make that mistake. Therefore, it was refreshing to see that a fairly young Kindred showed reverence for something she could not know for real. Vevila would have adapted herself perfectly to the Old World, from which Archon came. He might be a statue left behind from a glorious time covered in darkness, but there was still life in the old one yet. If he doubted that for a second, he needed only to look into her eyes and feel that the years had not passed him by.

"I am indebted to you for your kindness, Lord DeWinter", Vevila spoke, lowering her hand from her heart. "I truly cannot thank you enough for all that you're doing for me. I will be so thrilled to be able to play for you sooner, rather than later."

Since she agreed to stay, Archon could let go if this strange notion he had, to keep her in his care one more night. Surely, she might not be out of danger, but her own clan was most capable to take her under their wings. Though neither she nor he had mentioned that option, Archon had thought of it. After all, he was used to cover all angles when presented with a problem or anything that needed attention. The Toreador were not mere artists. Though they could be mistaken for dreaming fools, Archon would never underestimate them. He had fought alongside the best of them, watched prominent members show great valour when defending the Kindred and the Masquerade. He knew what laid behind their creativity. Besides that, a great man would never fall for a fool.

"If I'm going to stay here another evening", Vevila continued. "I would like to run back to my apartment to grab a few things. I know that will be a great inconvenience... But I appreciate your offer. I won't make you come with me, if you'd rather send someone else to accompany me. I understand that you must be a very busy man and I've been keeping you from your obligations."

The obligations of a Primogen never rested, not in Archon's case. No one could keep him from them without his say so, or the strange occurrence of no one contacting him. He did not believe in fate, he made his own destiny. Therefore, he did not find the silence around them any more strange than the other rare occasions when the night had began just like this one. With the exception of this being the first one featuring a Toreador of bewildered beauty.

"I am often busy", Archon replied in accord. "Though I do surround myself with capable Kindred. I neither can nor have to be in every place personally. I will accompany you to your apartment, if you have not grown tired of me already."

The latter he uttered with a brief smile, but it was not a joke entirely - nor was it self pity. The Ventrue Primogen never felt sorry for himself, he merely accepted things as they were, if he could not or did not want to change them. He was aware of the effect he had on some Kindred; they could perceive him as an arrogant and cold hearted Ventrue that did nothing without personal gain. Oh well. The last part was always true. Archon did not believe in altruism - egoism was rooted at the human and inhuman core; unchallenged. It could be mistaken for unselfishness, but it was only a clever disguise, determined by how the recipient reacted.

Then the silence was broken. Not by the phone, but by Roe; which Archon prefered. The Gangrel always approached him with ease. He was calm, seldom agitated, and if he ever was it was a sure sign to run for cover. When he joined them, he did not come through a door, he simply appeared by their side. Seemingly out of nowhere; a Gangrel trait Archon appreciated when it was to his benefit.

"Forgive me the interruption, my Lord", Roe said. "O'Toole wants directions. He hesitates to contact you directly."

Now, giving away names, any details that would reveal what the Primogen was up to or who he associated with, was something you just did not do. Therefore, the name Roe mentioned naturally meant nothing. It could be the real name of the man he spoke of, and it did not matter, or it could be a diversion. Roe never slipped, he would defend his master with his life, and as time passed he began to pick up Ventrue characteristics. Like the one where he always thought before he spoke, no matter how simple the message was.

"He should", Archon said, now lacking any sympathetic streak he might have shown just seconds earlier.

While Roe made arrangements to have the car ready infront of the mansion, Archon collected his briefcase and left together with Vevila through the main entrance. They might have been causious last night, for all the right reasons, but it was time to act in the open. Archon had no fear, and no Sabbat would chase him into the shadows. His residence might look like an impressive yet vulnerable building because of its size, but it was nothing short of a deathtrap. Built to shield a man that in spite of all the protection never trusted anything like he trusted his own ability to fight.

One more Kindred joined them this night; a Ventrue man that looked young, but was the oldest next to Archon. While Roe took his place beside the chauffeur, the Ventrue sat opposite of Archon and Vevila in the back. Not a single word was uttered, yet everyone seemed to know exactly what they were supposed to do. Though Archon and Vevila spoke; pleasantries, and the vital information containing her address. They soon stopped outside an apartment building, in a part of town that Archon rarely visited. He passed through many times, but had little interest to linger. Of course, it seemed to be a place where some clans might like to hang out, but Archon would not put the Toreador at the top of that list.

As he exited to the pavement, Archon could not help but frown, from the sight as well as the subtle smell. But he was careful not to show Vevila his initial reaction, instead he gave her a soft smile when he helped her out of the car. They were not alone, the five of them. Besides the occasional pedestrians passing by, some shady, there were two additional Kindred. Though they were guarding, they did not look the part. In fact, they looked like anyone of the street. Together with Roe, they entered the buidiling to make sure the coast was clear. Even though they did not really need Vevila's key, Archon asked for it like a true gentleman. When they came back, they simply gave their leader a nod and returned the key to the lady. Roe was still in the building, waiting by Vevila's door.

"Whenever you are ready", Archon said turned to Vevila, gesturing towards the entrance. "There is nothing to fear."






_____________________________________________

((( ooc: Trampled - I'm sorry for the delay!

Everyone - I'm still having computer problems. )))
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#902 Old 1st Jan 2009 at 11:17 PM
Default Kat Bradley
:wave: Hi there! Really excited to "be here" and start roleplaying. Okay, I will stop acting like a dork and post my application now haha


Name: Kat (Katherine) Bradley
Age: 22
Willingness to be a ghoul, or embraced: I am up for anything
Occupation: Writer/Director of Public Access Show
"Short" Bio:

Kat was born in Sacramento in 1986 to her out-of-work actress mother and professional golf playing father. During her childhood, Kat spent most of her time on movie and TV sets (when her mother had a job of course) following her around like a little duckling. Kat could never get enough of the sets, and often told herself that she wold one day be a big movie star. Her mother was more than happy to enroll Kat in a drama program. Once Kat got on stage, however, she froze and refused to say a single line. Instead of acting, Kat found her calling backstage.

By the time she was in High School, Kat had worked her way up from lowly crew member to assistant director. In her senior year, Kat had directed the entire play because the drama teacher had come down with a terrible case of Mono. She was even writing and directing her own youth productions at the local theater where she had practically grew up. All the adults in her life knew by then that Kat was destined to be the next George Lucas.

Kat received a full ride to The Brooks Institute , and graduated with honors. Her short film, A Love Suicide (a 1920's style Sherlock Holmes like murder story) almost went to the Sundance Film Festival, but lack of funds left Kat at home. After graduating, Rachel, her old roommate, moved into a crappy apartment together and created a public access show, Life on a 20 Floor Walk-up. They are currently sending tapes to large broadcasting companies to try and get their show on mainstream TV.

Picture:

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Original Poster
#903 Old 2nd Jan 2009 at 11:56 AM
Default Connor and Moira - backstage at Club Envy
(((ooc: Black Sheep - Welcome. Will PM you later today with a recap. No time right now.)))


Sitting there in a quiet room, hidden away from all the people usually buzzing around him for one reason or another at this point after a show, and with only the faint muffled thumping beat of the music in the club outside reminding a distant part of his mind of where they were, Connor felt as though he was caught in a neverending storm, tossed helplessly around between utter confusion, trepidation, and something so close to fear that it was the only word that came to mind to describe it. A storm, and a feeling, that had both started a little more than twentyfour hours earlier. For a few of them, from the blessed moment when Moira had finally shown up at the door of his hotel suite the night before, until now, he had thought it had all ceased, and that calm and serenity were slowly beginning to find their way back into his soul, after having been violently ripped from him at the hands of those two women underneath that bridge; an experience that had left him exhausted, nervous and somewhat jumpy, but with the effect now starting to wear off. The world that had seemed to be spinning out of control around his weak and dazed being then, had been slowed by the feel of Moira's touch, finally, and he'd felt that everything had been alright again.

But he had been mistaken. As he stared at Moira now, gazing intently into her eyes and scouring her pallid face in search of even the tiniest hint of something that would help him in his struggle to understand, trying his hardest to grasp what it was that she was trying to tell him, he felt it all being snatched away from him once more, and himself being shoved right back into that mayhem of fighting for control, feeling the panic nipping at his heels, threatening to overcome him if he stopped for even just a fragment of a second to just take a deep breath, and try to find one end of the tangled mess she had laid before him, so that he might unravel it all gradually and in order, and thus finally take it all in. Clarity still seemed as distant to him as ever.

"I mean the truth about our kind", she answered his desperate attempt to put into words his frustrated incomprehension. "About me, even. I told you I was 300 years old, when in reality that number is closer to 600, and yet there are others older than me, much older, going back as far as the Biblical times of Caine, our progenitor. Kindred aren't a a thousand or so individuals scattered across the globe: in fact, Los Angeles alone is home to a couple of hundred of us."

First, there was still only confusion, but with a new one intermingling with the old. Putting the rest aside for just a moment, Connor couldn't quite understand why she had deemed it necessary to lie to him about those things; her age, and the number of Kindred in existence, when the consequences of the opposite, of being honest with him regarding these... facts..., initially seemed to him to be too few and too faint to make very much of a difference. Each of them did come as a surprise, sure, since they both brought with them the need for a changed view of it all, but that had more to do with the fact that Connor had always believed what Moira had chosen to tell him, and so of course when she admitted that the truth was another, it would be a surprise to him. And he just couldn't understand why she hadn't told him the truth from the beginning. Knowing their number was apparently a great one would have probably made him a little more wary and open to the possibility that the people he dealt with might be part of their kind, but it would hardly have made him any more prone to talk about what he knew, nor would he have attempted to seek them out. And as for Moira's age, and the fact that there were others older than her... Why lie about that? Or rather, why lie about the first, and why keep the second a secret? Her age wouldn't have made him think any differently of her, it wouldn't have affected his feelings. His number of fascinated, wide-eyed questions perhaps, but not his feelings. Nor would the fact that there were others older than her. It was probably the part of her confession that surprised him the least. For Connor was no fool, nor did he lack imagination. Much like anyone would, there had been times when he'd let his imagination run wild with the possibilities of how the Kindred had come to be, when their 'species' had come about and why, how old they could get, and what it would be like to be one of them. The concept of eternal life itself did open up the mind to a myriad of ideas that it would yearn to explore. Though it was of course one thing to imagine something, and another to have it confirmed to be the truth, even though most of the effect in this case was that it would give the imagination even more of a push.
If and when Connor would get a chance to mull it over, that is, because clearly, right now he wouldn't. Like so many others he was currently experiencing, the feeling that came with knowing he'd been lied to and not understanding why, lasted only for a moment, since it all turned out to just be the beginning of a far grander revelation. One that would require his full attention.

Silent, speechless even, and with eyes widening slightly with almost each thing she told him, Connor listened as Moira went on to tell him not only about the world of the Kindred, but also about how it was not just a part of the world he'd thought he knew, but rather that the world he'd thought he knew, was instead just a part of the world of the Kindred. With what she told him about Kindred influence on human history and society, the world he'd thought he'd known seemed to simply vanish before his very eyes, and in it's place appeared one where humans became little more than just... pawns; controlled, shaped, often without even knowing it themselves, by secret agendas of beings whose existence they couldn't even begin to imagine. And as if that all wasn't enough to make him both dizzy and downright nauseous, she ended her long tale with the thing that hit him the hardest, that delivered a blow to him that had he not already been sitting down, just might've caused him to actually loose his very balance;

"There is something else", she said after giving him yet a few more seconds to reflect on what she had said, and try to fathom at least part of it, the sound of her voice cutting softly through the roaring in his ears as his speeding heart kept pounding his insides, like his brain was pounding the insides of his skull. "The exchange of blood between a Kindred and a mortal creates... a bond between the two."

Now, that particular statement, despite it being so very short and simple, or maybe because of it, was all good and well, as it was the first thing to actually make it straight through all Connor's confusion, and make instant comprehension flare in his eyes. Without him having to spend a single moment pondering it, it made sense to him, perfect sense, because it was what he himself had felt for the entire length of their relationship. There was a bond there, there always had been. It was what had him spotting her so easily whenever she was in the crowd, no matter how large it was, and it was what often made words seem so very redundant when they were together. It was what had allowed him to convey the full extent of his regret at what he had done in Italy, as well as his frustration at not being able to put it into words, and it was what had allowed her to soothe his anxieties with a mere look, with a mere shifting of the color in her eyes.
But. Following that statement, was the one that quite literally knocked the air out of his lungs, and made his heart suddenly drop like a hundred pound rock in his chest;

"My kind employs it for various purposes", Moira explained softly, "... which are rarely the kind of companionship we share. We call these humans ghouls, or thralls, and their donor a Regent or Domitor."

Quite contrary to what had just been passing through his mind, the first thing to strike him here, was not the look in her eyes as she tried to offer reassurance against what she knew was bound to immediately sink it's sharp claws into him; the labels themselves, and their meaning. She had already indicated that the Kindred did not exaggerate the terms they used, by pointing out that 'the Beast' was not a term to be taken lightly, and so even though it might not be an actual, conscious thought, Connor instinctively felt that these words - ghoul, thrall, Regent and Domitor - were just as austere. And it made him feel as though someone had just delivered a swift kick to his abdomen. Not just because of the words themselves and what they suggested, which alone was enough to make him buckle in his seat, but also, and mostly, because they too made sense to him. Shocking, choking, frightening sense. As much as his entire being opposed the idea, he couldn't help but to feel it; how, ironically, it gave that violent jolt he had been yearning for, that for a moment shifted everything into focus for him, allowing him to see it all clearly. All those obscure yet painfully distinct feelings he'd had about their relationship. Of being somehow inferior, and not just because of the maturity and the wisdom that laced Moira's appearance and demeanour alike. That gnawing, disturbing anxiety he'd always experienced, feeling and fearing that she meant so very much more to him, than he did to her. That she may care alot about him, love him even, but that if he ever left her, she would not be half the wreck he would be if she ever left him.
Of everything her statement told him - about how if humans in general were pawns, people such as him were puppets - and even though it all stung, badly, that was what made him feel as though he had just lost his footing, and it was what stole the very air from his lungs.

But, just as his anxiety-stricken eyes found their way back to meet with hers, and he saw the affection painted clearly on her face, another thought suddenly occured to him. She had never treated him the way those horrific words suggested that her kind treated what was apparently his; ghouls. She had never treated him as a slave. She had never ordered him around or made decisions for him, or taken him for granted. She had given him advice in most matters - private as well as career wise - yes, but never had she not let him make the final and ultimate decision of what to do, himself.
Or had she...?

Well, actually, it didn't matter. She was one of the people whose opinion he valued the most, and he truly did love her, and so if he'd given in to her, it had always been because of that, and never because he'd had to.
Or so he thought.

Also, while those particular words, of master and servant, did paint a grim picture indeed, she had also mentioned how she considered her relationship to Connor to be one of companionship; an apparent rarity, and thus one clearly set apart from the norm.
And if that, along with him knowing she had never actually treated him as a serf or even someone inferior (for while he might feel inferior, it had never been due to her behaviour), had not been enough to offer him comfort, the words that were to follow would;

"It is very likely that one of those words could have spared you last night's ordeal", Moira said. "There are no guarantees however: because of our... affiliation, you are exposed to our world more than other humans, which increases the danger. I told you once that different Kindred have different powers, but what you don't know is that as long as you have my blood in your veins it is possible for you to learn some of them, enough to be able to protect yourself if there is a next time."

She may not have said it plainly this time around, but she had mentioned earlier something about helping him, teaching him how to deal with 'the Beast', as she called it, and what she said now bore hints of something similar; of wanting to teach him whatever it was that she thought he could be taught in order to protect himself. And not just that. By the sound of her voice, it was evident, even to Connor in his mentally frazzled state, that she wanted to teach him these things in order to keep him as safe as possible, rather than just simply offering without caring much whether he accepted or not. She cared.

But still, the rest of what she had told him weighed heavily on his mind already, and so while her reassurance did offer a glimspe of comfort, all the rest still threatened to shatter it. And with it, he couldn't help but feel, his sanity as well.
Consequently, he had to do what he'd come close to doing earlier, before her gentle touch had stopped him, by offering to distract just that last tiny fragment of his mind that would keep his head above the surface, and not be dragged down into the maze-like depths of having to deal with too many overwhelming truths at once; he stood. Somewhat unsteadily, yet hastily, he pulled himself out of the sofa, and started to aimlessly pace the room, wrapping his arms around his slender and still damp frame, as though her words had rendered him chilled to the very core.

"But I did", he insisted, once the first couple of words were able to press past his lips, as the memory of the very first thing he had told his attackers fluttered by in his mind. "I did tell them. I told them I was spoken for, and they didn't care, they still..."

There, it suddenly dawned on him that even though Moira indicated that theirs was a relationship based on companionship rather than one party's convenience, others of her kind would probably regard him as nothing more than what it seemed the majority of other ghouls were to them. For while she may not have said it out loud, she didn't really have to. Connor had gathered from the labels themselves that his likes weren't always thought of very highly.

"Oh god...", he groaned.

To learn that there are creatures far more powerful than you - one of whom you care about deeply, and cherish above all others - that harbour no sense of equality for you and your kind, and who have been more or less wielding control of the very same for a long, long time... It is bound to mess not only with your perception of the world around you, but with your sense of self-worth as well.

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Alchemist
#904 Old 2nd Jan 2009 at 3:57 PM
Aeode and Noah - Outside Club Envy


Aeode was notoriously impatient, particularly when it came down to strangers and the games they played. It was a point most excellently affirmed the other night with Claudia who, quite the opposite, seemed to relish wielding all those endless snippets of misleading information aimed to chip at the other's defences and see through their motives. If allowed, that is. Aeode tended to extricate herself from such conversation before that goal even became a possibility, or if that proved impossible, lock up and fend off each strike with the indifference of a rock standing firm against the onslaught of the ocean's waves.

For a while, that extended into the present, Aeode had attempted to decipher what Noah's actual agenda was – for, despite the fact that he wasn't nearly as obvious about having one as Claudia had been, she doubted there wasn't something extra to this unexpected heart-to-heart discussion he had initiated. Deviating from her usual modus operandi, Aeode chose to actually participate in it, unable to resist the tug of curiosity, maybe because Noah currently made so little sense to her or perhaps somewhere in a deep, remote level grain of her consciousness existed the need to fill that information void surrounding his kind: vampires. Or maybe she did it because something about him, about what he said felt so inexplicably easy to relate to, and had managed what most people could not: intrigue her.

Nonetheless, Aeode didn't lose sight of the one common denominator of all interactions: the motive behind what was said and done, even if it happened to be more or less harmless. Selfless it hardly ever was, for ultimately each and every one acted in their own best interest. It was how the world worked. Since she didn't plan to spend yet another night roaming the city to evade the ever-pressing responsibility of scraping off enough money to survive the following days, weeks and months, if they were to reach a conclusion, it had to be right then.

Upon hearing her question, or perhaps due to something else, Noah straightened himself in a brusque, unnatural manner, showing something resembling the subdued wariness she still regarded him with as well, and once more a strange sort of parallel materialized between them. As though able to tap into her very thoughts, Noah uttered a single, profound word that seemed to echo endlessly in Aeode's ears:

“Fear.”

That one word alone could contain such insight was disconcerting: it made no difference that Aeode was thinking of a different kind of fear, it truly was the core of it all, the one constant not only that day, but for as long as she could remember: fear, always fear. Her mind reeled from it, reflecting in the depths of her eyes, glazed over as they stared aimlessly somewhere in the distance over Noah's shoulder.

"I'm not apologizing for what I was about to do. That would be a lie."

Without shifting a single inch, Aeode's eyes snapped back into alertness, focusing on Noah's lean features at the sound of those words. Her expression retained a slight, probing frown, as though she was assessing him all over again. In a way she was – that statement provoked her defensive streak, like a tiny splinter digging into her flesh. Noah remained an unknown, a dangerous element, in ways she might not even be aware of. He was a vampire.

"Not all things go according to plan", Noah said regretfully, "I usually take the fear with me. I never leave it behind. And that is why I'm here, and why I'm sorry."

Aeode's eyes scrutinized him from beneath a deepening frown: interesting logic he had there, one she wasn't certain she agreed with, not from her point of view at least. Forgiving the fright he'd caused her was easier than it would have been to forgive the completed act, Aeode was certain of it. It did seem to confirm what Valerian had told her though – that the intention had never been for her to be aware of it. One could almost call that a humane way of drinking blood, and Aeode supposed it was: it didn't mean she would have been any more likely to engage in reasonable conversation following it though. There were certain things she simply wasn't very understanding about, which was just as well that she'd already gone past her feelings of rage and reached a state of acceptance. It was over, done with. And yes, things didn't always go according to plan, that was a fact of life. Noah didn't seem too well prepared to deal with this sort of occurrence, which either meant he was a young vampire, an extremely skilled hunter or very lucky. Either way, she didn't fancy being in his shoes, having to always take others' fear with him. Hers alone was enough.

"If you want me to leave, I won't argue. " Noah concluded, as though he too was feeling the end to their conversation grow unavoidably near. Aeode supposed it was as good a time as any, and it did serve to remind her she truly ought to be attending to other matters - more mundane though no less pressing.

“That won't be necessary”, Aeode told him and craned her neck to peer over the top of passing cars and pedestrians towards a brightly illuminated window across the street belonging to an all-night fast food joint. “I was just going to grab something to eat and turn in for the night anyway.”

Aeode didn't say “go home”, as she didn't have an actual home to go to. At the moment, even The Haven's stifling little storage room was more attractive than the endless maze of streets and alleys sprawling across Los Angeles – her recent experiences had managed to turn Aeode off loitering in dark, deserted places and even the relative safety of the more public areas felt lonely and unwelcoming. There was something else though: by then, Valerian would have confessed the whole shebang to Claudia which made Aeode rather uneasy at the thought of her possessions locked away in their club:, potentially losing access to them any minute. If she was lucky, they wouldn't bother her until morning, though she didn't expect to get any sleep – it had been difficult enough finding peace hiding in there, but knowing that Claudia knew would make it darn near impossible. Still, she might be able to catch a couple of hours of rest and hopefully scour the internet for available apartments that were within her price range, not to mention the tiny hope that Dez would have been able to leave her a message in her inbox.

“So...” Aeode began, stuffing both hands in her pockets and turning to Noah, taking a couple of steps forward “I guess this is goodbye then.”

One might think it odd of her to give Noah any clue towards where she was going, and Aeode hadn't overlooked that fact as a final precaution in case she was terribly wrong about his intentions. It was reverse psychology in action: being told what her destination was, any attempts at following her would automatically become more conspicuous thus possibly nipping any such ideas in the bud, and since her shelter was both temporary and a public place like The Haven, him finding it out was less important.


ooc: Psyche - I hope it's ok and not too tangled, I had some issues finding the flow. :/

Black Sheep - welcome! It's always great to have more people join in!
:D

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
#905 Old 3rd Jan 2009 at 7:38 AM
Default Kat Bradley, Melissa Harper, & Melody Hart
"Are you going straight to the apartment from here or are you going somewhere else?"

Kat and Rachel were putting in the usual all-nighter at the set, but she wanted to head "home" a little early tonight and take a break. Making a tv show was much harder than she thought. Kat could be working at any tv show she wanted at any company, but there was nothing like the satisfaction of making your own show with your best friend. Kat would rather had directed the show, writing, however, allowed Kat to control where the story went, which she loved. It only requires 80 percent more time.

"I might get a bite to eat or something. I heard there's this show at Club Envy, that's the place you went to the other day right?" Kat was digging through her 'portable filing cabinet' for last weeks script, which she was unable to find since Kat's filing system consisted of her shoving papers in the wrong place.

"Yeah. That show is gonna start in like an hour you know?" Rachel had since taken up editing the latest episode, which Kat hated doing because she was so used to live theater. That was one thing she was glad that Rachel did.

"It is? I should probably finish up then huh?" Kat began closing down her old mac book and putting the scripts that she was able to find back in their inapproprite place.

"That place is 45 minutes away, at least. You're not gonna make it in time." Rachel was always a skeptic.

"Just watch me." Kat laughed, almost like a snorty laugh, but still elegant. She always found it her one true flaw, no matter how concieted it sounded. "I'll tell you if they're good."

"See you." Rachel called after her, face only inches away from her computer screen.

After the 5 floors of stairs she had to climb down, Kat was shocked at what she saw on the street: what seemed like an infinite line of traffic. Ribbons of red and white tail lights lined the streets.

"You've got to be kidding me!" It wasn't usually in her to 'curse the heavens' but the one night she decides to treat herself, it goes horribly wrong. And her night hadn't even started yet. It took 15 minutes to hail a cab, and Murphy's Law allowed her to get the slowest one.

"I'm sorry sir, I have someplace I need to be, could we speed this up?!"

Approxamately an hour later, the cab pulled up infront of Club Envy. Kat threw a handful of bills at the cab driver and flew out of the cab in one swift motion. The bouncer asked for the cover charge, which she took time and carefully played so she wasn't banned from the club, and rushed in. Luckily, she made it in time, there was 10 minutes until the show started. Kat walked, now calm, to the overcrowded bar and pounded her hand twice on the counter. Suprisingly, the bartender noticed her immediately.

"A Staten Island Ferry please." Kat nearly screamed over the people. For a band she had never heard of, they had quite the fan base. There was only one table left, and Kat rushed to sit down, spilling a little of her drink as she did. The table infront of her seated a pale dark haired woman and a curly blonde haired woman. When the band came on stage, leaded by a cute blonde haired guy, the dark haired woman begun to look terrified and crawled under their table. Kat really didn't think anything of it, neither did the blonde it seemed. The music turned out great. Kat was now definately a fan. As soon as she got up to go up to the stage, the blonde slid underneath the table too. Kat stared at them (seeing as she was buzzed) She could only make out a few words.

".....broken.......dollies........see for yourself....."

Kat, being her intrusive and sort of rude self, walked over and knocked on the tabletop.

"You guys do know how to use chairs right? See..." She pulled one out from a nearby table and sat on it "......you sit on them and not on the ground."

((OOC: Okay, I think that went pretty well. I'm a little rusty on my creative writing skills, they will probably get better once I go back to school and start writing on a regular basis again. If there are any conflicts or would like me to change anything please, let me know.

And thanks for the welcomes guys ^^))
Alchemist
#906 Old 3rd Jan 2009 at 12:10 PM
((ooc: looks good to me, one thing though, Connor (the lead singer of New Empire) is blond, not redheaded. A small thing, but yeah, figured I'd mention it.

Also, personally I don't mind Kat approaching Melody and Melissa, but I think in general it's best to ask before joining 2 characters already interacting with each other, sometimes people have a specific plot in mind that's just between the two. That's just my opinion considering how things have worked here so far, I'll shut up if Atropa tells me to though :P))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
#907 Old 3rd Jan 2009 at 7:50 PM
((OOC: Ooooh, okay. It did seem kinda akward just jumping in like that, but now I see why. I'll make a note of that, Thanks! I also fixed Connor's hair color (I would have never caught that either) ))
Alchemist
#908 Old 5th Jan 2009 at 5:12 PM
Connor and Moira - Backstage at Club Envy


What she was doing to Connor was unfair, and Moira knew it. While she possessed the ability to deceive him and lead him to think she was acting in his best interest, while it was even possible to make herself believe it too, on the surface at least, reality was different. The only real selfless thing to do would have been to vanish from his life entirely, while the effects of his ghouldom remained reversible; Connor was still very young, and if he didn't self-destruct, in time he would have been able to pick up the pieces of his life and live out its span without the taint of darkness flowing in his veins. In many distinct ways, by revealing to him the inner-workings of Kindred society, Moira only ensured the shackles that held him prisoner became tighter. Then there was the immense burden she had just placed on his shoulders, tearing everything he knew about the world right out of his hands and replacing it with strange and frightening notions that he would not have the chance to come to terms with for a long time to come, let alone understand. Even the short version of things as presented by Moira would be too great, too shattering for his mind to even begin grasping it all, an impression turned fact by the desperate confusion that shone in Connor's eyes, mingling with a sense of dread and a flicker of recognition. Certain things apparently made sense, which was a good sign. There would be other occasions for them to discuss it and for the moment Moira had no intention of delving deeper into the vast tangle of deadly scheming known as the Jyhad: all she wanted to achieve that evening was to instil him with a strong enough feeling of acceptance of the facts laid out before him, difficult as it was. Understanding would come in time, but managing to see beyond the veil that obscured his perception all his life, and grasp the basic truth in what she told him was enough for the time being.

By doing what she did, Moira's intentions once again carried an ulterior, secretly selfish motive: half-subconsciously, she was constructing the prelude to a possible Embrace, still largely hypothetical but now with far more freedom of action should she decide to go down that path. Initially, part of the reason behind the decision to keep Connor largely oblivious was to uncomplicate their eventual separation, while the control over when and how it would occur remained hers and hers alone. Now she allowed herself more choice flexibility and Connor less of it, for even if he wanted to he knew too much to be allowed his old life back. Combining that with how utterly unstable and unpredictable a spurned ghoul could become, the masquerade risk was too great. On behalf of her kind, Moira retained the control over his fate: he could remain a ghoul indefinitely, be Embraced or eliminated. Although the latter wasn't something Moira, who did genuinely care for Connor, was willing to contemplate, her mind sorted it along with the others, accustomed to take all possibilities into serious consideration, no matter how unpleasant. It was, after all, a skill required of a Primogen.

Moira, of course, did not conduct everything from such a ruthless, emotionless standpoint: emotionless was one thing she was not. Her concerns did include Connor's well-being, even prioritized it above all but her own desires, but rather than defining them as two conflicting matters, she manipulated them into co-existance. She justified herself with the fact that it was beneficial for him to learn more of the truth and the skills which Moira intended to teach him, hence she was helping him survive into a world that wasn't his own, yet that didn't change the fact that those very circumstances were the outcome of the decisions she'd made.

Connor, obviously shaken to the core, could no longer control the so very human impulse to pace the room relentlessly as though the movement could help settle his thoughts and proceeded to do just that, while Moira watched him silently from the couch. He had seemed most affected by the part of her confession related to ghouls, which was to be expected since it concerned him personally.

"But I did", he insisted in disbelief as he wrapped his arms around himself, a classic defensive gesture, "I did tell them. I told them I was spoken for, and they didn't care, they still..."

He then stopped mid-sentence, a sudden thought cutting through the rest before Moira had the chance to intervene and point out that even in a best case scenario, the evocative words “Regent” or “Domitor” might have just been able to convince the two hungry vampires to find a different mark. Anything vaguer than that was a shot in the dark at best, because one thing remained true for all Kindred regardless of who they were: when they hunted, the Beast was as close to the surface as it could be considered safe, and their personalities became secondary to the overwhelming need to feed that could transform even the gentlest of Cainites into a dangerous predator. A hungry vampire was by default not a very understanding one.

Apparently, insight was not lost to Connor even in his frazzled state and soon, the grim conclusion made its way past the initial confusion, summoning a low groan from the depths of his throat. That flicker of comprehension was encouraging, though it pained Moira to watch him struggle so. He would need time alone, to think, and for a while she said nothing nor made any attempt to approach him. Only when he seemed to pause longer did she stand, crossing the short distance separating them and reaching both hands around his shoulders. Her gaze scoured his face, both gauging his reactions and letting him know that he wasn't alone in this.

“I know it is a lot to take in, and I wish there was an easier way” she told him. “But we have time. Take as much as you need, we don't have to discuss it all in one night. In fact, we cannot."

"I assume you have questions, though it may be too early for them.”

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
Test Subject
#909 Old 6th Jan 2009 at 2:29 AM
Default Archon + Vevila
"I am often busy, though I do surround myself with capable Kindred. I neither can nor have to be in every place personally. I will accompany you to your apartment, if you have not grown tired of me already."

Vevila found her lips parted, waiting for the words she was thinking to come, but none surfaced. It was as though her mouth had become parched of words, a sudden desert of vocabulary; all knowledge had dried up and left her unable to speak in the presence of someone so commanding. She wanted to tell him she hadn’t grown tired of him; that his very presence unsettled her, but in a way that wasn’t unsettling in the least. She was moved by him, in ways she couldn’t understand. She respected Archon as his position commanded, but she was also highly aware of the strange calming effect he had on her. She could never tire of him; the mere idea was laughable. But she couldn’t say this to him. It wasn’t proper. It would seem out of place, and like she was dependent upon a man she hadn’t known personally for more than 24 hours. No, she pressed her lips together and remained silent, instead a delicate smile offered as her only reply.

There was a moment of silence that came in the wake of her refusal to speak and his not pressing her for words. They lingered a few seconds until their silence was severed by the appearance—and most literally appearance, for the man seemed to simply materialize out of thin air—of Roe.

"Forgive me the interruption, my Lord. O'Toole wants directions. He hesitates to contact you directly."

The quiet but imposing man was at Archon’s side, and Vevila almost instantaneously averted her gaze from them as though to offer them some thin veil of privacy. She angled her slender neck away from her company and instead focused on the elegant and ornate paintings on the walls, eyes skimming the artful paintbrush strokes, the swerves and caresses of the paint on the canvas. She made no effort to analyze the comment that Roe made; it could pertain to her, or any number of people. The name he spoke held no meaning for her, and in all honesty—their business was by no means her business.

"He should.” Archon’s voice was notably colder, less friendly and devoid of the smile he had worn over it mere seconds before. Vevila drew in an unnecessary breath and smoothed her skirt out of habit. She watched him gather a briefcase and motion for her to follow, which she obediently did. They were met at the car by another Ventrue, looking in mortal age to be faintly closer to Vevila’s age, but his attitude and manner of carrying himself were far closer to Archon’s, leading her to believe that he was in fact much older than his body indicated. She felt quite odd being chauffeured about in this manner, like someone highly at risk or of some great value. A celebrity or world leader, perhaps. But it was just her—just Vevila. She didn’t merit this caution and care, certainly not? When Archon inquired for her address she spoke in a demure, pleasant tone, but couldn’t help but regret admitting to it. Having just left his palatial home in his remote oasis of beauty, her home would seem like a slovenly hovel by comparison. Never in the past had she felt any shame for her living space, but somehow now the embarrassment was unmistakably acute.

They arrived at her apartment and she fortified her expression; no look of shame would mar her beautiful features. She may be vulnerable, but she wasn’t without her pride. She exited the car and returned Archon’s smile, only to then let the smile fade when she noted the sheer number of kindred looking over her. There were the four from the car, and what appeared to be two additional kindred already strategically placed outside of her apartment. Archon politely asked her for her key and she dutifully handed him the small jagged piece of metal. The small detail of men entered the building as though securing the premises and only returned once a careful scan had been performed. Once the key was returned to her, Archon spoke in a soothing and authoritative tone.

"Whenever you are ready. There is nothing to fear."

She gazed at him for a long moment, feathery lashes fluttering over her inhuman eyes before she gave him a placated nod.

“Thank you,” her words were slightly less certain than her appearance, but she refused to let her resolve be shaken. Vevila smiled at each man with gratitude as she passed and made her way to her apartment door. She found Roe standing respectfully there, keeping watch. Vevila bowed her head gracefully and offered him her thanks, but the man remained silent. Swallowing, she entered through the doorway and eyed the contents of her apartment with mild relief.

Nothing seemed to be out of place; no signs of forced entry, nothing broken or mussed. Her apartment was always clean, always neatly tidied and warmly decorated. It had none of the elaborate design of Archon’s mansion, but it had a pleasing, homey quality. Her thick curtains were a deep red that blended with the pristine white walls and their palely accented designs. Her furniture was neither modern nor antique, but somehow ageless, suiting her perfectly. The floor was a deep, richly colored hardwood that was only covered in small patches by plush carpets. Although small, the apartment met Vevila’s needs and did not waste an inch of space. All throughout the rooms were paintings and photographs she had collected over the years and from various countries she had visited. The apartment was truly Vevila’s haven—an escape from the horror and ugliness of the outside neighborhood. It was its very opposite; white, pure, clean, and welcoming. While the exterior seemed dank and ugly, indoors it welcomed in light and beauty. Vevila felt soothed by the familiarity.

“Thank heavens no one has been here…” she whispered softly, pale fingers skimming over the smooth marble countertops. “What a relief.”

She glanced to Archon and smiled. “I’m going to go collect some things from my bedroom.” She wasn’t certain why she felt reporting her movements was necessary; perhaps the fact that six people were dependent upon those actions. She didn’t want to unsettle them by disappearing into a back room where they couldn’t see her.

Vevila made her way into her bedroom and felt herself torn immediately upon entering. She yearned for its comfort, and yet felt like somehow it had been changed in her absence. Moving to the nearby closet she withdrew a small duffel bag and then retrieved several articles of clothing from drawers. She didn’t plan on remaining with Archon much longer; she couldn’t continue to impose on him. Once she had collected a night’s worth of clothing she returned to the living room, duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

“I think that’s everything?” She beamed at them and waited for the cue to leave.

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - Ghandi
Scholar
#910 Old 7th Jan 2009 at 11:33 AM
Default Claudia and Valerian - Valerian's chambers, The Haven
The potency of deception is rarely understood to its full extent. Often… the wielder of deception is well aware of the effects they wish to inflict upon their victims and yet, there is often a lack of consideration regarding the self. The mask one wears isn’t just for the outside world, but for oneself too, for when one looks in the mirror, what stares back is the mask – regardless of what the mind knows. If even the self was subject to that deception, Claudia realised now that she’d overestimated Valerian’s capacity to see another layer to her personality.
…Or had she?

Perhaps he did see through it and considered it to be yet another layer of deceit? Though, while Claudia – like any other Ventrue – ruled with and was ruled by mind rather than heart, it wasn’t indicative that there was no heart. No, the truth of the matter was that while there was heart, as any one in control had to consider the emotions of others – for emotions were potent, especially in Toreadors – the Ventrue realised that emotions had to be controlled in order to prevent chaos.
Yet, it seemed that where Toreadors were involved, they insisted that the predominating factor was one that they knew; emotions. And not through words alone.

Instantaneously, as if poisoned to his very core by her words, Valerian denied their very meaning, fervidly shakings his head as the exquisite dark locks flowed to caress the silk shirt draping his shoulders, his cold hands encompassing hers once more as she let him lead them to rest over his chest, in a way that was still so human that she could almost feel the ghost of a heartbeat beneath the skin. It was human to make mistakes, was it not? To betray those they claimed to love?

"Baby, of course I don't,” he strained as the words seemed to be fleeing his company as she simply gazed into his eyes, willing some sense to come out of it. Yet, even that less than advisable act of referring to her as ‘baby’ cause only a reprimanding look to momentarily grace her eyes where, in a different situation, it would have possibly been a complete castigation session – she had more important things to focus on. "Of course I don't see you that way.”

His hands gently framing the sides of her face, Claudia fought the urge to momentarily bask in that sign of affection, especially aware that the equivalence of what he felt for her, would easily be incite in another where Valerian was concerned. So, there was the question involved; if someone loves you the way they love everyone else, does it mean anything at all?
Rather surprisingly, where Valerian was concerned, it did matter to Claudia, for where he loved so uninhibitedly, she did not.

“I know you're so much more than that.”

Clever boy. So, it would seem that he had indeed given up the act of lying to her for she knew that he had been subjected to the more prominent part of her demeanour – the necessary part – and thus, he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t there. Yet… ‘so much more’ made it sound like what she was to everyone else was what he perceived as hollow and empty. For Valerian, to love and be loved was a necessity, he craved it like mortals craved air, while for Claudia it was a luxury that one treated themselves to. The first and foremost requirement was control and power, even at the cost of companionship.
So, while she didn’t share Valerian’s needs, she understood them. And it seemed that he understood hers.

"I know you can be gentle, warm and kind,” he assured as the depth of his eyes devoted themselves to convincing her of what he wanted her to realise as the truth. "I know that you can love, and I know that you do.”

As reassuring as he meant that statement to be, it didn’t perform the task as he had meant it to. There were very many ways to love someone; as an equal, a superior or a possession and whilst Valerian admitted that he realised that she loved him, she knew that he still had reservations regarding the manner in which she cared for him. However, that was something Claudia neither could, nor wanted to, amend, for the basic fact remained the same – she loved him, regardless of whether it was like a possession or otherwise.

“But Claudia...,” he began, almost hesitantly as if the reaction she had given him for his betrayal was one that he had neither anticipated nor prepared for… and of course, that raised the question of how long he had kept the secret from her. And how many other secrets that he kept to himself. Right now… he was sparse on trust where Claudia was concerned, not that she would play on it right now. “How can I know when you will let those things rule your way of thinking?”
Surely, he knew the answer to that, she would never let them rule her way of thinking. She would most certainly take them into account, give them varying degrees of weight, but letting them rule her way of thinking was out of the question.

“You work so hard at hiding them, even from me,” he complained as Claudia merely raised an eyebrow – the number of times she’d forgiven his… tendencies and mistakes. “That sometimes I don't know what to expect of you.”
One way to ensure failure, is to be predictable or to assume sheer predictability. Of course, Valerian was a Toreador and a rather young one at that, or perhaps he’d have just been more comfortable if he could gauge every single of her actions and thoughts, but… sadly, that was seldom the case with anyone.
And that was precisely why Claudia trusted practically no-one, because people were unpredictable, with hidden depths and secret desires that perhaps even they didn’t know the strengths of. People wore masks that perhaps had even the wearers fooled until one day the inner self shone through unexpectedly. And that was why Claudia had always known that she took a serious risk in letting Valerian get close to her, in caring for him – only, even she hadn’t expected this… for a girl he barely even knew.
It almost seemed that having earned her trust meant nothing to him.

Yet, that affection that he had garnered from her, faintly suggested the forgiveness that she was so very unwilling to give just now, especially when he seemed to have done what he did out of fear of her and her capabilities. If it was just selfishness that had driven his actions, she would have denounced him in a moment, but what he had done was driven by the exact opposite; selflessness… and fear. Everyone feared that which they did not know, after all.
Hence, Claudia felt compelled to offer him at least a part of an explanation for her nature. In truth, her nature could only truly be explained by her origins, and that had been a secret for five hundred years now, and so it would remain.
“Not many are like you, Valerian,” she pointed out calmly as one hand gently moved to cup his neck, as the other smoothly glided down his chest before moving away to grasp his hand reassuringly – though, whether the reassurance was for Valerian or for Claudia herself, she wasn’t sure. “Not everyone loves the way you do and not everyone knows how to appreciate it.”
While he did everything with best intentions at heart, most others that walked the earth with him did not, in fact, they simply did what they did for themselves, some without concern for others. In fact, even Annie’s own actions mirrored that; the girl had not hesitated for a moment to drag someone else into her problems – regardless of how dangerous said problems had proven to be – and of course, Valerian had not hesitated for a moment to be willingly dragged in.

“My intentions are not to enchain you in any way, it’s to protect you,” she further clarified in a confession of sorts, willing him to understand the nature of her behaviour. “So know that where you are concerned, I act with your interests at heart.”

(((OOC: I hope that made sense, and so sorry for the delay!
Black sheep - Welcome! :howdy))

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Scholar
#911 Old 7th Jan 2009 at 11:45 AM
Default Lena and Adrien - Alleyway
One of the most salient points in Lena’s upbringing was the fact that you teach others how to treat you. It was like almost everyone, in a new situation, tries out the water, much like a child when given a new toy, to test what they were and were not allowed to do, to test their restraints, in a way. Thus, at that stage, you have to teach them what the rules were, because the point was, if you didn’t set the rules, chances were, you wouldn’t like the rules you end up with.

Now, for some inane reason, people required justifications when it came to these rules. Of course, the best answer always was “My cat got run over when I was five”, but one likes to be slightly more inventive. Thus, whilst some people were actually honest about why they didn’t like it when others indulged in ridiculously annoying ‘friendly behaviours’ like backseat driving or trying to undermine your confidence by referring to you as their “toy”, or even plastering you all over a third rate brick wall that played ‘Home Sweet Home’ to several unidentified species of bacteria, Lena Sayliss lied… mostly because it was just fun.

Most of the time, it worked a like a charm. Her unmatched imagination and quick wit always gave rise to the most diverse stories and she managed to make them believable enough to cause reasonable doubt at the very least. For a spur of the moment issue, the ‘Dead Little Sister’ trope that she played out to de la Cour was rather good, she had to admit. But of course, The Human – funny how that had never actually applied to him – Lie Detector didn’t play ball. Fricking killjoy.
So, she didn’t confirm his suspicions, but nor did she deny them, if fact, she just didn’t do anything about the lies that she’d fed him, wanting to see exactly how sure he could be.

Added to that, he just wasn’t too indulgent in sportsmanship, because every time she played a game with him, he just didn’t play along that well, or alternatively, he just didn’t play. So, instead, she decided to play multiple games with him, bombarding him with as much of it as possible and waiting to see whether he managed to skilfully sift through that much of it, or rather, that he had to fall prey to at least one of her games whilst dealing with the others.

Now… what Lena wanted, Lena usually got. Spoilt Daddy’s Princess Syndrome aside, it was just a matter of getting people to see the advantages of giving her exactly what she was asking for and lo and behold, most people saw the light. Though, there were the situations where you had to ask yourself whether the current person was the best person to get the job done for you. In this case, there was now no question that Adrien would indeed make Dirty Harry bite the dust, but… he just wouldn’t do it the way she wanted it. However, getting him to do it was a chase all on its own.
So, while she was currently toying with him just for the hell of it, she was still making up her mind over the Adrien vs. Harold issue.

"At the moment,” he pointed out in regards to her primary intentions – just toying with him to see what it could yield – for he clearly did notice her rather capricious nature. In all honesty, he didn’t know the half of it, for despite trying to kill him, she’d been rather consistent, not even straying too far from the lie she’d told him; oh, yes, the ‘Dead Little Sister’ trope was still rather viably salvageable at this stage. Only, he clearly didn’t buy it and for a second, she wondered whether she should reward him for his guessing prowess. Maybe, maybe not.

Well, in any case, it seemed that his choices in this matter were somewhat limited; he could just put faith in what she said, or he could try kill her. Either way, she succeeded in pushing his buttons, even though one of the two scenarios presented a physical altercation – a more mundane game at this stage. She did wonder about the directions she could propel him in.

"We'll see how long it lasts," he commented, almost making it sound like a challenge to her. What was this, reverse psychology? In any case, it did draw a mischievous grin from her lips, one with unashamed acceptance at her capricious behaviour written all over it, biting the corner of her lips in vague bashfulness. Fine; point for him. He had been paying attention somewhat then.
Though, that statement did make it sound like he would leave it up to her to set the tone of future events, even if she knew that he must know that she wasn’t any more likely to believe that than the prospect of him running through the streets of Los Angeles screaming “I’m back!”.

Added to that was the question as to why she should keep Adrien’s secret – well, given his popularity amongst the suckers, it wouldn’t be a secret for very long, so all Lena had been subjected to was a world exclusive, really – with no real reason for it? So, okay, he apparently refrained from killing her, but there was one vampire currently blowing in the wind that made up for that. Besides, if he’d killed her, and by some other machination, the psycho trio had attacked him, while he was all on his lonesome – always – he’d have been royally screwed. So, his apparent ‘benevolence’ – which surely came with strings attached – paid for itself. She owed him nothing.
So… maybe he realised that her discretion involved cause as well as consequence and he just wasn’t mentioning that part…. Well, then… given that he was expecting the worst of her after all, maybe she should tell on him… or better yet, kill him just for the hell of it.
But… no… regardless of his unfounded superiority complex, he’d managed to irk her curiosity. For though Lena viewed everyone as her toys, it took two methods to keep her interest – to be of use to her, or to amuse her in some way. While whether Adrien could be of any use was a different story – all thanks to his lack of compliance – he was a hell of a lot of fun.

In another way, it was so very disappointing, that he was being quite so… drab. Honestly, was he just trying to field off comments by not responding to them? But… it was also disappointing because for once, de la Cour proved epically inept at seeing the blindingly obvious. Or, perhaps he thought she was inept at seeing the bigger picture, one of those. Either way, when it came to picking sides, he wasn’t seeing the point of Humans vs. Suckers. Rather a more welcoming version of Lena vs. Everyone Else. That was pretty much how it’d always been.

But… though her reasons for what she did were so very contrived, hidden and convoluted beyond belief, she did exactly what it said on the label; assassin assassinates vampires. End of story.
Yes, her intentions mainly revolved around causing each of them as much pain as she possibly could. Yes, she did what she did for money. Yes, it served a selfish purpose, as was always the case with her, with anyone, really. Of course… money was no longer the actual motive. She had enough of it to no longer feel the need for it that she had at first. Truth was, she’d earned it, for everything they put her through, for systematically destroying her entire life, she damn well deserved it as compensation.
And… there’s nothing like the added insult of letting someone know that you’re killing them for no reason other than the fact that you were paid to. To make them effectively worthless by putting a price of their heads, to cheapen them to nothing more than a commodity, bought and paid for. Not just the vampires, the humans too, because why discriminate? Like that pompous jerk who thought it was his place to have her killed, she tracked him down and… figured killing him was too nice. Thus, she sold him to people who really, really wanted him, having subtly played agent provocateur beforehand to create a demand for him, then engineering the circumstances to allow the transaction.
All for that moment of being able to casually inform him that she’d sold him, much like a farmyard animal.

Hence, yes, Adrien was most definitely right, her discretion was subject to her whims and fancies – driven by the only thing about her that was ever really constant – and all bets were off when it came to that and her erratic nature. He knew full well what his alternative was and she was just waiting for him to try it, really. Only, he probably thought he was too high and mighty to go back on his word and try kill her when she wasn’t giving him enough reason to do so. Or of course, he could be really original try the blood bond – depending on how desperate he was – and given that there was at least one possibly dusty vampire who discovered the pitfalls of ghouling someone with her… personality the hard way, it probably wouldn’t work out too well.
Even without that, binding her to him would be more of a punishment to him than to her.

But, all that aside, someone appearing to miss the obvious when it came to figuring out at least what she was likely to do, what she was likely to covet. Hmm… undead vampires or dead vampires….?
So, in the spirit of giving him a little more to go on, she refrained from saying “I guess we will” and offered something a little bit more, predominantly to alleviate this boring cycle of his proclamation that she was terrible person and her all but saying “Yes, and I’m good at it”;

“I have been rather constant in regards to our mutual enemy…,” she then pointed out casually, given that that was really the only thing they were likely to have in common. And then, slight impish delight was allowed to seep into her as she further clarified the common ground; “We both like them a little more dead than they already are.”
Well, that tied things up quite nicely, didn’t it? In any case that involved curious investigation, there was always the motive factor and she’d already given him one, whether he believed it or not.

(((OOC: Hope that makes sense and so sorry for the delay! My inspiration is about as stressed as I am )))

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Field Researcher
#912 Old 7th Jan 2009 at 10:14 PM
Default Noah & Aeode Mallard - Outside Club Envy
#28 [Night #13]

The city didn't speak to Noah the way nature did, but it did confide in him. Each person passing by shifted his perception. Some were unafraid, while some seemes almost weak. The animals near by provided him with information that would be hard to put into words, though no less vital if compared. Being aware of the fact that there was nothing special to learn was also important. It meant that he was safe, at least for the time being. Though that could change at the drop of a hat. Noah regarded life as a battle. There might be long portions of peace, but one must always be ready to fight if needed. The current night could have made him a bit more uneasy than usual though.

"That won't be necessary", Aeode said, seemingly interested in what happened somewhere behind him. "I was just going to grab something to eat and turn in for the night anyway."

Her words noted, Noah nodded and turned his gaze to the ground, peering at it as if he saw behind it. He tried to listen to the earth, to find its voice beneath the asphalt. But there was nothing. He then looked up into the sky, to find the stars and any hidden meaning within their constellation. Again, nothing. He did not know how he was going to survive in the city, if he was all alone. Not only without his own clan or any friends, but also without mother nature. Maybe he had to learn that here, where everything seemed paved or built in concrete, one didn't need to listen to the energy that usually flowed around in the world.

Though he had been here before, he couldn't help but feel unwelcomed. The thought gnawed at his conscience, leaving him with a feeling of lonliness he hadn't encountered for quite some time now. It was not the same, but reminded him of what he had felt when being seperated from his family and tribe, and when his Sire had been taken from him. A complete unrest, both howling and being so quiet the mind ached. None the less, Noah was still determined that this city had something that was meant for him. And though Valerian was his next clue, he had began to wonder if Aeode had something to do with it aswell. He had never failed so terribly before, while hunting. It could be a coincidence, it could also be stars aligning. Presented to him in human form, as well as vampire ones. To Noah, it came together in a simple manner, devoided of any too complicated train of thoughts, and the conclusion was as always to follow his instinct.

"So..." Aeode continued, since he said nothing, coming a few steps closer. "I guess this is goodbye then."

As she moved towards him, he immediately turned to her and forgot all about the pedestrians, animals, earth and sky. She was getting ready to leave, and he felt that he for some reason should go with her. Even if he was a man that could think for himself and make clever decisions that had helped keeping him alive all these years, he was not the most cunning one around, or even one among them. Of it all, everything within the masquerade and the human world, Noah felt he probably didn't understand half of what he would like to think he did. Therefore, he propably didn't get the situation in which Aeode was aware of the vampire subculture and still only a human. It had been approved by the Prince, but Noah still knew as little as he could, without knowing nothing. The Prince probably had his reasons, and they were most likely intelligent ones. Even if he didn't get the Ventrue, he understood why they were so successful, and it had little to do with sheer luck. Noah had never met a Gangrel Prince, they always seemed to be Ventrue. An endless stream of Ventrue Princes, once in a while interrupted by a Tremere, a Brujah or even a Nosferatu - but never a Gangrel. He had heard of them, but never sat foot in a city where they reigned. Maybe they were too restless. He knew he would have been.

Noah couldn't let Aeode go without some sort of an offering. This night had not turned out like it was supposed to for either of them, and he wanted to make sure she got home alright. After all, Noah was a friendly spirit, and he had always taken care of those around him. It didn't really matter that he didn't know Aeode. He had been taught to always do the right thing, no matter if it was difficult or not. To accompany her was not the hard part, to offer it was.

"I can go with you...", he said. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but you seem to have been caught in our world, and the least I can do is to make sure you get home safely."

Our world... It made it even more evident that they were seperated. Not only by their difference's in the very flesh, but also by oceans of time and traditions where the vampires had grown stronger in numbers and power. It was amazing, really, that humans had no knowledge of them at all. Except for the chosen few. The ones that became hunters, ghouls, blood dolls or anything that was either against och for the Kindred - but still with a purpose. And here she came, without being anything familiar. Just a girl in a big city, filled to the brim with living and dead. Though she was so far away, Noah felt that he wanted to know her. He had wronged her, yes, but that was only how they had met. Whatever came next, he hoped it would not all be tainted by guilt. He had so much more to offer... Though the thought itself almost made him take a step back, as if he wasn't allowed to have anything of value. It could be why the city had called for him, simply by being in it he had started to feel and think in ways that was so remote. His usual self-loathing wasn't as strong, and the guilt let him reach for the surface. Once above it, anything could be possible. Maybe he could be happy again...
Noah got hit by an overwhelming sense of pain and fright. Pain, because he was still guilty of a crime comitted in the past. Fright, because he was starting to reach out. First Valerian, and now Aeode. And in doing so, did he risk forgetting those he loved - or did he honor their memory? Noah was confused, until he found a safe place inside, where he could focus and realize that what he was doing was common decency. Something his father had told him, and something he had taught his own son. You did not leave others behind, not when they had become a part of your journey. The only thing he had to do was to ask himself if Aeode was a part of the route he was taking, and since he had already asked to join her, he knew his instinct was ahead of his silly human reasoning.







___________________________________

((( ooc: Ghanima - I hope that works for you.

Black Sheep - Welcome! )))
Alchemist
#913 Old 9th Jan 2009 at 7:22 PM
Aeode and Noah - Outside Club Envy --->The Haven


Aeode was no believer in fate. To her, there was no such thing as predestination, and nothing happened for a specific reason in the grand scheme of the universe: life was nothing more and nothing less than a long chain of events that were all results of decisions made in the past, both by oneself and others. For example, her decision to return to Los Angeles had lead to meeting Jessica whose decision to reveal herself had in turn lead to Aeode approaching Valerian with her concerns and so on and so forth, ending with with her and Noah standing there together, in that place and that moment. If a single link were removed, circumstances may have evolved in a completely different manner. In a way, this belief she adhered to was the opposite of fate, of a destiny, but that didn't mean she believed life to be all meaningless happen stance. Choices bred opportunities that presented themselves sometimes in seemingly irrational patterns, or without forewarning, but opportunities nonetheless, which could either be seized or not. Then, the whole cycle followed through once more.

As she stood before Noah in the moment of their parting, a single thought haunted the recesses of Aeode's mind: “Wasn't it strange how things turned out sometimes?” They never would have met if had Valerian not intervened at precisely the right moment, and even then she had not expected to see Noah again, but there he was again, bringing with him an apology and one of the rare opportunities for meaningful conversation Aeode encountered those days. But that was done with now, and starting with that night, she didn't expect to see him again: it was probably for the best, theirs was an acquaintance made on rather...strained terms, which neither of them was likely to forget in a hurry. Still, inexplicably, Aeode found herself reflecting over the fact that she would never find out who this man...vampire...truly was, what was the reason behind all that hidden hatred he'd hinted at in their conversation, where he came from and what had happened to him. It filled her with a nondescript sort of feeling, something frustratingly remote yet undeniably and unpleasantly there, which she promptly blamed on having had a really bad day. Or rather, a series of really bad days. Aeode knew that feeling, for she'd felt it before, whenever she toed the invisible line between detachment and empathy, though she was only aware of it in times of significant emotional turmoil when she felt loneliest.

Whether Noah himself was on a similar thought track or for some other reason, his final offer proved to be yet another surprise for Aeode, who stared at him with large, round eyes:

"I can go with you...", he said. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but you seem to have been caught in our world, and the least I can do is to make sure you get home safely."

Any lingering concerns she might've had about his intentions and whether he still intended to harm her in some way were then blown to the wind, simply because Aeode had witnessed him hunt: he worked the stealth approach and judging by his words he never knew his victims nor did they come to know him, which meant that, amazingly enough, he was just being courteous. Or, he still felt he owed her something. Despite the reasoning, Aeode recoiled instinctively, innate suspicion rising towards the surface: she could be wrong, it could all be a ruse: he was a vampire, and he'd already tried to attack her once. She simply couldn't disregard that, she couldn't. The impulse to place even that much trust in him was as unfamiliar to her as walking was to an infant, and just as difficult. Then that vague feeling emerged again, hitting her dully straight in the middle of her chest when she realized she was ruled by nothing less than paranoia. Everyone else was automatically regarded as being hostile when, long ago, she would've been inclined to place a little faith in each acquaintance. Unfortunately, recent developments didn't exactly work in Noah's favour, though, strangely enough, he and Valerian had shown her more consideration than most humans in a long time. That made them similar in her mind, but also very different: Valerian had that disarming openness about him, and whenever he offered to help he did it with the ease of instinct when Noah was far more reserved. If Aeode allowed her imagination to fill in the gaps, she'd wager it had cost him a lot to first approach her and now to offer to walk her home, adding to the converging emotions she was starting to experience. Then a daring thought, that made her stomach leap, pushed it way through: so what if she took the plunge, just for once, and let herself be accompanied on her way home like a normal person would on a late night, without constant agonizing over possible hidden motives and secret traps? But a vampire...hell, why not a vampire? He could be feral and dangerous...yes, but so could she, and she was just a petite woman few expected it of. Aeode remembered something Noah had said earlier: “Given the right circumstances... I guess there is a risk we could all be the monster.” And yes, they could also be more.

Realizing she'd been quiet for some time, Aeode shook her head as though fending off an invisible insect in a flurry of ginger tresses that fell haphazardly around her oval face. She regarded Noah intensely though this time the wariness in her gaze was mellowed.

“All right.” Aeode said at last with a slight affirmative nod. “It's not far from here.”

Their first stop was across the street in front of the all-night fast-food shop window where Aeode purchased a hamburger, a large portion of fries and a coke. The transaction took minutes, for there was no queue. On the way to The Haven, the smell of the food became too appetizing to ignore after not having eaten in more than 24 hours – after peering at Noah wondering whether he'd mind and deciding he probably didn't – Aeode unwrapped the burger and tucked in hungrily. She couldn't help but smile in sheer bemusement at how peculiar the situation was: she was eating next to someone who not long ago had planned to eat her.

“Funny how things work out sometimes...” she muttered absently, voicing that earlier thought.

Not long after, the familiar sight of The Haven's façade emerged into view, the usual groups of patrons loitering about.

“Here we are: my workplace-slash-residence” Aeode explained briefly, then, before she could add anything, Jasper, one of the bouncers walked past and waved, sending a “Hey, Annie” in her direction. Aeode waved back and once he was gone, a rather sour expression settled on her face when she realized that Noah wasn't aware of her alias and she would have rather preferred to keep it that way. He seemed fairly willing to accept things as they were though and it wasn't as though it concerned him, no? As long as he didn't start blabbing her real name around The Haven, but she couldn't say that without opening a whole can of worms.

“Long story,” she told him, her gaze shifting uncomfortably. “But anyway, this is where I stay at...for now.”

“And hopefully not for long” she added mentally to herself.

“Thanks for, er...for this” Aeode continued after some hesitation, seemingly struggling to put her feelings into words. Though there had been little said in the meantime, it was pleasant not to face the dark, empty streets completely alone. “I know it's probably not what you had planned for tonight either.”

((ooc: I hope what I wrote works, I kind of moved Noah along but eh...if not, shoot me a PM. ))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
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#914 Old 10th Jan 2009 at 7:40 PM
Default Connor and Moira - backstage
(((ooc: Terribly sorry for the delay. Long and busy week, which didn't leave me feeling as though I would be able to write something as emotionally charged as Connor's posts tend to be right now, and thus I felt I wouldn't do him nor the situation any justice.)))


For a long while following the pained sound of Connor's most recent epiphany, the soft shuffling of his feet as he paced the small room, and the faint sounds of his somewhat ragged breathing, were the only sounds heard between it's four walls. All noises coming from outside almost seemed to have ceased, to have faded into nothingness, subdued and silenced by nothing but the pure intensity of what was currently transpiring in the small secluded area holding, besides the furniture, only the young man's incessantly moving form, and Moira's perfectly still one. Back and forth he paced, from one end of the room to the other and then back again, while wave upon wave of the same realization kept crashing over him, each one a severe blow to his sense of self, since it turned most of what he'd thought he'd known upside down - the world around us is, after all, part of what helps us define ourselves - and each one threatening to be the last one he could take, the one to finally shatter it all completely.

His mind rebelled against the idea of being thought of as someone inferior, of having someone else strip him of his worth without his consent. All his life, he'd been a firm believer that no person was worth more than another, regardless of background, skin color, intelligence, sexual orientation, education, finances, gender, or even deeds, and so to be thought of as someone lower than someone else, because of something he didn't even fully understand, was something he didn't feel he had in him to accept. His mind reeled with indignation at the very thought of it. And yet at the same time, a part of him felt like nothnig short of a fool, for always having assumed, at least logically, that mankind and vampires were... perhaps not equals exactly, since one preyed upon the other, but at least something close to it. He felt naive, and in a way downright stupid. Angry, and betrayed in a way he couldn't explain, even to himself. Not by Moira, but by the world and himself; the world for not ever having revealed it's true form to him, and himself for never having been able to see through it's deception. He felt nauseous, like his head was spinning one way, and the world around him another, and each thought that entered his mind seemed only to propel his pacing, pushing him into yet another orbit around the room as soon as he began to slow down in contemplation of the previous thought to occur to him. Over and over again, his brain kept bombarding him with the many things Moira had told him, and he never seemed able to finish one trail before another imposed itself on him and dragged him away from coming to any conclusion whatsoever.

He was wondering if he had somehow brought the previous night's attack on himself somehow, if he had done something to attract their attention and then something else to make them completely disregard what he'd been trying to say. But before he had a chance to even try and think of what it might be that he had done to bring it upon himself, his mind jumped to the encounter with that Claudia woman before this evening's show. Something about her had gotten him thinking that she too was Kindred, and while at the time, he'd been displeased, to say the least, about the way she'd been treating him, in light of what Moira had just told him, it made sense. He didn't like it, in fact he loathed it, but if his kind - ghouls - were considered inferior by them, her behaviour towards him did actually make sense.
However, he didn't get much further down that path either, before his thoughts returned to the previous one, only with an additional edge this time; what if he really had brought it upon himself? All of it; the attack last night, as well as Claudia's arrogance a few hours ago? Having not had much experience with Kindred before, except with Moira, all of a sudden he'd been approached two nights in a row, by different Kindred, and in ways that even though they were extremely different, had left him feeling degraded. Was it, due to simple naiveté, all his own fault? Was that was Moira had tried to tell him?

At long last, his pace began to finally slow, and while he briefly squeezed his eyes shut and dug his fingers into his damp locks of golden blonde, a shivering breath, a sigh almost, made it's way past his lips, and for the first time in what seemed like eons, he came to a full stop.
It was then that he suddenly felt Moira's calming touch once more, as her delicate hands gently seized him by the shoulders, almost as though she wanted to keep him from resuming that endless pacing again, and coaxed him into lifting his head slightly to look at her, while his arms slowly lowered themselves to his sides.

"I know it is a lot to take in", she said soothingly, confirming that she understood and accepted his inner turmoil, and at the same time reassuring him that she was there for him to lean on, "and I wish there was an easier way. But we have time. Take as much as you need, we don't have to discuss it all in one night. In fact, we cannot."

Connor nodded, as one would when understanding, or accepting what someone older and wiser was telling you. Though in his case, what he did understand was limited to only a few of the things she had said, and at that moment, the nod was mostly a simple reflex, a motion born of the subconscious awareness that it was what was expected of him, the right thing to do.

"I assume you have questions", Moira then added, "though it may be too early for them."

Yet another nod, at first. Thoughts were still rushing through his head, too fast for him to be able to successfully grasp a single one for very long. Yet being reminded of Moira's presence had seemed to slow it all down, just a little bit, drawing some of the frustration out of him like one would poison from a wound, and offering the reassurance that it was alright for him not to understand it all right now, that if he just gave it time, it would all soon slow down enough for him take it all in, one thing after another, at his own pace. It gave him the peace of mind to let it go, to give it the freedom to come to him when he was ready for it, much like someone suffering from memory loss couldn't force their memory to return, but had to find the peace of mind to let it return of it's own accord.

However, there was that one thing that, ghoul that he was, and center of his world that Moira was, still haunted him, still clawed at his sanity and drew out his fear. Having learned, as well as having realized that he had actually experienced it first hand, how some of her kind regarded his, he was now in need of more reassurance then ever. Despite her already having offered it several times and in various forms, there was still a raging desperation in him, to make sure.
Thus, while for the first couple of seconds following her taking hold of him had seen thin whisps of peace skimming the look in his vibrant blue eyes, it all soon vanished, and he gazed intently at her with renewed anxiety.

"What am I to you?" he asked, urgency straining his voice. "You said... 'Various purposes'... And clearly those two last night... and then the one a while ago..."

Once again he interrupted himself mid-sentence, perhaps realizing he wasn't making much sense, perhaps unsure of how to express the experiences and the treatment he'd been subjected to, or perhaps fearing that taking that trip down memory lane again would throw him right back into the inner turmoil Moira had just snapped him out of.

"What am I to you?", he thus repeated, returning to what was the main question burning his mind, trying not to give too much thought to the experiences that had been part of leading up to it.

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
#915 Old 11th Jan 2009 at 12:05 AM
Default Application for Marvin
1. Clan: Brujah

2. Name: Marvin Grey or that is what he is currently going by

3. Age: Ancilla (208 years old, appears to be about 18)

4. Disciplines: CELERITY Level 2, POTENCE Level 2, PRESENCE Level 3

5. Short bio:

Marvin was born Melville Ayers into poverty in London, England around the turn on the 19th century. He has a patch of thick black hair on his head lacking any particular style, piercing green eyes and deeply favours leather as his choice of covering. These days heaven help anyone who refers to him by his actual name though they would be hard pressed to find it out as no one has spoken about it in years.

Back then in the 1800s he had a mother of sorts but she was married to her bottle of gin and basically left her many children to fend for themselves. As any child born into poverty in those harsh days he learned quickly that in order to survive one must use their wits above all else. Wits with which to manipulate those that dared to stray into Russell Square where he kept his time and his mates. He quickly became a skilled pickpocket, swindler and overall menace to the good people of London.

It was hardly a surprise, when at the tender age of 12 he was carted off to a workhouse, and assigned to hard labour until his attitude might be changed. Needless to say this did nothing to soften his rebellious spirit, only feed the passion he had to bring down all those that thought themselves better than he.

Working with heavy equipment he wounded himself quite fiercely and he was taken to the infirmary to die. In there instead of death he found undeath, unlife. He had been watched unawares for quite sometime by a creature who found his unquenchable desire for insurgence intriguing. Rather than let the 18 year old die the Kindred turned him into one of the creatures of the night.

Upon awaking Marvin was amazed at his transformation, his enhanced senses and healing power. However he had no idea what had just happened as his Sire had abandoned him. When the nurse came in to retrieve the boys undoubtedly dead body, she was quite taken back to find her patient standing completely whole in the middle of the room with the most curious eyes. It was then that led by pure instinct and hunger did Marvin make his first kill. When the nurses dead body fell from his arms he knew that things had changed beyond repair and he was glad.

Escaping the workhouse was quite easy with his enhanced self and soon he was back on the streets of London. He learned quickly of his limitations regarding the sun and his weariness around holy relics and the Catholic Church. What he wasn’t certain of was his strengths. By pure coincidence he was discovered by a small and angry Brujah fraction and taken in. He was taught the various disciplines he was capable of and the fact that the Camarilla were a bunch of overstuffed, stick-up-their-asses, castrated degenerates whose many pointless rules were only followed by the weak. However it was important at least on the surface to remain seemingly loyal to The Prince, while secretly cursing his spiteful name.

For the first time in his life Marvin studied hard to learn but that of course could not last. So after a time he left and began to slowly roam the earth looking for new ways to bring down the establishment. Just what exactly would happen after the establishment was destroyed has never entered his mind. That would be a bit far thinking on his part.

He deals very much with the here and now. He does have some charm in his dry sense of humour and in the small remnants of a boyish immaturity. Overall he just seeks to destroy the status quo and shake everyone up and make them rethink their position on those they trust.

OCC: Please let me know if I should make any changes. I look forward to playing in the group!

6. Picture:
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#916 Old 11th Jan 2009 at 3:25 PM
Default Valerian and Claudia - Valerian's chambers at The Haven
(((ooc: Welcome Brujah! Glad to have you. Will add the character to the character list asap. And if you have any questions, feel free to ask, either in the thread, or through PM. )))


Opposites attract, they say, and to most, when it came to the relationship between Valerian of the Toreador clan, and Claudia of the Ventrue, it would seem that particular statement had never rung more true. A couple consisting of a young man whom, despite his many qualities, many had pegged as little more than an ivory-tower dreamer, a flower child if ever there was one, and an Elder Ventrue female, who was known for acting with a calculation and a sophistication befitting her age, and with a predatory mentality true to her Kindred nature; the two hardly seemed likely to be attracted to one another, let alone end up in a long-term relationship. At least not a romantic one. For while at the beginning, it had made sense for an impractical Toreador to hook up with a knowledgable and savvy Venture, for business purposes, when business started intermingling with romance - in a manner of speaking, since Valerian had always respresented the majority of the romantic side of it all - quite a few eyebrows had been raised, simply because it seemed such an unlikely thing to happen. Thus, most had seemed to write it all off as a union of pure convenience, and there were even those that believed Valerian to be blood bound. How else could someone as hungry for tenderness cope with being in a relationship with someone so known to be quite sparse with showing affection, and why else would the latter put up with the neediness and the wantonness, the constant and open 'indiscretions' of the former?

Indeed, most really did utterly fail to see the true depth of the relationship between the two; that it was not just one of one-sided possession and equally one-sided adoration. As part of it all, Valerian himself had always know it to be more. Much more. He knew that Claudia cared for him, loved him even, and he knew that it was not just because of the effect he had on her standing and her reputation. It might be the reason that seemed to tower above the rest, but the truth was not always as simple as what you saw. She loved him not only for what he was to her, but for who and how he was as well.
And he loved her too. Though not in return, for he would have loved her even if she did not love him. Again, love was unconditional, and so he didn't need anything from her in order to love her, except the freedom to do so. And the freedom he had. And not just the kind of freedom that allowed him to care for her, but the freedom that his entire being needed in order to thrive. He was free to love without limits and restraints, to care for others. Claudia may not like it, and she may try to steer him away from it most of the time. But she never actually tried to forbid him, nor did she present him with an ultimatum to get him to stop, which all only went on to prove that she did indeed genuinly care. For if she didn't, odds were she would hardly have put up with it for very long. But she did, because she understood that if Valerian was forced to contain all those feelings that often seemed to be just bursting out of him, he would wilt. At least he thought she understood it, because there was that one thing that had him wondering; her eagerness to have him drink from her that last, third time, in order to fully bind him to her. He knew she wanted it, as a way of truly cementing their relationship, to ensure that he would never leave, but he couldn't help but to think that she, of all people, ought to realize just what that would do to him, as well as to their relationship. Surely she couldn't be so blinded by her desire for him to love her like he loved no other, that she didn't see it?
And oh, how he wished that she would see that he already did love her like he loved no other. Everyone he loved, he loved like no other. There was no other way for him to love, because how can one possibly love two different individuals, with all their dissimilarities, the exact same way? It just wasn't possible. Not to Valerian, who, when he loved someone, loved them for everything they were, and for everything they were not.
He'd tried so hard to make Claudia understand that, but for some reason, he had never seemed to get through to her on that one. And he feared that with the recent turn of events, whatever progress he might have made before, it had now all been erased. Then again, maybe that was exactly what it'd take to make her understand; a fresh start. Destruction of what he had, unsuccessfully, tried to build, in order to allow him to start over from another angle.
He could only hope, because it truly did pain him to know that she had, and still was, getting the wrong idea about his feelings for her, and his reasons for being with her.

"Not many are like you, Valerian", she said, bringing him out of the tangled web his mind had begun to weave, as he felt her one hand slide around his neck, and the other reaching for one of his. "Not everyone loves the way you do and not everyone knows how to appreciate it."

Today's truth, but not one of which he had been unaware. He knew he was often going out on a limb when following his heart and putting faith in people he had no real logical reason to trust, and that there were those that would try and use his gullibility and exploit it for their own purposes, and who might even end up hurting him in the process, without giving it as much as a second thought. He did know that. But even though rejection and abandonment were the things he feared the most, there was no way of avoiding that risk, because to him, staying true to his heart was imperative. Even if others were not true to him, he himself had to be.
And Claudia knew it as well;

"My intentions are not to enchain you in any way, it's to protect you", she said, putting into words one of the things of which he had always been aware, despite her never having been so upfront about it before; that part of her reason for being so possessive and outwardly jealous, was because she cared about his well-being, and had taken it upon herself to keep him safe, since he himself often did not, by her standards. "So know that where you are concerned, I act with your interests at heart."

Yes, in many ways, she was almost like a lioness protecting her cub; a likeness that had been proven quite aptly no more than an hour ago, when she noticed that Valerian had been in a scuffle of some sort, and worried that he was hurt. Intermingling with the concern in her eyes then, had been a thirts for revenge, on whoever it was that had dared attack him. And even sometimes when she tried to steer him away from getting further involved with a target of his infatuation, he knew that it was because she saw potential disaster, or simply hurt on his behalf, on the horizon, and wanted to spare him the experience.

The problem was, there were times when he didn't want to be spared the experience, such as now, and there were also times when she might be not just protective of him, but downright overprotective. Sometimes out of that genuine concern, but also sometimes due to the true jealousy in her, making the concern serve as just an excuse - consciously or not - to interfere. Never with malice truly aimed at Valerian, but still causing a loss on his part anyway, since he'd be hauled out of a matter of which he wished very much to be a part.

"I do know that, Claude", he said with a soft smile, trying to somehow reassure her that while others may not, he did actually see that she cared for him as a partner, and not just merely a possession. "I've always known that. And I do love you for it. But..."

He paused for a few seconds, allowing a thoughtful silence to ever so briefly settle itself between the two of them while he reflected on the situation and on his words one last time, before choosing them;

"We don't always agree on what my interests should be", he said finally, while giving her hand a gentle squeeze to indicate that he was not making accusations, or faulting her somehow. "I know you're just looking out for me, and that you're trying to keep me safe, and out of trouble. But, there are times when I really want to take a chance, because I want to help, and feel that I'm able to do so. It was what happened with Annie; she came to me for help, and I saw a way of offering it to her, and protecting our kind, without her having to die."

There he paused again, though only for a moment this time, while tentatively inching himself closer to her, still seeking to reassure her, but feeling unsure of whether she was ready to let him get that close just yet.

"That's partly why I didn't tell you at first", he said softly. "Because I feared you wouldn't see things my way, and agree to let me try. Out of concern for my well-being. And even now I get the feeling you're thinking of ways of getting me out of it all."

He pulled his head back slightly to be able to look her in the eyes.

"Are you?" he asked.


(((ooc: I'm so sorry if it's messy. There was so much I wanted to get in there, but I had trouble connecting it all.)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
#917 Old 11th Jan 2009 at 6:19 PM
(ooc: Thank you for the welcome! I suppose my my question is, how do I begin? I could write an intro post, but it is my experience those are normally ignored by people in on going storylines. Also as a regular player pointed out above at times others do not like their threads being invaded by a new players and messing up their plans. Any hints or help or someone who wouldn't mind their stories given a slight shake-up would be very helpful. Thank you so much. I am very excited about this. Everyone seems to be exceptional writers.)
#918 Old 11th Jan 2009 at 6:26 PM
(((ooc: Hi hi! I am a new player as well (Where is Wannabe by the way?). Anywho, welcome! I hope you have loads of fun!)))
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Original Poster
#919 Old 11th Jan 2009 at 6:47 PM
(((ooc: Black Sheep: WannabeSith has alot on her plate right now, and so might take a while to reply And, having said that, since (currently) you have only one character, and thus are kind of stuck at the moment, and might want to get actively into the roleplay, maybe yours and Brujah's characters could run into one another? It's just a suggestion, and I say it with the best of intentions (not trying to pressure WannabeSith), but at the moment, I think that might be a good way in for you both? The current RP night has progressed quite a bit, and so everyone else that I can think of, already have their characters engaged, and most of them in kind of private places (backstage, personal chambers/apartments, etc), which makes it difficult for others to come across them?

I do also believe we still have one character who has yet to make an appearance (*nudgenudgewinkwinkknowwhattamean?* @ trampledsneakers), and might be looking for someone to interact with. But, again, no pressure. It's totally up to trampled if she wants to throw Alric into the mix.

Last but not least, I know all of my characters (currently four(!), even though one is semi-dormant) are open to storylines, though personally I can't think of anything at the moment. But I will most definitely keep you guys in mind, and try to come up with something. And as always, I'm available through PMs and MSN Messenger, should you have any questions, suggestions and/or want to discuss ideas.)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Scholar
#920 Old 11th Jan 2009 at 7:15 PM
Default Apologies, Welcomes and general Spamming
(((OOC: Firstly, welcome Brujah - glad to have you here
I'm with Atropa's suggestion, that maybe yours and Black Sheep's character could approach each other?

Secondly, I just want to let everyone know in advance that I may not be able to invest as much time into the RP as before - I have a strenous period of time ahead of me IRL, so, I might take a while in answering to posts (though, I definitely will remain involved in the RP), because I'd rather take the time to actually write a good reply than to give you a half-accomplished one. I understand it can be disheartening to a RPer to put effort into something that isn't responded with in kind.
Good news (I hope, lol), its just for this term, so, I'll be be back after that.

That said, thirdly, I'm open to plotlines and connections, as ever )))

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Alchemist
#921 Old 11th Jan 2009 at 7:20 PM
((ooc: Welcome, Brujah! And yay, a Brujah character :D

Brujah & BlackSheep: I also echo Atropa's suggestion that maybe you two could approach each other. It absolutely doesn't mean I don't want Kat RPing with Melody and Melissa, but since WannabeSith is busy (totally understandable) Kat can find an easy exist if you'd rather get going instead of waiting for us. Just a suggestion of course, trying to help things move more smoothly for the new players ))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
#922 Old 11th Jan 2009 at 7:35 PM
(( ooc: Thank you everyone! I really like both Brujah and the Toreadors for different reasons, obviously. However I saw that there were 5 Toreadors and no Brujah, so it was a clear choice. It's good to be unique. Starting a thread together is a fine idea if you are open to it Blacksheep. I should get a post out either tonight or tomorrow and Kat can stroll on by if you wish. Of course Marvin is a vampire with lower self control and might be hungry after a long journey, so just be aware.)
#923 Old 12th Jan 2009 at 1:04 AM
(((ooc: No problem. I've just been telling myself that Kat passed out and is just laying in the middle of the club until Melissa says something. Anywho, I'm open to anything except Kat dying (in the not living for the rest of eternity way)! I'll keep an eye out for your post.)))
Retired Moderator
retired moderator
Original Poster
#924 Old 12th Jan 2009 at 9:39 AM
(((ooc: Okay, the ooc posts are starting get a little excessive, but I just wanted to say an official welcome, vocman3. The application looks fine to me, and just like I've told the other new players, if you have questions/need help, feel free to ask, either in the thread or through PMs. We're all here to help. )))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
#925 Old 12th Jan 2009 at 4:02 PM
Default Marvin Grey - Club Envy
‘Ah, yes Los Angeles, the city of Angels. Home of such monumental landmarks as Hollywood Boulevard, Kodak Theatre and … I’m all ready bored.’ Marvin with a practised look of weary tedium pulled out a comb and ran it through his impossible to tame black locks. Was that rather 1950’s of him? Too bad, he liked the fifties. ‘Oh but most important Los Angeles is home to his most royal highness Prince DonkeyBreath, oh so sorry, make that Prince Damian. Prince Damian Asshandler, oh that’s right Prince Damian Alexander. Oh but of course. I must make an effort to show my utmost respects being new in town and all.’

Sticking the comb back into it’s home in the pocket of his skin tight leather trousers the slender young man began to stroll through the crowed streets hands clasped behind his back. A tattered open motorcycle jacket despite the cold was the only covering on his upper body. He made no effect to change his straight ahead path as he barrelled through the crowded sideways. At a pace that was natural to him but unnaturally swift to the casual observer. Forcing people to jump out of his way to avoid being trampled, as they cast bewildered and angry looks at his back. Something about his velocity and his stance said very clearly that he would pause for no one. To them he paid no mind at all, simply doomed cattle running on their pointless wheels.

“Oh Prince Damian, where are you?? Can’t pay my respects if you won’t show yourself old chap. Of course I would hate to drag you away from the unimaginable little luxurious cocoon you have undoubtedly set up for yourself. Unimaginable to such a lowly peon such as me of course.” Stopping under a glaring street light Marvin spat a mixture of red and white onto the side walk and watched it with satisfaction as it swirled it’s way down into the filthy gutter.

Looking up from the side walk he observed that he was standing right in front of an apparent Club Envy. ‘Oh what do we have to be envious of I do wonder?’ The Brujah remarked to himself wryly before his eyes landed on a peculiar couple standing in the clubs light. They appeared to be a Gangrel and a human, possibly a ghoul, engaged in a very intense and emotional conversation. Marvin watched silent and amused as they apparently came to a decision and wondered off together to the sound of rising violins. ‘Ah the tragic tale of beauty and the beast a cause for envy if there ever was one.’

Glaring at their back, his blood hot in his veins, he briefly considered running after the Gangrel and exposing the sod for the undoubted con that he was. All in the ruse of saving the pretty damsel in distress of course. Her gratitude could come in quite handy in a new town with no easy sources of blood. Marvin knew he could easily take a Gangrel if he so choose, even if he wasn’t the hugely muscled machine gun baring stereotype that was so typical of the Brujah. What he lacked in physical size, he more than made up for in his speed and wiry strength. He was as good a fighter as any and was always looking for ways to prove that. All the same, he knew it was best to know the lay of the land before doing anything impulsive. Let them have their little failed romance, these things always ended the same, with shed blood on the ground.

Smirking to himself he pushed past the rest of the crowd to reach the door. If he knew anything about Kindred, and he did, they tended to congregate near each other and where there was one, there probably was another. It was a modern club that greeted his eyes and yes there were the Camarilla lap dogs sprinkled amongst the unknowing mortals. One was even under a table, which was amusing in itself especially since the poor dear was undoubtedly a pointlessly scared Malkavian.

There was undoubtedly a story there but right now he didn’t have time to try and solve the unattainable mystery of a mistrustful Malkavian. The press of humans and their throbbing necks reminded Marvin anew just how badly he needed blood after his long journey. He hadn’t been exactly cautious about his use of Celerity on the way either, which was a drain. What's more, he highly doubted his beverage of choice was currently being served on tap at the bar.

Still a blood doll in this restless crowd shouldn’t be especially hard to find. After all this was Las Angeles wasn’t it, where everyone had stars in their eyes. Promises where easily made day after day and then just as easily broken leaving a tangle of bodies behind. There was nothing to stop him from following the deceivers example. After all it was tradition in this town. ‘I wonder just who needs to be given hope on such a cold and lonely night?’ Marvin's tongue flicked at his slightly retracted fangs as he sized up the crowd of agitated and unsettled mortals before settling on just one pretty girl.
 
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