World of Darkness: Balance of Power - [Vampire] The Last Night

[Shosuro Miren]

After sunset

December 31st 2009

The Nelson Atkins Art Museum

It was still four hours until midnight and already fireworks were firing off from premature well wishers and people that just liked to see things blow up. The Plaza was awash in a sea of half-drunken socialites performing their final bar crawl of year while the suburbs were dotted with cookouts, parties, and roving bands of people bidding farewell to the first decade of the new millenium (and if they were a year early, no one was yet correcting them). In short, the city was having a blast and Puck was no exception.

Music blared from the speaker system of the museum as it had been for the past two hours; as the Daeva danced into the control room the music cut from Disturbed's Inside the Fire over to Apocalyptica's version of Unforgiven. After all, guests would be arriving soon and so the museum was in the final stages of its conversion from Puck's playground of the past few nights into the New Year's Gala that would be his debut as the city's Master of Elysium. Disturbed was nice, but Apocalyptica was much better fusion of tradition and modern passion. The dark-clad monster grinned as he thought about this subversion of his Prince's preferences. Baby steps.

"Puck! They're almost here," a young girl sped breathlessly into the room, a huge grin on her face. She'd traded out most of her jewelry for spacers or more elegant fair for the evening, and like the rest of the party attendants and favors of the evening, she was dressed in a chic, elegant goth glamor. "Quinn spotted their car rounding the fountain!"

He grinned at her and nodded, murmuring with deceptive ease, "Then you best be getting in place." Evanna had been with him all her life though, and could see the lines of coiled energy in his stance. Her eyes widened and she squeeked in excitement before bolting out of the room. He placed his final selections on the music mixer, adjusted the volumes in the rooms to make natural quiet speaking rooms and more raucous main rooms for the party. He checked the security cameras on the interior terraced courtyard one last time, and then made for his own starting point of the night. Running was so much less of an issue when you didn't sweat any more.

As visitors began arriving, they were greeted to by the iconic reflecting pool of the museum, the blue lights under the water giving the walk up an earie, otherworldly feel. The juxtaposition of the ultra-modern addition to the museum and the traditional columned stone that was the original home of the museum was the inspiration for Puck's decoration for the entire evening; Puck himself was waiting just inside, offering warm welcomes to Kindred known and new in the Prince's name.

The bulk of the party itself was located in the inner terraced courtyard of the main building. Chairs were arranged in clumps and cliques, with a more formal setup along one wall that would afford the Prince and his entourage a commanding view of the room to hold court from. Silent-footed young men and women were on hand for nearly anything that evening's festivities might require.

Click to reveal..

Rules of the Elysium, which would be already known or quietly told to all guests:

~Respect the City and it's officers. Rudeness will not be tolerated, so if you're going to insult someone, do it either cleverly or politely.

~Weapons are allowed, violence is not. Figure it out.

~The Plaza is the Rack. The block around the museum is not and is claimed by the Master of Elysium. If you need to feed, either avail yourself of the ghouls present or leave the area.

~The museum is open for viewing, any destruction or defacing of art work during the Elysium will be considered an attack on Elysium.

~Use of disciplines on other Kindred at Elysium, other than in direct self-defense will be considered rude. See rule #1.

Nelson Atkins Museum Map

[Mel Grimson]

As Puck prepared for the guests to arrive, a feeling of menace, that something was scarily wrong moved creepily over him. As it swept over him, Mel Ganker entered. Surprisingly, (for Mel) his red hair was reasonably combed, and his clothes actually looked presentable for a formal occasion.

His cold eyes met Puck's, then inspected the surroundings. "You've been busy Puck." The statement was matter-of-fact, and merely an observation. "My spot?" he asked, in a manner suddenly evocative of a scout making sure an area was clear.

[Shosuro Miren]

The Master of Elysium was aptly named.

"Anywhere you want, but" he grinned and held up a finger, "if you're wanting a good spot to watch the crowd from, may I humbly suggest the second floor veranda above the courtyard?"

He waved someone over who had been artfully displayed by one of the columns that dominated the hall. "Here, Dominic will show you to wherever you'd like to go."

The young man was dressed in a style somewhere between dark romance novel hero and Victorian butler, bowed smartly to Mel without much sign of fear in the Nosferatu's presence and motioned fluidly towards the grand staircase that swept up behind his master. "If you'll follow me, sir, the terrace is this way."

[Mel Grimson]

Mel gave a curt nod, and the guide and guided soon came to the second floor veranda. After that, Dominic left, and Mel had time to watch, wait and brood. Leaning against one of the pillars, he reflected that one of the downsides to his position was that it did behoove him to come to social occasions that he'd rather not come to.

His eyes raked from above over the newcomers, noting someone there, looking at an elder there, letting his eyes gaze over the scene.

[Aftiel]

Aftiel walked in smiling to everyone. Puck's "Brood" were known to him and he greeted and waved to several of them. As he entered and someone came to ask for his coat he thanked them and reached in side. Pulling out the shoulder harness' that each hadthree stakes in them. He also opened up his coat and unstrapped his sword and handed that over.

"Think I will keep the coat but why don't ya do something with all my extra weight."

Aftiel continued in. Up above he saw one of the princes dogs. Aftiel nodded up to him then went up to Puck.

"Looks like a great party you got going here Puck. Or should I stand on ceremony here Master of Elysium?" He grinned.

[Shosuro Miren]

Puck grinned and pulled his covenant mate into an embrace. One arm still looped around the taller Kindred, he laughed, "My friend, you can call me any kind of master you'd like."

Even after the time he'd spent with the Daeva over the past few months, Aftiel still didn't know quite how much of the smaller man's flirtatious attitude was pretension and how much was left over from whatever life he'd had before his Dance Macabre. Still grinning like a madman, Puck relented and made shooing motions towards the courtyard. "Puck's fine until the Prince or someone else high up on the social ladder says otherwise. Now get, the party's over there!"

[Clem Broson]

The sound of unhurried footfalls heralded the next arrival as the Elysium's Master turned to greet their owner. Worn-down boot heels hit the polished floor with the steady beat of a slow metronome. As far as walks went, it had a character all of its own. "I'm walking right now," the footsteps said "and I've been walking for a long time. And I'll be walking for a long time yet." Somehow it was hard to imagine the owner of those well-worn boots ever changing his pace: It suited him too well.

The feet wearing those boots were attached to faded denim-clad legs, the hem of a patched and sewn-up duster brushing against the fabric with a soft whispering sound. A white shirt, open at the collar, was tucked into those jeans. The supple dark leather of twin gunbelts was clearly visible criss-crossing the waistline. Cartridges glinted like tiny jewels in the light from where they were visible around the walker's hands, thumbs tucked casually into the belts a short distance from the carved ivory gun-butts, polished with age and use, that protruded from the edges of the stranger's duster. A broad-brimmed hat, as patched and well-worn as the rest of the vampire's garb, threw a shadow over the face. Despite the clothing's condition, Puck noticed that it was all clean and well-cared for... Just hard-used.

As he came to stand before Puck, the walker lifted a hand and respectfully tugged on the brim of his hat before tilting it back on his head, revealing a handsome young face that the Daeva knew would never get any older. Mismatched eyes studied the Master of this Elysium for a second, then the stranger gave him a friendly, courteous smile.

"I heard there was a party here, and that the great n' good would be attendin'. I'm a stranger in town... Leastways, I ain't been around for a good long time." He offered a hand to the Daeva. "Name's Clem. Clem Broson. It's a pleasure, sir."

[Shosuro Miren]

Puck shook the hand heartily, returning the warm smile. "Well, welcome to Kansas City, Clem. I'm Puck and I'm glad you were able to get wind of the Elysium tonight. It'll be a good chance to present yourself and get all that sort of official stuff taken care of..." he waved a hand, dismissing the millenia's old tradition, "...and all that without being bored to a second death."

The slight Kindred trailed off and seemed to blush slightly while looking at someone coming up behind Clem. "Um, though of course Prince Gregor is never boring. And court, court's never boring! Never ever!" The poor little guy seemed like he was about to die of embarrassment.

"Court," came the measured tones a woman that, when Clem turned to look, was dressed immaculately in a flowing, cream-colored pants suit with an ornate sword belted at her side, "is always boring, unless my sire is in a foul mood, and then it's both exciting and incredibly dangerous." She was flanked by several other Kindred of the city and they swept up into the hall with the certainty of the powerful. She arched a brow at Puck, as if to challenge him to disagree.

He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it and somehow making it look better for it. Clem was just able to catch the grin fighting through his show of being abashed. "Lady Madelaine, um, I was just getting Mr. Bronson here acquainted with the city. Let him know what's what and all that. No harm meant."

The woman peered at him for a moment, seeming to weigh his words. "Hmn. You're up to something. You never pretend to be this scared of me otherwise." Her eyes flicked around the decorated museum and a smile lighted on her features, "And the place looks wonderful." Puck's grin finally won out, and Clem reflected that he rather did look like a cat with particularly bright and large canary in his teeth.

Madelaine held out a hand to the newcomer, "By the way, I'm Lady Madelaine Von Gruskov, Seneschal of Kansas City, Immortal, and Au Pair of the Invictus." Her smile deepened, "And if you don't speak fluent Invictus, that pretty much means that I'm the official secretary, voice of the Prince, and general baby-sitter of the city."

[Clem Broson]

"Clem Broson, ma'am." The ageless youth took Madelaine's hand in his own slender fingers, then bowed slightly over it as he removed his hat with his other hand in a gesture as polite as it was anachronistic. Blue eye and russet-brown glinted roguishly. "A real pleasure to meet a lady that can carry off wearin' that many hats so graciously, Lady Madelaine." He straightened, plopping the battered hat back onto his head and smiled pleasantly at the Kindred accompanying the Seneschal before turning his gaze back to both her and Puck.

"I'd have to agree with the lady, fer what my opinion is worth. This is a fine setup you've arranged, Mister Puck." The laid-back wanderer glanced around at the decor appreciatively before grinning crookedly at the other two. "It's just my good luck to be arrivin' when such a shindig is in the works, I guess. And here's me with no fine clothes. I'll try not to lower the tone none."

[Ravenna]

The sleek, black, 99' Eclipse with MagnaFlow exhaust and vertical doors purred to a halt. The door slid upwards and the vehicle's occupant stepped out into the chilly Kansas City night air.

The shadowy woman moved with a preternatural grace like that possessed by most of fellow Kindred, one by one her boots ascended the steps of the Nelson-Atkins Building. She ignored those who were outside, letting them enjoy their illusions of entertainment while they had them.

She was sheathed within an expensive black leather long coat that concealed everything but her feminine frame. Her black hair was pulled back tight into a pony tail and her attractive features were highlighted by smoky eyeshadow and shimmering lip gloss.

With her hands in the pockets of her coat she casually entered the building and looked about. She was quite impressed with the architecture of the interior despite her expression conveying nothing but ambivalence.

[Lavinia Foscari]

In the Seneschal's entourage followed a slighty shorter and more slender apparition dressed in a long flowing black dress that could well date back into the middle ages in both design and extravaganza.

Only her face contrasted the blackness as it was almost as white as Puck's. A well placed smile crossed it as she took in the young Daeva's handsome appearance and flattering demeanour. He was trying his very best to be both a good Master of Elysium and enjoying himself at the same time which was impossible per definition.

With catlike curiousity Lavinia looked at the newcomer Gangrel and after waiting for Lady von Gruskov's welcoming speech she extended her own delicate hand to Clem and raised one brow expectantly. "We are Lady Lavinia Eleonora Virgina Foscari, Gregor von Gruskov's Harpy and Bishop of the Lancea Sanctum... we welcome you to our beloved Parish. Those Kindred who accept the truth of God's plan may study and pray in this place and the lifeblood of our divine purpose will flow within their ranks.", her gaze rested on Clem as if she was judging him right there while her smile remained a perfect mask of politeness and etiquette.

[The Story Guide]

Madelaine managed to suppress her sigh of annoyance, but couldn't quite refrain from an eye-roll at the royal 'we' - well, the religious 'we', but close enough. She didn't even register the mini-sermon; she had gotten used to that enough by now that she just tuned it out. The 'we' still grated, though.

While the Harpy cozied up with rugged visitor, Madelaine stepped aside with Puck for a moment, the two of them talking quietly away from the others. One of Puck's ghouls stepped forward, the same one that had escorted the Hound earlier, to take Puck's place in greeting and directing the others coming in. The man diffidently approached the latest guest, smiling with friendly good nature, "Might I be of assistance, ma'am?"

[Mel Grimson]

From where he was, Mel could get a reasonable view of people coming in downstairs, and he noted the most recent group coming in with interest. A Western looking Kindred that was likely to stick out like a sore thumb.

Lavinia, he did not have the best of relations with the Harpy, at least considering their tense meeting a few days back.

Then, there was Madelaine Von Gruskov. If she was here, then her sire, Prince Von Gruskov, and Mel's master, would be here shortly. And he would have to be respectfully present, as in actually in the courtyard to acknowledge his arrival.

So he returned down the stairs, moving to unobtrusively slip past the group, hoping that the presence of a second Nosferatu would obscure his own aura.

[Moira Fitzgerald]

Moira walked past the eerie reflecting pool and made her way through the main hallway. Dark heels clicked quietly across the pale marble of the grand entry hall, accompanied by the faint swish of lace. The elegant Irish beauty stopped long enough to trail her fingertips lightly over the black veined marble columns that decorated the main hall, and she gazed up for a long moment at the woven tapestries hanging outside the entrance to the courtyard that normally served as a dining court to visiting museum patrons and employees of the establishment. The lights in this area of the museum had been properly dimmed for atmosphere, and it gave the woven biblical figures an air of mystery and intimidation that matched the crowd of undead monsters that gathered beneath them. Who knows - perhaps someone here was older than the four-hundred year old tapestries. With the Kindred, one never knew for sure.

She was wearing a vintage-style dress that was both elegant and just a touch gothic at the same time. The white silk clung to her curvy figure, blending into her pale, undead Irish skin and moving down her stomach and across her hips. Black beaded trim accentuated the top of the dress and rested across her upper arms, and black lace hung generously from the bottom of the dress, flaring out from her knees down and sweeping silently behind her. Her hands were covered with dainty black lace gloves that lacked fingers and ended just past her wrists. Matching black drop earrings stood out starkly against her elegant ivory neck and a touch of dark makeup graced her eyes, contrasting against the bright amber of her irises. Curly red hair was pulled partly up in a style reminiscent of the glamorous actresses of the 1930's, but while some of it was held back with a black and white Art Nouveau hair comb, the rest of her vivacious curls tumbled artfully over her shoulder, forming a streak of color across that pale, undead skin that was matched only by the vibrant crimson of her lipstick. Overall it was an appearance and a sense of style that would have marked her to anyone who didn't know her as one of the indulgent Daeva, or perhap a commanding Ventrue. Only the depth of knowledge or the flicker of mysteries best forgotten that glimmered out from her cool gaze indicated otherwise.

She saw that there was a crowd gathered by the door, so she stepped quietly in behind them and waited patiently to be greeted after the more royal of the guests had been spoken with and made their way inside.

Click to reveal..

Moira's Outfit:

[Clem Broson]

Originally Posted By: Lavinia Foscari

With catlike curiousity Lavinia looked at the newcomer Gangrel and after waiting for Lady von Gruskov's welcoming speech she extended her own delicate hand to Clem and raised one brow expectantly. "We are Lady Lavinia Eleonora Virgina Foscari, Gregor von Gruskov's Harpy and Bishop of the Lancea Sanctum... we welcome you to our beloved Parish. Those Kindred who accept the truth of God's plan may study and pray in this place and the lifeblood of our divine purpose will flow within their ranks.", her gaze rested on Clem as if she was judging him right there while her smile remained a perfect mask of politeness and etiquette.

Mis-matched blue and red eyes returned Lavinia's gaze with calm appraisal of their own, neither intimidated nor aggressive as the Gangrel smiled, taking her delicate hand and bowing over it as he had with the Seneschal, other hand once more removing his hat with flowing smoothness.

"You honor me, ma'am. Clement Broson, late of Arizona. Though that was a long time ago." He looked up at her, still holding her dainty fingers lightly in his. "I accepted that the Lord had a plan back when I was breathin', and ain't seen no reason to change my mind since. Your loveliness and kindness are simple proof, if I needed t'see it, that He's still part of my world." The handsome young-seeming drifter smiled once more, letting the lady's fingers slip from his as he returned his hat to his head. "I must admit to feelin' like a crow among the doves here." he chuckled.

[Lavinia Foscari]

The Gangrel's mis-matched gaze unsettled the Harpy but it only showed briefly on her face as the raised brow arched back into a furrow. Something about his words, even though they were eloquently worded and politely recited seemed to upset the Harpy.

She retracted her hand slowly but defensively and grasped for the old victorian fan which was dangling down around her wrist on a thin cord. Raising it to her face and thus covering it with an elegant motion from her wrist she only presented her eyes to the newcomer and quietly added, "And your covenant be?"

[Clem Broson]

"Well now." Clem's smile was equal-parts friendly and abashed as he returned his hands to his waist, thumbs hooking easily into his gunbelts. "I can't say as I've ever been invited to join one. Perils of a wanderin' life, I guess." His lips quirked.

"So you see, Lady Lavinia, I'm just plain old Clem. No titles or position." he smiled warmly at the eyes that peered at him from over the fan, then looked around the entranceway. "Now, I believe I'm holdin' up the line here. Perhaps we could talk more later if that would please you." He tugged on the brim of his hat once more, nodding his head to her, then to Puck.

"Thanks again for the welcome, Mister Puck." He tugged his brim again to Madelaine with another charming smile. "Your servant, ma'am." Then the Gangrel was gone, the duster whisking against his legs as he strode further into the Elysium with the same unhurried, easy-going pace with which he'd arrived.

[Goro Kondo]

"Fair night Lady Lavi," the newcomer came out of nowhere it seemed, approached when the group had been distracted between the Bishop and the cowboy. To all present he seemed human, felt human, but Lavinia knew better, the slight Japanese man was no mortal, he was of the clan Ventrue, though one of the oddest she knew. "Kondo Goro," he said to the goul taking names. He turned to Lavinia, though his gaze was directed down to her hands, to the roasary she carried, "I bid you short days and long nights."

Those present found the little man an odd fellow indeed. A very modern suit was rumpled as though the Ventrue had rolled his way to the gathering. Despite the modernity of the clothing he carried an antique cane topped with an ivory dragon's head in the Eastern style. His shoes where battered and scuffed, well worn and cared for and over all of it he wore a medium long leather jacket that was clearly very well cared for, the leather obviously rubbed and polished routinely, it fairly well gleamed.

[Lavinia Foscari]

Originally Posted By: Clem Broson

"Now, I believe I'm holdin' up the line here. Perhaps we could talk more later if that would please you." He tugged on the brim of his hat once more, nodding his head to her, then to Puck.

Lavinia's eyes seemed to smile behind the carefully positioned fan. "I'll be looking forward to it..."

Her eyes surveyed the line of newcomers and lingered with anticipation on the gorgeously dressed redhead. Now this one looks promising, she mused to herself but just before she was starting to enjoy herself she heard a familiar accented voice greeting her - no interrupting her and insulting her name.

Originally Posted By: Goro Kondo

"Fair night Lady Lavi," the newcomer came out of nowhere it seemed, approached when the group had been distracted between the Bishop and the cowboy. (...) He turned to Lavinia, though his gaze was directed down to her hands, to the roasary she carried, "I bid you short days and long nights."

Taking a deep breath Lavinia simply nodded at her fellow Sanctified and dismissed him with the faintest flick of her wrist. "Blessed be thee, my brother" We talk later about this insolence

After that she awaited the next newcomer hoping for the gorgeous redhead to find her way to her. Her eyes squinted briefly before she recognised the gorgeously dressed redhead - isn't that Moira? How wonderful.. This evening had potential...

[Goro Kondo]

Goro looked puzzled at the dismissive behavior; for a moment he seemed lost, unsure of what to do. "Oh, Goro, you know how she hates nicknames, especially in public," the rosary said to him kindly.

"Of course, my mistake," Goro replied aloud, "thank you." With that he shuffled along toward the courtyard, his eyes spying the ancient colts the cowboy wore as his coat flapped out from behind him. Goro hurried along after the man, interested to see what unique stories such Kami might have.

[Clem Broson]

Clem wandered unhurriedly through the courtyard, meeting the curious gazes of the younger and less-experienced Kindred present with smiling nods and, in the case of the ladies, a tip of his hat. Finding a table in a far corner from where he could survey the room, the Gangrel turned and sat, flipping back the tails of his coat and getting comfortable. He idly wondered if anyone he knew would be here tonight. Probably not, he decided with a shrug. It worked for him either way. If people knew his reputation, it'd be easier to gain acceptance. If they didn't, then he was an unknown and thus could play that card.

No sooner had he settled than the drifter noticed an elderly-appearing man approaching him with a curious intentness to his manner. Clem blinked: it looked as though the man was staring at his... guns. It was his guns, the Gangrel was sure. It had better be his guns, that was for darned certain.

Clem pushed his hat back on his head and gazed at the Oriental gentleman with a mixture of curiousity, courtesy and wariness. The man didn't appear to have a Beast, so he was either mortal or one of those Kindred that could cloak their nature. The vampire's odd eyes watched him, one thumb still hooked into it's gunbelt. "Can I help you, old-timer?" he asked, not unkindly.

[Mel Grimson]

Pleased at not being caught up in the crowd, Mel slipped over to a table close to the Prince's line of seats. It was an excellent spot to observe and watch. With a mixture of boredom and impatience he waited for his master to arrive. At least something of interest would come up from his announcements.

[Goro Kondo]

Originally Posted By: Clem Broson

Clem pushed his hat back on his head and gazed at the Oriental gentleman with a mixture of curiousity, courtesy and wariness. The vampire's odd eyes watched him, one thumb still hooked into it's gunbelt. "Can I help you, old-timer?" he asked, not unkindly.

Goro looked up suddenly. "Uh, yes, perhaps you can. I am a dealer in," a pause to consider the right word, "in items of character and value, your weapons; are they genuine originals?" Goro hooked the head of his cane over one arm, his fingers twitched as though he were having trouble keeping himself from helping himself to the twin revolvers. "I would, be greatly interested in hearing their story, and if you are looking to sell?"

[Ravenna]

Originally Posted By: Malachite_OOC

While the Harpy cozied up with rugged visitor, Madelaine stepped aside with Puck for a moment, the two of them talking quietly away from the others. One of Puck's ghouls stepped forward, the same one that had escorted the Hound earlier, to take Puck's place in greeting and directing the others coming in. The man diffidently approached the latest guest, smiling with friendly good nature, "Might I be of assistance, ma'am?"

The beating heart and pulsing veins told the dark woman that this man was a ghoul. She respected ghouls, having spent a considerable amount of her own life as one. She looked at the man, he eyes cold and emotionless. "You may. We'll see. I am here for introductions, having arrived recently to the city. You know these faces, I'm sure. With whom should I begin?"

It was obvious that being here was something of an inconvenience to her, that or she didn't like mingling.

[Clem Broson]

Originally Posted By: Goro Kondo

Goro looked up suddenly. "Uh, yes, perhaps you can. I am a dealer in," a pause to consider the right word, "in items of character and value, your weapons; are they genuine originals?" Goro hooked the head of his cane over one arm, his fingers twitched as though he were having trouble keeping himself from helping himself to the twin revolvers. "I would, be greatly interested in hearing their story, and if you are looking to sell?"

The wanderer smiled then, gesturing with his free hand to a chair at the table he'd commandeered. "Take a seat, Mister...?"

"Goro." said the antiquities dealer, his eyes once more straying to the gun-butts. Oh, these guns -were- animasu, he was certain. Their Kami whispered while at rest, like cold wind or the voices of snakes. And the leather of the belts and holsters was old too, and lovingly cared for. It was not unlike beholding daisho which had seen actual use in the hands of a Tokugawa samurai.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Goro. The name's Clem." The Gangrel smiled. "And these...?" he tapped a slim finger on the hilt nearest his hand. "They're originals, right enough. Bought 'em a long, long time ago. Since then they've been maintained, parts have been fixed, hell, pretty much damn near the whole guns have been replaced over time... But they're the same guns, if you get me." He hesitated then, with a smile, slowly and smoothly palmed one, reversed it, and offered the hilt to Goro with one fluid unhurried movement. "They ain't for sale, but by all means take a look. A man don't sell his friends." he added with a faint smile.

[Shosuro Miren]

The man smiled and gestured over to where Puck and Madelaine were speaking, "That is Lady Madelaine Von Gruskov, the Prince's childe and Seneschal. With her is Puck, the Master the of Elysium. You'll want to present yourself to both of them, and then to the Prince once court is under way, of course. He hasn't arrived yet, but he'll be rather easy to spot once he's here."

He spoke softly so as not to encourage others to intrude on a guest that did not seemed inclined towards idle chit-chat. "Court will be held in the courtyard just to our right, though the museum itself is open to any that wish to view it while the Elysium is underway. Several meeting rooms have also been arranged if you have need to speak privately with anyone."

He waited a heartbeat or two then to see if there was any other information she desired from him.

[Moira Fitzgerald]

Seeing that the ghoul assigned to greeting was occupied with an unknown Kindred's queries, and that Puck and Madelaine were no longer engaged in conversation, she nodded politely to the ghoul as she passed, and stepped over to the Master of Elysium and the Seneschal of Kansas City. She curtsied politely to them both and the corners of her lips lifted in a faint smile.

"Lady Von Gruskov, what a pleasure ta' see ye' again. I hope ye've been doin' well. An' Puck - may I congratulate you on a well-chosen location fer Elysium. O' course I suppose ah'm a bit bit biased. But th' Nelson is so beautiful, and the atmosphere is jus' perfect."

[Daven_OOC NPCRM #1]

Four men and a woman walked through the streets of the plaza, watching the people as they danced and sang and carried on in merriment.

"What do you think of that one over there Father York?"

York glanced in the direction Gregor nodded and then gave the prince a odd look. "I think much like you, Prince Gruskov, that she would give no filling sustenance to me. I believe we have allowed enough time to pass, if they are not all gathered the fault lies with them and not you."

Gregor Von Gruskov III nodded in agreement and the group turned towards the Nelson-Atkins. "Tell me arch bishop is it really so hard for you to find your feelings anymore?" Gregor was fascinated by York's age. Most kindred who grew to be this old often simply became reclusive. Most were thought dead or in deep torpor more times than awake but here was a kindred who still sought to be around others.

"Hard? No, not hard. However it is tiring. Emotions are not necessary but of course you already know that. All kindred do very early in their masquerade it just takes them time to be able to face it. Emotions allow us to hold on to what we were before. We felt before so we must continue to feel now. That however is the lie we tell our selves."

Truly a fascinating man.

As they approached the museum York fell a step behind Gregor, and the three Lancea hounds, Natalie, Decon, and Henry, that escorted them fell in a step behind York. There were still a few Kindred entering when they arrived and Gregor patiently waited back for them all to make it to the main gather area.

Inside Madeline felt the presence of her sire growing closer. Saying to Puck that the Prince would be arriving momentarily, she walked back to the group that was gathered at the entrance. "If everyone could please make their way in to the courtyard, official introductions can be made once the Prince has formally arrived."

While they waited outside, Gregor turned to York. "Are we expecting any trouble tonight?"

York shook his head. "No one would dare threaten the Elysium right now. Politically no one has the strength to challenge the Invictus right now, except possibly the Lancea, and I haven't been bored enough lately."

Gregor gave a look of mocked shock. "Did you just make a joke Father York? I think my childe may be rubbing off on you."

At that point the way was clear and the group entered. York waved off the ghouls and mortals under the thrall of the Master of Elysium and they made their way to the courtyard restaurant. Gregor was adorned in the simple yet elegant attire of his nobility; York, as usual, simply wore his white robe. Both men carried a sword with them as did the three following them, who each wore their own finery. Once they entered the restaurant, York raised his voice over the talking.

"Alder Prince Gregor Von Gruskov the third, Earl of Kansas City. His Sheriff, The Arch-Bishop of the Midwest, Mathew York. Priest Decon, Natalie, and Henry, hounds of the prince." Another oddity of Father York, despite his pride, was not a man who minded introducing others, even if they are lower station. Gregor waited for all attention to be turned his way.

"Good evening everyone, and Happy New Year! Tonight we celebrate the one year anniversary of this court as well as the first gather put on by Puck as my new Master of Elysium, and it already looks like I have made a fine decision.

Since this is supposed to be a party I will hear nothing tonight of politics and feuds. Tonight let us be one people. Let us enjoy each others company and for one night forget the rigors of eternity. Outside the streets are filled with the bliss of those that do not have to be concerned with the next century. Let us for one night share in that bliss.

And in case any of you were unsure, that is an order from your Prince."

[Mel Grimson]

When Prince Gruskov entered and began his brief speech, Mel was respectfully at attention. Once that was finished though, Mel sighed in annoyance. An order yes, but not very pleasant in this situation. Mel felt bored, and he was trapped here for the foreseeable night.

There were but a few kindred at his table, but they re-engrossed themselves in their own conversation, and were sitting at the other end of the table.

An observer would note that Mel Ganker was effectively given a lot of space.

In the end, Mel started thinking what Cecilia, his ex-lover and sire was doing right now, while he was out of the old Victorian. She probably wasn't bored, whatever she was up to.

[Lavinia Foscari]

Lavinia curtsied gracefully at the Prince while she hid her disappointment immediately behind her fan. So... look, but don't touch, touch but don't taste... taste but don't swallow...

There was a short sigh that escaped her lips and then she decided the only course resonable for her - she walked over to Arch-Bishop York seeking his company. The Prince asked them to enjoy this night and she was willing to fulfill the Prince's wish, no matter how she felt about it.

As soon as she reached him she lifted the fan to hide her whispered words to him, "I sense a certain sadness, my love. If there is anything I can do to ease your pain just let me know."

[Goro Kondo]

Originally Posted By: Clem

He hesitated then, with a smile, slowly and smoothly palmed one, reversed it, and offered the hilt to Goro with one fluid unhurried movement. "They ain't for sale, but by all means take a look. A man don't sell his friends." he added with a faint smile.

Goro took the offered weapon, "You honor me Mr. Clem." He inspected the weapon, opened the cylinder and closed it again. "Exquisite..." he said absently as the weapon began to awaken within his hands.

"Hello. You kin 'ear me can't ya?" The voice of the weapon was rough and drawled the words it spoke in a way that resembled the man who owned the gun. "B'en a lon' time since sumbudy could 'ear ma voice."

Goro smiled and bowed his head over the weapon, "I am honored to hear your story and speak with you." To Clem, the little Asian man was now holding a one-sided conversation with the gun he held in his hands, Goro spent a few minutes apparently listening to the weapon, though the object remained both inanimate and silent. After a few minutes he looked up and appeared embarrassed. "I think you Mr. Clem," he said offering the weapon back reverently, "It is an exquisite piece with many stories to tell, if only there were more time and fewer court member about. Tell me, are you newly arrived to the city or have we just never had the pleasure to cross paths before tonight?"

[Shosuro Miren]

Puck grinned at Moira and pulled her into a hug and a kiss on the cheek, showing more restraint and propriety than Moira or any of those that had spent time with the Toreador privately would have expected from him. At Madelaine's announcement, he headed into the courtyard with everyone else, taking up a socially appropriate place near where he'd prepared a place for the Prince and waited.

He flushed with pride at the Prince's compliment, flashing the gathered court a dazzling smile, and chuckled at Gregor's orders for the night. He, for one, would have no problem pleasing his Prince in this matter. As the gather truly got underway, Puck circulated through the room, making sure that no one was left without a kind word or helpful introduction from the Master of Elysium. Especially he was concerned with meeting the new faces in the city tonight and ensuring their chance to present themselves to the Prince and gain the protection of the court.

Madelaine brought herself quickly to her sire's side; few watching the brunette beauty could miss the gentle and loving look she gave her sire, softened even more by her so-human look. Had her small beast not been readily felt by the other predators in the room, one could easily have mistaken her for an enamored ghoul or pet kine. "We are to enjoy ourselves this evening, Gregor? Does this mean I might actually cajole you out of your chair after the presentations of the evening are dispensed with?"

[Ravenna]

Impassive she leaned against the door frame, far out and away from the masses of those who had gathered to listen to their prince speak. He seemed a regal enough Kindred, well spoken, courteous and reasonable. Then she remembered what he was and what she was, then applauded him silently in the back of her mind for being such a marvelous actor.

After the 'formalities' were dispensed with she made her way to Puck, the Master of Elysium. She thought it wise to save the Prince for last, as she still hadn't nary a clue what she was going to say to him.

She approached silently, which was not uncommon among predators, and politely smiled at him. "You are 'Puck', yes?" Her accent sounded African.

[Clem Broson]

"I'm new in town. Least, I ain't been through this burg for at least a half-century. And that were a flyin' visit, so to speak." The gun vanished as smoothly as it had been drawn, nestling back into it's holster with an audible (to Goro at least) sigh of contentment. Clem eyed the strange man before him, seemingly a little distracted by something. "I got to ask, Mister Goro, and forgive me if I'm bein' rude. But did you just talk to my gun?"

The wandering Gangrel didn't seem too disturbed by the thought, but was nevertheless watching Goro with wary curiousity.

[Goro Kondo]

Goro nodded, "To its spirit, its Kami, yes. All of you Gaijin, you have closed yourself off from the spirits of the world, of places and things. Of course, to the court, to my own covenant, I an deemed insane. I am Ventrue, the clan's weakness of the mind is well known. It is easier for them to label me insane than to accept that I see beyond their capability."

Goro stood up and bowed deeply toward Clem. "You have my thanks. If perhaps you are looking for something while you are in town; I own a shop." He produced a business card from somewhere, even Clem's quick eyes could not discern the origin of the car. "Please come by any time. For now I must go however, I feel the pull of hunger. It was a pleasure to meet you." He bowed once more and moved away into the forming crowd.

[Shosuro Miren]

The mercurial Kindred nodded and smiled back, giving the woman an appraising, and approving, once over. "I am. And who might you be? I'd surely remember if we'd met before."

It could have been a sleazy barroom one-liner, and the flirtatious mannerisms of the Daeva certainly didn't dissuade that opinion, but it was said with utter sincerity and a with a disarming guile. He continued to take her in as he waited for his response, an artist enjoying someone else's exquisite masterpiece.

[Ravenna]

Her eyes darted from side to side lingering on some of the 'people' that were surrounding him. She hated this. Introductions in a formal fashion was not something she was used to anymore, perhaps in a different life this would have been easier.

"Ravenna de Sombra." She spoke clearly, with a slight pinch of her African accent mingled in. Quickly Puck could realize that her accent fake, but most likely was acquired, perhaps during a long stay in that country. "I arrived a few days ago, I was told it is customary for me to introduce myself." She watched as his eyes wandered all about her frame, still clad tightly within her long leather coat. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What?" She asked finally, curious as to what was so odd about her that he couldn't help but keep taking her in. She wasn't trying to be rude and her tone was more curious than stern, but it was obvious that subtly was not some she excelled at.

[Shosuro Miren]

Puck quirked a brow at the suspicious reaction, but his smile never wavered. "My apologies," he murmured contritely, "You are a beautiful woman and my family, we have a weakness for beauty."

He held an arm out to her with Old World charm, "Yes, it is customary. I can bring you to the Prince so that he may formally acknowledge you as a member of the city and extend the protection of the city to you, if you'd like. Is this not the custom where you're from or are you new to your Requiem?"

His question was asked with good natured curiosity and he seemed mostly unconcerned by the implications of her accent or her statements.

[Ravenna]

I am not a woman. I am a vampire. she reminded herself, using the generic term for her species but decided not to correct the pretty man in front of her. She was instructed to be polite and accepting of those different from herself, which she was learning was everyone. "You are quite flattering," she smiled. "Thank you."

"You would introduce me?" She inquired, again a hint of speculation in her voice. One thing was certain: this woman was uptight. "Again, thank you. I suppose I am, yes. New to my Requiem, as you put it. Forgive me, but my sire was singular in his purpose for Embracing me and spent more time on that than introducing me to the proper etiquette of, well, all this."

"I arrived from Egypt a few nights ago," She seemed to curl her lip in a small grin, as it remembering home. "With all the information I'd need to be here this evening, but little else. You are the first Kindred outside my Clan I've seen in two decades. It is," She paused, looking for the right words. "Overwhelming."

[Shosuro Miren]

"Ah." There was an entire conversation in the word; Puck gently steered her towards where the Prince had taken up residence in the room. He didn't pry into why her sire had embraced her, that would have been rude and she'd satisfy his curiosity later if she stayed in Kansas City, he was sure.

He stopped them just shy of the aura of the clutch of Nosferatu that made up the majority of the elders and leaders of the city. If this Ravenna de Sombra was already overwhelmed, she certainly didn't need the rude wash that that aura had been for Puck the first time he'd experienced it. He bowed smartly to the centuries old German noble, "My good Alder Prince, may I present one Ravenna de Sombra, newly come to Kansas City and wanting to present herself to you."