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


Shosuro Miren

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"No sir.. no sir.. an' yes sire, ah' sure do. Ah'm sure Wi - Puck here will make sure I know all the details required."

Her arm slipped back through Puck's just as the four gentlemen approached. India's eyebrows arched in surprise at their outfits, but she stifled her curiosity and refrained from making a comment, focusing her attention instead swiftly back on the Prince, waiting patiently for his response.

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Natalie's lips peeled back from her teeth, baring her fangs. She turned left and right, her mind roaring with confusion. The hunger was almost like a voice. A voice that couldn't make up its mind. Run. Fight. Kill. Flee. Her whole body was tensed and tight, and only the pressure of Charlotte's hand brought her back into herself with a start.

"I have to go. I can't do this. I can't stay here." Natalie whispered nervously. She jerked her hand free and turned, only to find herself staring at a quick procession of men dressed like soldiers from the civil war. The sight of them brought her up short, stunned into stillness, as they marched past her.

What the hell? Could this night get any stranger?

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If Puck was annoyed by the boisterous interruption to the presentation of his childe, his smile showed none of it. "Thank you, General Dumas. I'm glad you could spare the time for the festivities." He eyed their dress uniforms, his lips twitching from smile to grin as he felt a brief pang for not having declared the party a costume party. Ah, well, there was always All Hallows Eve. "Please pardon me for a few more moments, if you would, sir."

The Dumas brothers (hopefully) placated for a moment, Puck returned his attention to the Court and waited for Gregor's formal acknowledgement of India.

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Clem had moved away as soon as the Prince had formally welcomed him, sauntering back to his corner table and seating himself there to watch the fun and games. There was Lady Lavinia, she of the royal We, talking to a lively-looking redhead dressed up like a high class dance-hall girl. Puck had been distracted from his presentation of his childe by the four Civil War-dressed Kindred. Clem studied them for a moment: the uniforms appeared authentic from what he could tell, but he hadn't been involved in that war except around the edges.

He put his feet up on the table he was sitting at, taking his hat off and setting it onto the table by his feet before relaxing back into his seat, running a hand through his untidy black hair. Then he went back to watching the room, noting who spoke to whom, who avoided whom, and who else was arriving.

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From behind Gregor one of the Invictus stepped up to him. Lord Ezekial leaned in close and whispered in the princes ear. What ever he said caused Gregor to look at India and Puck for a moment then he nodded to Ezekial.

"You are, for now, under the protection of my city and its laws India Hamilton. Your recognition is pending a meeting that you and your sire will have with Lord Ezekial. As soon as he brings me the report of that meeting you will be recognized. This protection is only for one month so I advise you set up a meeting soon."

The nos standing behind Gregor examined both her and puck. The expression on his face was pure curiosity. He stepped back to rejoin the other Invictus standing behind Gregor.

With that done Gregor turned and looked at the four still standing there.

"Do you also have someone to present to me General?"

Jimmy shook his head and took a step forward.

"Just thought that his highness should know my men went ahead and swept the area on the way in. We saw no suspicious activity so you all can rest easy. The only gray coats you have to worry about tonight is my brother here and he will watch his P's and Q's."

There were several chuckles around the room though if Jimmy noticed or cared he showed no sign. Gregor keeping his smile as under control as he could nodded.

"The city, as always, is thankful for the work you and your unit do General. We know we are truly safe from rebel hands with you around to protect us. In the future I would like to remind you that you can report these things to the sheriff. Father York will see to it I am informed as I need to be."

Jimmy nodded and with a slight bow and salute turned and walked to a table with his brothers. Gregor stood to address everyone.

"Is there anyone else new to the city to present to me before I join in the festivities?"

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Originally Posted By: Moira Fitzgerald

"Ah'm flattered, Lavinia - yer very kind ta' compliment me so on somethin' I was truly blessed with. After all, save the clothes we dress ourselves in, one has vera little ta' do with one's appearance.. kinda luck o'the draw, don' ye think? An' while ah'm quite certain Aftiel appreciated the package an' all, I don' think it was really m'looks that drew his attention. Or held it, anyway."

She tilted her head, and smiled sweetly at Lavinia, her voice still as cool and smooth as it had been during the polite reprimand.


Lavinia gave Moira another honeysweet smile and tsked at her somewhat motherly.

"Oh... I'm sure he absolutely ignored your comely shape and gorgeous eyes, Moira. But you can pretend it wasn't, as long as it works out for you I don't mind.", Lavinia even laughed amused at the last part but never averted her eyes from Moira still holding on to her hands.

Originally Posted By: Moira Fitzgerald

"But ah'm not sure what ye' mean, Lavinia. I'd be more than happy ta' consider assistin' ye, if ye can give me a little more info about what ye' need my assistance with."

"Consider" bein' the operative word an' all...


"Sure I will... I just wanted to hear if you'd be interested at all. It's nothing I'd like to discuss right here - too many potential witnesses. What do you say - we meet in private after this fine party and I let you in on my plans.", she looked past Moira and back to the general direction of the procession of new arrivals. Aftiel was somewhere nearby but she couldn't make him out right now.

"But right now we should play our expected parts, Moira. I certainly overheard your little conversation with Aftiel and while I can imagine it was quite amusing for the both of you it's something we won't tolerate. Consider yourself sentenced for a minor boon in return for your inappropriate behaviour. I shall request that minor boon from you unconditionally and any time befitting this slight breach of etiquette of yours accordingly. Alternatively a personal apology on Aftiel's behalf would make me forget this... slip of yours. I leave it up to you.", she smiled a sharks smile at Moira and let go picking up her fan again.

"What say you?"
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Puck's surprise was quickly contained in his expression, though he did give an inquiring look between India and Lord Ezekiel. Once they'd been dismissed and moved a bit away from the Court, he leaned over and whispered, "Any idea what that was about? Do you and the Lord have some history?"

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"That's us," Charlotte said to Natalie, grabbing the shorter girl's shoulder and steering her forward. "Faster we do this, faster we can leave. Don't worry. No one here'll hurt you tonight. And after tonight, we'll just keep our heads down."

She guided Nat over to Gregor and gave a slightly awkward bow.

"Charlotte of the Gangrel, Prince. This is my childe Natalie. Here to pay respects..." She touched her forehead. "And ask your goodwill while we're in your city."

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York had appeared more and more annoyed with each petitioner. Finally he hit his limit.

"Is this city being overrun by unaligned? They cause nothing but trouble Alder Prince. How much of my hounds time is going to be taken up with getting these...these..children out of trouble! I say they should all have to wait at least a month to prove they are not just going to bring anarchy."

York turned and walked out. Two of the Lancea hounds following but Natalie stayed right where she was. Gregor looked him self rather annoyed.

"Well for those new to the city you now have an idea of who you have to deal with before you are brought to me if you break my laws. Bishop Fiscari, I am requiring Arch-Bishop York give a trivial favor to Mr. Puck for such an out burst during what is supposed to be his debut festive event.

Now Charlotte and Natalie of clan Gangrel, are you currently recognized in any other city? Are you currently being hunted by any other Prince? While you are under the protection of this cities laws do you swear to abide by those laws?"

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Charlotte glanced after York with the tightness around her mouth suggesting she was trying very hard not to grin, and mostly succeeding.

"We're not recognized in another city, and we're not being hunted," she recited. "And we'll abide by your laws."

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Aftiel stood near the back of the room where he could keep an eye on Moira and the Prince's retinue. Though his smile never wavered his eyes slowly grew darker. As York left in a huff Aftiel whispered to him self.

"You are wrong Sanctum. This city was peaceful for many years with nothing but Chrone and unaligned. It was you and the Invictus that brought the opportunity for anarchy."

Now he was starting to get in to a foul mood. He looked again over at Moira and Lavinia. His eyes could not help but locking on Moira's fully exposed neck. All Kindred could speak poetry of the greatness and taste of vitae but so few got to enjoy Kindred vitae enough to become truly addicted beyond the need for survival. Aftiel often pitied them. Nothing was greater than the vitae that was infused with the pure supernatural power that kept vampires moving each night. Now he was irritated and hungry and Moira had the gall to come to this with so much exposed skin in such easily bit areas. She of all the Kindred in the city should know better. Come to think of it Lavinia was starting to look quite tasty as well.

Stop you fool. Don't let your self attack the harpy of the city in elysium just because you want a little taste.

He quickly crossed the gap between him and the two women and put his arms almost protectively around Moira's waist. Had he been in better faculties he might have thought that this would be a good time to watch his tongue but now his lips were so close to Moira's neck and he was impatient.

"I thought when the Arch-Bishop had a little fit you always go scurrying after him. Shouldn't you go see to the man Bishop?"

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Moira leaned back against him, plucking her hands smoothly out of Lavinia's grasp. She had already picked up on his current mood, and a touch of annoyance flickered in her eyes briefly. She made it a point to always feed before Elysium so that she kept her wits about her, so the realization that he hadn't done so was both surprising and a bit aggravating. But she hid it behind a casual gesture towards Lavinia and a wry smile.

"Don' be rude, Aftiel - after all, our Lady Harpy here was just remindin' me why we worship our lovely lady Lilith."

She paused for a moment and her expression shifted. She regarded Lavinia with a cool, calculated gaze, her lips pursed faintly in annoyance.

"All the undead Catholics seem ta 'ave lost their sense o' humor. Th' boon'll be fine. But unless yer callin' it in ta' have me meet ye' after the party, ah'm afraid I just remembered a prior engagement. M'deepest apologies, Lady Lavinia. Please excuse us - I wouldn't want ta' burden ye' with 'inappropriate company' any longer'n necessary."

With that she turned and slipped her arm through Aftiel's, leading him off quickly before Lavinia had a chance to respond.

Let the bloody bitch chase after me if she wants ta' punish me fer that one. I didn't say a damned thing 'wrong'.

She led Aftiel quietly out of the courtyard and into the museum proper. A turn right, and then around the corner found them in the section of the museum that housed the works of Mannerist paintings like "Mary Magdalen in Penitence" by El Greco. The further back they proceeded, the earlier the pieces dated, and he knew they were probably traveling to parts of the Nelson that housed the older pre-Christian artifacts that Moira loved. When she spoke she murmured, her voice only barely resonating despite the empty, artwork-lined room. Her voice was half a purr, and half-chastising.. she meant what she said, even if she couldn't help teasing him a little. After all, their little "sessions" weren't anything she didn't enjoy.

"I can't believe ye' didn' feed before Elysium, Aftiel. Ye' have more common sense than that, darlin'."

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India let him lead her away from the Prince and his retinue, her brow creasing slightly in concentration and a slight downward curve forming at the corners of her lips. She whispered back to him, her voice

"Not in the slightest. I don't know him from Adam, William. Or.. do you prefer Puck now, even with me? Either way.. I don' know what the problem could be. Who is he? D' you know him?"

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Had it not been for Charlotte's nudging and gently guiding hand pressed to the small of her back, Natalie might very well have stayed rooted to the spot. Her introduction to the Prince and Father York had not been pleasant...to say the least.

Looking at them, Natalie had seen nothing but rot. An ancient leathery evil stretched across them like a skin. There was nothing human left of them but their forms. And their eyes were brittle and cold. She had felt naked before them. She had felt, with a rising sense of claustrophobia, their stares. Boring into her. Trapping her. And yet, it was not what these creatures were, or even what they had become, that so terrified Natalie. It was the unspoken sentence they laid upon her. Someday, she would become like them. Someday, Natalie would cease to be. She would be as stripped of feeling and emotion as those pale lifeless things masquerading as people.

If Natalie had been able to, she would have pissed herself.

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Aftiel pulled her close. The smile had returned and now his eyes burned with the joy of what he knew was coming. He knew she was mostly joking but for some reason listening to that rant of York's had really set him off. As he spoke his voice took on the cold tone of Aftiel the son of Lillith. Not the joyful laughing near good for nothing vampire most of this city had seen, this was the monster that he truly was.

Is there anything more wonderful then the most powerful blood on earth?

"Perhaps I would be more inclined to feed first thing if you would move in to the cave. I don't like having my most trusted cult member out there in the city where I wouldn't know if something happened to her. You know I could make it comfortable for you. So what is this about a meeting with Foscari?"

He brought his lips down to her neck and despite the hunger slowly and gently let his fangs sink in to a vein. Go too quickly and you might waste some. Also, as always, he had to do everything to make sure he could stop once he had started.

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She let out a soft gasp of pleasure, her head tilting to the side to expose more of her milky-white neck to him.. as if there wasn't enough already, in that dress. She pressed closer to him, and her voice took on a thicker, huskier tone, her faint Irish lilt deepening into a sexy brogue.

"Ach, she wanted me ta' meet her ahf'ter th' party.. somethin' abou' a "personal matter" an' wantin' ta' put me' "natural grace" ta' advantage. An' the harpy all but said ye' picked me fer' m'looks, an' no other reason a'tall."

He heard the small letter "h" in "harpy", and knew she was referring to her in the traditional sense of the word, as opposed to the courtly title.

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A meeting after the party?

She taste so good...focus!

A personal matter of the Lancea's second in command?

Don't have to stop now, she has plenty of Vitae left, she said she already fed.

What is that woman after?

Picked her for her looks!

Aftiel stopped and slowly lifted his head up. Enjoying the look of her right now. It was true she was quite attractive. Perhaps he should mention to Lavinia that he had not even truly examined her beauty until the night he had one of his followers embrace her. On that night pretty or ugly her fate was sealed to death it was only a matter of learning how permanent death had to be. Before her embrace she was just another cultist like any of them. Little mortals who claimed to have faith in his goddess. He would test them, take their blood for rituals, but never really cared for them. Unless they truly proved faithful as this creature before him had done. Her reward for that faith was a immortality to worship the Mother of Storms. Lillith didn't care what you looked like and Aftiel was no different. He couldn't resist but kiss her though. All his followers were his. None had been embraced by him but instead because of him. No matter who their sire was Aftiel was their connection to this life.

He held the kiss for a few moments even allowing some of that precious Vitae to force his blood to run so he could truly feel it. Then he broke it and held her gaze. His voice was still the same commanding tone but the ice had left it. It was almost...tender.

"We will come back to how well you deftly turned away from my statement of moving in fully with the cult. However for now my interest is peaked. You will go to that meeting. I want to know what the little hell bitch is planning. In fact, lets put on a real show."

Aftiel quickly bit her neck again this time a bit more violently to give it a nasty look.

Click to reveal..
(00:14:06) ChatBot: (Davenrell) rolls 5d10 and gets 4,10,2,5,10.

(00:15:07) ChatBot: (Davenrell) rolls 2d10 and gets 6,9.

4 success - victim str (2)

2 lethal damage

"Why don't you have a change of heart from being so pissed with me for 'mishandling' you." Now his smile was a pure grin. "And don't you even think about closing that up before Lavinia gets a chance to click and cluck and tell you how bad of a man I am. Besides, I took enough Vitae that if you healed that up you would probably be pretty hungry."

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Aftiel had long suspected that Moira had adjusted so well to the lack of true, deep, mortal emotions of Kindred life because she had always experienced them so academically in her actual life. She seemed to make it a point to experience everything fully, yet she never seemed to truly feel anything too deeply. Her changes in mood were usually fast, and over with just as quickly. So if anything she seemed to become passionate or angrier faster than many Kindred, just because she was carrying on her learned responses from her mortal years. It meant she didn't always keep her cool as well as she should, but her devotion to Lilith had never faltered, and that was what mattered to Aftiel far more than her social graces anyway.

So she reveled in the physical delight his kiss brought her without mourning the lack of true passion - she'd never really experienced it anyway, other than her studies. And she savored the tenderness in his voice, because she knew it meant he was pleased with her, and that hidden, addicted part of her craved his approval. But at the feel of his teeth on her neck and the sudden pain she felt rip through her body, she let out a gasp of surprise and fright. Aftiel had never done such a thing before, never quite so brutally. As his words died away he could see that Irish temper flare up in her eyes, and with a quick movement, she lifted her hand and slapped him hard across the face. She pressed her lips together angrily as he chuckled, taking her hand and nibbling lightly across her knuckles, not actually breaking any skin this time. She couldn't stay angry at him, and she could feel the chemistry between them, the blood bond that bound her so tightly to him overwhelming the brief surge of indignation and fear.

After a moment she let out a slight huff, more to let him know that she was still annoyed with him than out of any need to breath, and despite the fact that he'd know she was lying. Then she pulled her hand away and walked towards the door, clicking her small black purse open and pulling out an embroidered white handkerchief as she went. She stopped at the door though, turning back towards him, the black lace of her dress circling her dramatically as she stood there, looking at him. She pressed the white linen carefully to her neck to conceal the worst of the wound, and yet draw attention to it at the same time.

"Th' next time ye've got such an inventive plan.. warn me first, ye' bastard."

With that, she turned and left back towards the courtroom, an angry flounce to her step and the linen turning a crimson red where her fingertips pressed it against the mark he'd left on her. She stepped quietly into the room and made her way to a corner of the room, hoping the best way to draw Lavinia would be to act as if she didn't want anyone around. She had a fairly good suspicion that just running up to her, crying about what a bastard Aftiel had been would only serve to tip off the other Kindred's suspicions. Even if at the moment it was kind of true.

Bastard.. ye'd better make it up ta' me later.

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Originally Posted By: Moira Fitzgerald
Moira leaned back against him, plucking her hands smoothly out of Lavinia's grasp. She had already picked up on his current mood, and a touch of annoyance flickered in her eyes briefly. She made it a point to always feed before Elysium so that she kept her wits about her, so the realization that he hadn't done so was both surprising and a bit aggravating. But she hid it behind a casual gesture towards Lavinia and a wry smile.

"Don' be rude, Aftiel - after all, our Lady Harpy here was just remindin' me why we worship our lovely lady Lilith."

She paused for a moment and her expression shifted. She regarded Lavinia with a cool, calculated gaze, her lips pursed faintly in annoyance.

"All the undead Catholics seem ta 'ave lost their sense o' humor. Th' boon'll be fine. But unless yer callin' it in ta' have me meet ye' after the party, ah'm afraid I just remembered a prior engagement. M'deepest apologies, Lady Lavinia. Please excuse us - I wouldn't want ta' burden ye' with 'inappropriate company' any longer'n necessary."

With that she turned and slipped her arm through Aftiel's, leading him off quickly before Lavinia had a chance to respond.


Lavinia sighed as she saw the young kindred leave with her ‘Master’.

Now that went easier than I thought. Excellent. a fiendish smile crossed her face which she quickly tried to hide behind her fan while she took some lazy steps towards the court again watching the tussle of newcomers and partially awkward presentations. At least Puck was doing his best to save the day.

Her eyes briefly followed the two Crones until she saw what they were up to, then she averted her eyes and shook her head with disgust. No manners and no sense of adequacy
 their cause is truly lost.

As she contemplated her next move her eyes found her next ‘victim’ and she set herself in motion carefully navigating through the room like a spider in her web. Before she could get closer though, Moira caught her attention again


Originally Posted By: Moira Fitzgerald

"Th' next time ye've got such an inventive plan.. warn me first, ye' bastard."

With that, she turned and left back towards the courtroom, an angry flounce to her step and the linen turning a crimson red where her fingertips pressed it against the mark he'd left on her. She stepped quietly into the room and made her way to a corner of the room, hoping the best way to draw Lavinia would be to act as if she didn't want anyone around. She had a fairly good suspicion that just running up to her, crying about what a bastard Aftiel had been would only serve to tip off the other Kindred's suspicions. Even if at the moment it was kind of true.

Bastard.. ye'd better make it up ta' me later.


Lavinia waited a moment and then a wicked smile crossed her face – This is too good to be true
, the Sanctified mused and almost had to chuckle as she instantly changed her plans. Glem has to wait for now
.

With determined steps accompanied by the clacking of her high heeled boots on the marble floor Lavinia quickly rejoined the Prince. Her approach was interrupted by an elegant courtsey and appropriate bowing of her head before the Prince perfectly displaying her etiquette.

As soon as she was next to the Prince she dropped the fan and set her eyes on Moira while she spoke loud enough for the present socialelite to hear her words. “A pity if someone happened to loose his temper tonight and hurt a fellow kindred on this sacred ground, wouldn’t you agree, my Prince?”
Keeping her voice in a melodic half mocking volume she added, “Maybe your order to have fun tonight has been taken too literally by the rabble, my Prince. I may be mistaken and I’m sure the Sheriff or one of his hounds can correct me in this matter but I recall the rules of Elysium included a passage about no violence? Puck, my dear – I’m sorry but I need your
 advice.”
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Elsewhere, deep in darkness and shadow, Goro found the person he was looking for, the reason for his attendance at this event. Shrouded in black and standing deep within the blackest shadow the other made no move to step forward and Goro made no request. "I have some interesting information for you," Goro said quietly after showing his sigil and having his contact respond in kind.

"Indeed? Your work in this city continues to impress Kondo Goro. Tell me, what is it you have found?" The other's voice was a whisper of indeterminate sex, the sound both monotonous and somehow pleased.

"The Lady Forscari. York has given her a most daunting task, one for which she has seen fit to come to me for help." The figure made a circular gesture with its black gloved hand; the gesture said without words, get to the point Goro. "It would seem that the Bishop is to locate and retrieve the cup of Christ, the San Greal. If an Arch-Bishop of the Lancea Sanctum believes it real, and obtainable, surely it must be of great value and power."

"Indeed." Interest; a slip of emotion into the voice, Goro caught that as well, filing it away for his own use. "You have done well, continue as you have been, contact me again if you have more information."

Goro nodded and made a curt bow. "I will take my leave then, may your nights be long." Goro moved away quickly, and the figure in the shadow watched the Japanese man go. Goro returned to the party proper and looked around seeing new faces and old. He sighed to himself, and then set out to locate somebody or something to talk to.

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Puck frowned as he was pulled away from his conversation with his childe, but dutifully followed Lavinia's gaze over to Moira's rather irritated form. He sighed and untangled himself from India. He tried to train his voice to lightness, but the burr of irritation at the situation was easy to hear. "Violence is not allowed, Bishop Foscari; however, not all wounds come from violence. I will attend to the matter, my Prince. Please do not let it keep you from the festivities."

He smiled at Madelaine before setting himself in Moira's direction, adding, "Besides, I believe the Lady Madelaine would be quite put out to have her dance delayed again for so trifling a matter."

He strode over to Moira's table, sitting down with his back to the room. His eyes flashed angry and he leaned in to speak quietly enough to at least not advertise their conversation to entire room. "Moira, what are you doing? Baiting Lavinia is one thing, and certainly amusing if you're that bored tonight, but this!" He motioned to the wound, his movements sharp and swift. "Half the Court is strong enough to catch one wind of your vitae and start thinking of you as a walking snack. Are you that naive? Or is Aftiel truly that careless?"

Mercurial as always, his anger switched to concern in a blink; he reached out and caressed her cheek. "Moira, you know how much of monsters we can be. If you're going to play games at a gather, you have to play them carefully, even if that means telling Aftiel no. Do you need blood to heal that?" He sighed, "And do I need to find something to entertain your fearless leader with for the rest of the evening? Maybe buy him a couple of cans of spray paint and point him towards a church to grafiti, if he's so intent on seeing York or Foscari pop a vein this evening."

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As he approached her eyes flickered to Lavinia briefly, then back to Puck as he approached her, the annoyance deepening in her face though he could tell it wasn't directed at him.

That little witch.. o' course she went straight ta' tattle.. damn. At least it's Puck, an' not the Prince raisin' a fit about it.

But as he spoke, he could see realization flicker across her face. Suddenly she could feel their presences, the monsters surrounding her with beasts scarier and far more intimidating than her own. He could see the moment the truth of what he said struck her, as the irritation in her eyes became fear, her fingertips pressing down a little harder on the handkerchief out of habit, in order to actually stop the bleeding the way one would to a mortal whose heart still beat. She nodded faintly at him, her voice a low murmur in response.

"Aye.. I do. An'.. there's more to it than that. Nothin' I wish ta' talk about here. I need ta' get outta here, an' damn Aftiel's orders fer' now. He's hardly thinkin' straight t'night, it seems, an' I was fool enough to play along, too."

She stood up as he offered his hand, taking it with the one that wasn't holding the linen pressed firmly to her neck. She let him lead her out of the main courtyard area, attempting to ignoring the discreet glances and hungry, intrigued stares she was receiving from many of the Kindred present at the gathering. She trusted Aftiel, and she wasn't such a fool that she didn't not realize he played with the mock emotions that echoed between them from her to him because of their bond. But the fear Puck had instilled in her overrode that for now, allowing common sense to take hold.

"I hate these political games, Puck.. it's not how I best serve our Lady, an' Aftiel knows it. Why do I let him draw me inta' it all?"

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Walking back to towards the main room Aftiel contemplated following Lavinia and Moira. If he kept a good distance he could go unnoticed. Then again that could just ruin everything. He would just have to exercise some patience. As he rounded a corner he saw Moira and Puck walking down the hallway away and a brief flash of annoyance came over him. Why was Puck interfering? Then with a sigh he realized there was little point in being mad at Puck for caring. He did not send Moira in there looking too good. Surely though Puck would have known Aftiel would not have let any real harm come to her. Still, it may not have been the best move. Aftiel sighed, he did need to make this up to the girl. He would give her a pick from his rare books, that would make her happy.

What did Lavinia want from her? Guillermo had made it clear to Gregor and York that the crone would play nice as long as the Lancea stayed out of their business. Aftiel had made it clear his business was his cult. Was Lavinia trying to provoke him? If that was her goal she had succeeded tonight though she probably had been hoping for something a little more public. Most of them seemed to think Aftiel could be forced in to social awkwardness easily. Better they think less of him then more as far as he was concerned.

He looked towards the main room then decided against that. Moira would probably want the night to calm down. He pulled out his phone and sent her a text saying he was sorry and she knew where to find him and silently went to the entrance. He found the first ghoul and asked for his weapons and stood and waited until they were retrieved.

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Natalie gave a slight sigh of boredom. She wondered if her two fellow hounds would soon realize that in their attempt to be loved they had forgotten their duties tonight to watch the party. Men had so little sense. Seeing no need to be Gregor's shadow she politely excused her self from the group. Walking out she approached about the only other person she really knew.

"Priest Goro, good evening. Care to join me? I was going to go over and speak to the new gangrel, Clem I think was the name. He seems a interesting sort."

Now that Gregor had seen no one else coming to present them selves he turned to Madeline and offered her his hand to dance. It seemed that even he was going to attempt to enjoy the evening. As he offered, Lord Ezekial in his greatest polite Invictus fashion also offered a dance to Lavinia. Though he would not be surprised if she turned him down. Many people had trouble being so close to nosferatu.

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The sounds had been troubling her for quite some time. Wings flapping in the night air, like a large predatory owl or other large bird. She had attempted to follow it for a bit, crushing out her cigarillo and moving about the interior of the main hall for a few moments only to stop and catch herself. Her curiosity was getting the better of her and she knew it.

No, no... what ever it is this is not the night to butting my nose in others' affairs, personal or otherwise.She reminded herself as she made a note in her Smartphone. With another unneeded sigh she decided to wander about a bit...

Click to reveal..
Ravenna is in motion through out the party at this point. If anyone would like to meet her they'll unfortunately need to approach her as she's not the social type who willingly places herself in situations where she might want tear the throat out of some pompous fool who thinks they far more important than they really are.
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Puck snagged one of the mortals about the museum as they headed toward the courtyard, pulling the twenty-something looking young man with them by the expedient measure of wrapping an arm around his his hips. He smiled at the two Kindred until he spotted the linen, frowning at the thought that someone had hurt a friend of his and the family's. "Moira, you alright?"

Puck leaned over and murmured to him, "She needs a bite, Sascha. Make her feel better, hmmmn?"

He nodded and untangled himself from his patriarch to transfer his affections over to the irritated but always beautiful Moira. As with most things that involved Puck, Sascha approached her with an eager sensuality and abandon to the moment; he let her decide how she would take the blood she so obviously needed, but made it obvious that he'd enjoy every moment of it. Puck leaned against one of the pillars of the building, waiting for her to be done and pondering her question.

"I think maybe Lavinia just got under his skin. Unusual, but we can get pretty high strung when we cram all of us and our personal demons into one space and demand everyone play 'nice' for the evening." His eyes flicked over to Sascha, though Moira knew he didn't really keep secrets from his mortal family. "You want to talk now, or is it something that shouldn't be brought up at Elysium?"

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Moira shook her head to indicate that it would be fine, but before she spoke she sat down on the bench of the deserted gallery they had stepped into. The lighting in the room was muted, bright enough to observe the paintings but dim enough that the lights accentuated the tenebrism of Caravaggio's "St. John the Baptist in the Wilderness", a depiction of the prophet so moody and sensual that Moira half-believed a fellow Kindred must have sat for it - surely such grace and beauty was inhuman, especially in a rendition of such a pious man. It made her lips twitch with amusement to consider whether the Lancea hated the painting, or loved it.

She motioned Sascha towards her, and he sat down on the bench as Moira gently pulled the linen away from her neck. The ghoul let out a slight gasp of surprise at the severity of the wound, but Moira smiled softly at him, and reached up to run her hand over his neck and through his hair. He sighed wistfully, letting his head tip back and away as the red-haired beauty slowly pressed her sharp fangs into the sensitive skin of his neck. She sucked gently for several long moments, keeping the sensation slow and pleasurable for him. Moira might be a Mekhet, and carried a love of knowledge and secrets and hidden wisdom that rivaled the best of them. But she had been trained in the art of being Kindred by Aftiel, and that had included a certain amount of time with more graceful monsters, ones like Puck and his hedonistic followers. She approved of their methods, while she wasn't quite as as caught up in the more sensual pleasures of death as often as the rest of them might be, she still appreciated the desire to make the experience as pleasant as possible, and had usually loathed feeding on the unwilling, or the unknowing.

Finally she pulled back, her lips pressing softly to the side of his neck and then lightly on his cheek before whispering in his ear.

"Thank ye', darlin'. Ye' taste lovely, as always..."

She pulled back then and dabbed the skin of her neck to wipe away the blood from the now healed-over spot where the wound had been.

"'Tis nothin' Lavinia 'erself did'na bring up 'ere herself, so I see no reason not to, especially ta' ye. She wanted somethin' from me.. hinted that I could acquire it with my 'charms', whatever that means. As far as I could tell, she was talkin' about m' appearance, I think. Or m' fashion sense."

She rolled her eyes slightly in annoyance as Puck imagined what that must have gone over like - Lavinia trying to appeal to Moira's 'feminine charms' as opposed to her intellect, or knowledge. It would have been funny if it hadn't led to the current situation.

"I told 'er no, o'course. But once ah mentioned it ta' Aftiel, he decided he wanted me ta' accept her instead. Ta' figure out what she was wantin' of me. Decided ta' do this.." She motioned briefly to her lovely, pale, now unmarred neck. "..in order ta' make it look like we'd fought. I did'na.. expect it. As if the harpy has a sense of compassion, or somethin'. I don' know what he was thinkin' - we should know better."

She heard the faint buzz of her purse, and pulled out her sleek nod to modern times, a touchscreen smartphone with a slide-open qwerty keypad. She texted something back briefly, then sent it and slid the keypad closed.

NP, darlin - but she tried to get us in trouble with HRH, and it was too dangerous for me to stick around like that. Puck ran interference for me. Hope you're not angry. I'll do what I can later.

She couldn't help it.. she even texted in full sentences. At least she was learning a couple abbreviations.

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Originally Posted By: Puck
Puck frowned as he was pulled away from his conversation with his childe, but dutifully followed Lavinia's gaze over to Moira's rather irritated form. He sighed and untangled himself from India. He tried to train his voice to lightness, but the burr of irritation at the situation was easy to hear. "Violence is not allowed, Bishop Foscari; however, not all wounds come from violence. I will attend to the matter, my Prince. Please do not let it keep you from the festivities."


„Of course, my dear Puck.“, Lavinia smiled at him and gave him a nod to dissmiss him to fulfill his duty. There he goes to the rescue


Lavinia sighed and used her fan to get some fresh air as she patiently waited before she would make her next step.

Originally Posted By: Daven
Now that Gregor had seen no one else coming to present them selves he turned to Madeline and offered her his hand to dance. It seemed that even he was going to attempt to enjoy the evening. As he offered, Lord Ezekial in his greatest polite Invictus fashion also offered a dance to Lavinia. Though he would not be surprised if she turned him down. Many people had trouble being so close to nosferatu.


Her eyes were searching for Clem when she heard Lord Ezekial addressed her in all formality to dance with her. Of course she would oblige and she politely courtsied at the Invictus but keeping her head straight and proud meeting his unsettling eyes. Deep inside her beast revolted and rattled it’s chains and Lavinia felt her fangs slightly elongating in response – she’d be polite


„I’d be delighted to accept, Lord Ezekial.“, she said with a slight smile as she led him guide her to the dance floor. The Daeva beauty closed her eyes as she gave herself in to the music shaking off some of the uneasyness the Nosferatu caused through his mere presence.

As the music ended Lavinia gracefully bowed to the Lord and excused herself. She quickly retreated from the scene obviously in search of someone until she found her ‚victim’.

She approached the table keeping a respectful distance as she raised the fan with the flick of her wrist to partially hide her face.

„Sir Broson? I hope you don’t mind some company?“
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Ankles crossed up on the table and hands behind his head, Clem had spotted the elaborately-dressed vampiress as she had started to approach him. Blue and russet eyes studying Lavinia from a pleasantly-neutral face, the Gangrel waiting until she was ten feet away before dropping his booted feet to the floor and rising.

"Ma'am, I'd be honoured." he told her with a charming smile that had more than a hint of rogue to it. "But please, I don't need no 'sir' or 'mister' from you. You can just call me Clem. Or Clement, if y'all is feelin' formal." His eyes met Lavinia's over the fan as he stepped gracefully around the table to pull out a chair for her. "Permit me to assist you?"

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Lavinia dropped her fan and let herself be assisted by Clement to a seat next to him. He could tell by her smile that this was a genuine reaction of hers. She really appreciated the “old school” etiquette. “How pleasant to meet a connaiseur of good manners and etiquette. An educated savage – a pity that this quality seems to be almost extinct amongst the Kindred of this time.”

The Prince’s Harpy reclined on the chair with a sigh and let her eyes wander around the scenery. “I apologize in advance Mr. Broson but it’ll take some time before I feel acquainted enough to call you just Clement. I do hope you forgive me this lack of adaptability on my behalf – old habits die hard.”, she raised an eyebrow at him with a playful smile and leaned a bit closer to him to keep the conversation as private as possible.

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Being considered insane by the majority (or entirety) of the Kindred had its advantages. Goro affected a confused look as he wandered out of the museum and back to the party. One of the hounds, a lovely young lady by all appearances, came up to him.

Originally Posted By: Daven_OOC NPCRM #1
"Priest Goro, good evening. Care to join me? I was going to go over and speak to the new gangrel, Clem I think was the name. He seems a interesting sort."

"Huh?" He looked around and smiled with a slightly surprised look on his face, "Oh, hello dear. No, not a priest. Perhaps my status allows it but myself I prefer not. Just an old man with too many years hanging on his mind." He looked around, "Yes. The cowboy? He seemed passable enough, though his weapons, my but they were interesting, and the story one of them ..." he trailed off as she noticed the look of pity and distaste on her face. "Have I said something dear? Let's go shall we?" he offered her his arm and leaning heavily on the cane, affecting more age than he even had right to claim, they made their way to the newcomer.

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"That's entirely your pref'rence, ma'am." Clem retook his own chair, slouching with boneless grace as he returned Lavinia's playful smile. "And as for the manners, why it's just my way. 'Manners rob the undertaker of work', as they used to say when I still drew breath. I'd hardly call myself educated though, beggin' your pardon." He grinned at her, the handsome youth of his features at odds with the cool reserve of those mismatched eyes. He leaned closer to the Daeva, mirroring her privacy-seeking body language.

"So what is it that has a lovely lady like yourself seekin' out a 'savage' like myself, ma'am?"

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Using her Fan as a miniature paravent to ensure their privacy Lavinia spoke with a low voice, „My Prince ordered us to have fun tonight so I fear my intentions have to wait for some time later tonight or maybe another night. We could talk business of course, if you want – assuming that means having fun for you. In that case I’m just obliging.“

Tilting her head somewhat closer to Clem she chuckled and smiled sharklike, „And I thought you’d be dodging bullets for a while. I like your bravado. I could have interesting proposals for a man of such quality.“

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"Bishop Foscari, you are truly evil for trying to monopolize our new resident."

Natalie and Goro approached the table her arm through his. Once they got there she pulled out a chair for her elder before sitting down in her own. Her eyes stayed fixed on Clem and her face showed a open curiosity that only marked how young she was.

"A man like you seems like he would have all sorts of interesting stories to tell about where he came from."

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The arrival of Goro and his young escort prompted a shift in Clem's posture as he leaned back in his seat once more, breaking the intimate circle-for-two he had formed with Lavinia. If he felt any disappointment or irritation at their arrival, he masked it perfectly, nodding amiably to Goro and regarding Natalie with an easy smile on his handsome lips.

"Well now." he began with a slow drawl. "I wouldn't like to brag, miss. Especially in front of two pretty ladies and a respectable gentleman." He chuckled suddenly. "Aww, heck. Who'm I kiddin', anyways? Especially when there's those present that like my bravado." He gave Lavinia an impish wink, one corner of his mouth curving mischievously.

"To tell the truth though, little lady, I wasn't born all that far away from here. Of course, it was a different sorta land back then." He tilted his head at the young Hound, still smiling. "I don't believe we been introduced, miss. Name's Clem Broson."

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"Natalie Price, Priest of the Lancea. Though you should never feel the need to stand on ceremony for me. It seems to me that kindred women just get stodgy and can't get away from protocol or what they consider "manners" as they get older. If that is the case I am happy to let people know I am still young and perfectly capable of having a good time."

Returning his smile she glanced between him and Lavinia.

"So what were you two discussing?"

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Originally Posted By: Daven_OOC NPCRM #1
"Bishop Foscari, you are truly evil for trying to monopolize our new resident."


"I'm only fulfilling my Prince's wish - he specifically asked us to enjoy ourselves tonight and I'm more than willing to oblige.", Lavinia answered with a slightly annoyed undertone in her voice. Unfortunately the two Sanctified came closer obviously wanting to join this conversation which she was starting to enjoy... alone.

Originally Posted By: Daven_OOC NPCRM #1

Returning his smile she glanced between him and Lavinia.

"So what were you two discussing?"


"Natalie...", Lavinia pronounced her name with an Italian accent and then drew an exaggerated breath while she shook her head with disappointment. Then she raised an eyebrow at the young Priestess and pointed with the fan at her like a teacher would with a pointer. "I can't express my pleasure enough to let you know what I was about to discuss with our new guest here but it seemed to have slipped my mind the moment I heard your lovely voice. I suppose I've taken the Prince's word to literally?", she reclined on her chair and lifted the fan to her face and opened it again practically hiding behind it. The sharp observer would've noticed that she had turned the backside of the fan to Natalie with an elaborate motion, almost as if she wanted to give some kind of sign to the younger kindred.
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Puck nodded, still lounging mostly relaxed now against the pillar. "He's right, you should find out what she's up to. She's about as subtle as a frying pan to the back of the head; giving her chances to give her secrets away or embarrass herself is never a waste of time." He quirked a grin at her, "If nothing else than the eternal hope that Gregor will at least strip her position, even if he won't kick her out of the city."

He motioned Sascha over and kissed him briefly but deeply before sending the mortal back into the museum; there was a room set aside with food and non iron-based drinks for those of the family that were 'tapped' for the night. Moira watched Puck watch Sascha walking away. How was it that this particular Daeva could make even the most absent-minded of actions seem like it should be rated at least PG-17? His focus swung back to her, blue eyes serious.

"Do you want to go back in? I need to make sure no one's set fire to a tapestry or challenged our Prince to duel or something. Besides, there are a number of new faces about tonight, and I'd like to get a feel for them before they get smeared with local politics." He was mostly business now, and offered a gentlemanly arm to his sometimes-lover. "I want to introduce you to India, too. I think the two of you will get along. I expect you to help her seduce Aftiel."

The grin was back and eternity was once again nothing more than an endless fĂȘte.

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