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Inventor
#976 Old 17th Dec 2007 at 8:53 PM
Andre and Aeode - Outside Club Envy

“What, that's it?” Aeode hissed, flipping a hand angrily through the air. “Find Jessica? Should I just go grab the phonebook and look up every single Jessica in the United States?”

Andre suppressed a snort of irony, as if Jessica would even be in the phonebook. Glancing at Aeode's face he sighed, shaking his head. He wanted to tell her more, but he was already toeing the line with just this information. Aeode's voice turned cold and calculated.

“I'm going to make this very simple. If you know anything and you can help me – swell! I'd most certainly appreciate it. But if you think this is some sort of game you can play with me, you are highly mistaken, and I'll walk away right now. So, what' ll it be, Andre?”

Andre growled slightly in annoyance, cuffing a trashcan nearby. "You don't understand." He said quietly,Ununciating each word as he paced up and down the alley like a caged wildcat. " I can't tell you anymore without putting us both in danger." Running his hand repetitively through his loose hair,His dark gaze implored Aeode to understand, but it was understandable that she was so upset. All those years of not know anything and now she knew just enough to be unhelpful. You should have just lied and said you didn't know Andre scolded himself.

Lowering himself with less than his normal elegance to the ground he shot a tired look at Aeode. Her face remained disappointed and angry. " Her name is Jessica, she saver your life but she doesn't want you to know." Andre said with a hiss of breath. "Please believe me, I wish I could tell you more but I can't; its to dangerous."
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#977 Old 18th Dec 2007 at 10:41 PM
(((ooc: Just figured I'd say that Adrien is now once again approachable. )))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
#978 Old 19th Dec 2007 at 12:19 AM
((ooc: I think I can hear the crickets in here. ))
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#979 Old 19th Dec 2007 at 12:37 AM
(((ooc: Yeah, no kidding. This has gone from being pretty active to being completely deserted. )))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
#980 Old 19th Dec 2007 at 8:05 AM
((OOC Guys I'm really sorry. I'm back home for a few days but life is still really hectic hell so I probably wont have chance to post anything until after Xmas.
I've not even finished reading everyone's amazing posts! But I will try and get an RP in ASAP))
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#981 Old 19th Dec 2007 at 3:46 PM
Default Valerian
(((ooc: Alright... I was hoping trampled would get a chance to get a reply in, but as she's MIA, I'm moving on, in order to try and keep this thread alive. )))


Lost in the sweet sensation of Vevila in his arms, of her body flowing effortlessly along with his, as light as a feather, one waltz easily turned into another, and would just as easily have turned into yet a third, hadn't Valerian's gaze ever so briefly returned to Beyonca and Adrien, and caught their chilly parting. As the hunter started moving away from the beautiful Ventrue, Valerian noticed that the look on his face was that of smugness, that he was smirking to himself, as if he was very much satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. And yet on the other hand, Beyonca seemed completely unfazed, and simply started moving in the opposite direction, exuding nothing but a calm that bordered on indifference.
It all piqued Valerian's interest, as he wasn't sure what to make of it. Had Adrien gotten to Beyonca, and she was just keeping a straight face, like any Ventrue was likely to do? Or had they actually had a pleasant conversation? Was the smugness on Adrien's face simply derived from triumph over having had a peaceful encounter with one of the Kindred, right infront of the rest, who most likely all wanted him dead, and not from having caused Beyonca any grief or annoyance?
He hadn't witnessed the way Adrien had drawn closer to her, and how her temper had briefly flared, and so wasn't aware that her current calm hadn't been ever present.

However, seeing the two of them go their seperate ways wasn't what held Valerian back from keeping Vevila in his arms for yet another dance. It was the fact that when he glanced around to see what was written on the faces of the others at the end of this most unexpected encounter, he saw not only displeasure aimed at Adrien and Beyonca, but some aimed at him and Vevila as well. Not surprisingly, it seemed quite a few of the other men wanted the chance of inviting Vevila to dance, while some of the women were waiting for a chance to become the next in line of dancing with Valerian.
And so, when the very last few notes of their second waltz ebbed away, Valerian reluctantly let go of his precious fellow Toreador.

"I'm afraid I cannot with good conscience steal you away from your other admirerers any longer", he smiled softly, and gave another elegant bow. "It would be most selfish of me not to share the pleasure of your company."

With that he reached for her hand and once again planted his soft lips gently on her knuckles, before letting go and backing away, flashing her a smile that promised that he would soon come looking for her again.
But first, he would find out more about Adrien de la Cour. As he felt like somewhat of a protective brother to Vevila, he simply had to find out what to expect from the hunter, should Vevila brave the risk of facing him. Although he wouldn't do what Beyonca had done, and approach him, even though that was probably the best way to learn about him. And he had toyed with the idea, as he very much shared Vevila's curiousity. But the somewhat hostile glances Beyonca was recieving for having talked to Adrien, put him off.
There were other ways. One of them was in fact named Beyonca, and had just slipped out the back.

Valerian hesitated momentarily, unsure of whether or not he should follow. Ducking outside, and into the back alley no less, could be a sign that she wanted to be alone. And Valerian didn't wish to disrupt anyone who sought such solitude. Then on the other hand, she could just be seeking the clarity brought by the evening air, and a little more space than what was currently offered in the crowded ball room.
Though he did take his time following her, stopping to exchange a few words and greetings with friends here and there along the way, allowing her a few minutes alone first, just in case.
Eventually, he did reach the back door, and although he was careful when stepping outside, he did make sure to make a few faint noises, so that she would hear him coming and not be startled. If she was even still there. For all he knew, she could've had her mind set on leaving, and simply decided to slip away discreetly by exiting the back, instead of leaving through the main entrance where everyone was sure to see.
But upon closing the door behind him, he found that she was indeed still there. Leaning her back against the wall, with a highly amused smile on her face.
Relieved to find her in what seemed like a good mood, Valerian allowed his lips to part in a small smile as well, although it wasn't one of amusement, but rather his usual, soft and gentle one, that had made the hearts of many mortal women skip a beat.

"Am I intruding?" he asked, the velvety softness of his low, husky voice offering a sharp contrast to the sound of L.A.'s busy nightlife.



(((ooc: innoscent - Hope you don't mind. )))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
#982 Old 19th Dec 2007 at 4:32 PM
((Thats fine Atropa. She doesnt mind the company. I will have a rp up later. ))
Alchemist
#983 Old 19th Dec 2007 at 5:23 PM
((ooc: don't worry guys, it's the Holiday season, threads always slow down then. It'll pick up again afterwards, I'm sure, this RP's too good to stop ;] ))

Moira with Damian, at the Ball

"You have indeed chosen to join us in the most interesting of times"

No doubt about that, Moira mused privately as the melody carried both her and Damian in ever widening circles across the glistening marble floor, as effortlessly as though their feet were merely gliding. The Prince was a skilled dancer whose strictly traditional steps accommodated well most partners, Moira was pleased to discover; her style lacked none of the required grace, but it was, perhaps, a touch bolder than the established norm– a casual observer would not have noticed the difference, but an experienced eye might have caught the subtle brazenness that accompanied the Toreador's movements: Moira's hips swayed sensuously and purposefully, the hem of her gown billowing around her ankles as a flurry of coppery red hair fanned around her shoulders with each twirl, feet falling in place where Damian's had been a second earlier.

It was indeed fortunate that both Moira and Damian were skilled dancers, which meant they could simply allow the melody to guide them across the room, while their minds were obviously focused on much less mundane issues. The Toreador had no doubts that a Ventrue like this Prince was always keen to read between the lines, what she had observed of his nature thus far suggested it – it was, if anything, what Moira hoped. She did not travel so far often, yet the Old World had grown stale to her, like a beautiful garden that no longer offered satisfaction when one knew every leaf, or had walked every path...and it was filled with bad memories, too many memories. Five centuries and a half invariably brought about stagnation, and that was indeed the bane of any Toreador: becoming empty, blasé, weary of everything. Boredom would have been a too shallow term to describe it: Final Death was, perhaps, preferable.

"How long, if I may ask, will we have the pleasure of your company?"

Ah yes, they seemed to pick up on eachothers' hints easily, Moira noted and a slight smile passed over her lips. Of course, one could have interpreted the comment as a simple courtesy without ulterior motives, and indeed perhaps she did not know the Prince well enough to simply assume the opposite, but it never had Moira shrunk from any challenge.

“I haven't decided yet,” she replied. “I prefer to take my time, and experience everything Los Angeles has to...offer. The London Toreador are always in the care of my most excellent Whip(ooc: Primogen's assistant for those who don't know the term), and times are peaceful there now that the Sabbat is finally at bay, which gives me the confidence my duties are not being disregarded. After all, a visit rushed is half the time wasted.”

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Aeode and Andre - Outside Club Envy



Having set the terms of any future conversation, Aeode braced herself for the outcome: she fully expected an angry rebuke, or perhaps an apathetic shrug: being as combatant as she had trained herself to be sometimes brought about unpleasant consequences. It didn't matter; in fact, she would have welcomed an open conflict in that moment, an outlet for the rage which bubbled in her veins, poisoning her mind.

"You don't understand. I can't tell you anymore without putting us both in danger."

Aeode made no effort to concel a sigh dripping with sarcasm, though if one had paused to study her face even as she did so, a brief shadow of doubt passed over her eyes: every fiber in her being screamed for caution, her mind delivering warning after warning to not trust anything a stranger like him had to say, to simply turn away and leave and never give this ridiculous affair another thought.

Despite all this, Aeode did not move, her emerald eyes following Andre's angry strides up and down the street, unable to keep a feeling of doubt from creeping in her soul: his distress seemed genuine, and while Aeode would naturally first assume it was just an elaborate show, she found difficult to pinpoint a reason for it: unless Andre was an exceptionally disturbed man who would be prepared to go to such lengths for the sake of a tasteless joke, what reason did he have to deceive her?

" Her name is Jessica, she saved your life but she doesn't want you to know. Please believe me, I wish I could tell you more but I can't; its too dangerous."

Dangerous, dangerous...Andre's words made little sense to Aeode, who knew that as far as she was concerned, she was prepared to face whatever consequences meeting this Jessica would have: she did not fear for herself, confident in the excellent combat shape she was in, and there were few things imaginable that were more horrid than what she had experienced as a young girl. Andre, however, seemed seized by fear, real, palpable fear – Aeode could not deny it. As someone who knew fear well, she recognized that haunted look.

Despite her better judgment, Aeode lowered herself on the sidewalk at the man's level and looked him straight in the eyes in that unblinking, withering way of hers whenever she was deadly serious about something:

“What are you afraid of?” she asked him in a tone full of determination, but much warmer than before. “Look, nobody ever has to know about this conversation, I won't involve you if that's your worry. I'm a big girl, I can handle whoever's out there, trust me on that one. I just need an address, or a phone number, I'll put the pieces together myself.”

Suddenly, Aeode's eyes widened in revelation as something dawned upon her, something that made most sense:

“Is the reason why you're so afraid that Jessica is one of the people involved in my family's murder?”


If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
#984 Old 19th Dec 2007 at 7:01 PM
Default Bee and Valerian
Beyonca rested her head against the wall and relaxed the rest of the tension in her. Letting go of the restlessness that lay in her. It took everything she had not to go to Adrien again. She was aching to see what runs threw his head. And still he hadnt answered her question. Though she doubted that he would come after her. But tonight wasnt the night to push further. Exspecially in front of all the kindred. Which brought her to the thought of her Primogen.

He was surely to be irrate over this. What would he do? Forbid her to talk to him again? Of course that would be after the lashing. It should have been her first priority to greet him, yet she went to Adrien first. That was very rude of her. It actually made her heart sink to think she could have done that. But it was to late to take back what she had done. Even if she begged for forgivness from him, she was unlikely to get it. He had probably heard of the insident with Ada, and she would be hearing about that. But she just added another thing to the matter. He probably thought of her as a trouble maker, when she wasnt like that at all. How could she let all this happen. It brought a relization that she more than likey deserves any punishment that was thrown her way from him.

The sound of the back door opening brought her back from her thoughts. She hadnt really exspected anyone to come out here even though everyone knew she was here. She couldnt help but notice everyones eyes follow her and Adrien where they went next.

"Am I intruding?"

It was warm tone. It sounded like pure silk leaving his lips. Bee knew who it was instatly before she turned to him. It was Valerian. His voice was one of a kind. One could fall for him with just the enticement of his voice. But his looks, could drop a mortal man or women to his or her knees. She turned to face him, a small accepting smile on her ruby lips. Which one greeted by his usuall breath taking smiles.

"Valerian. No you are not intruding at all. It is pure pleasure to be in your company."

She woundered why he would be out her with her instead of in the ball enjoying himself. Was it to scold her or make sure she was alright? Or was it more that he wanted to know about Adrien?

"I hope you are enjoying yourself tonight. I couldnt help but notice your dance with Vevilia, It was quite breath taking to say the least. What do I owe for the pleasure of your presence?"
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#985 Old 20th Dec 2007 at 12:33 AM
Default Damian & Moira
A trend followed in the wake of Damian's and Moira's entry on the dance floor. It seemed many had kept an eye on him during Adrien's entrance and brief conversation with Beyonca, waiting for him to show any sign of how he would choose to deal with the situation. When he simply turned his attention away from Adrien and instead invited Moira to dance, it was as if a silent signal had been given. While some did continue to follow Adrien's every move, many followed Damian's initiative instead, and joined the few couples already floating across the dance floor. And yet even with this sudden influx of moving bodies and the crowding that came with it, Damian and Moira did not once bump into another couple. With what seemed like no effort at all, Damian always managed to elegantly steer her away from any signs of a possible collision, without even slightly disrupting the flow of their movements. Though it was as much thanks to her talent, as it was to his. She possessed a skill that went far beyond competing with his; it was the kind of skill that made him look good, simply because they moved as one, like partners that had danced together for years and knew every step the other would take long before they took it. And the enticing, downright seductive femininity with which she moved only brought out his own virile masculinity. Gliding across the floor, light steps carrying them swiftly, there were moments when they seemed to personify their very genders, like the two main characters of a beautiful fairytale, the very epitome of man and woman. The strong and noble warrior, and the fair and aerial maiden.

"I haven't decided yet", she said in response to his question. "I prefer to take my time, and experience everything Los Angeles has to... offer. The London Toreador are always in the care of my most excellent Whip, and times are peaceful there now that the Sabbat is finally at bay, which gives me the confidence my duties are not being disregarded. After all, a visit rushed is half the time wasted."

Ah, a most pleasing answer to the Prince's ears. The longer she stayed, the more he would get to know her. Because he would get to know her, of that he was certain. It was a decision he had made the moment she had revealed herself as something out of the ordinary, a Toreador not quite fitting the Toreador frame. And what Damian wanted, Damian got. One way or another.
The waltz had been the first step, to confirm his first impression, or to prove it wrong. But he was not disappointed. Talking to Moira was turning out to be as much of a pleasure as dancing with her. In conversation, she followed his lead just as easily as she did in the dance, and just as knowingly, moving purposefully in the very same direction as he was. She was proving to be a most intriguing new acquaintance, holding a beauty, an allure, hiding a sharp and quite possibly dangerous intellect.
In fact, she reminded him a bit of another woman, a certain someone that had been the target of quite a few glances on Damian's part this evening. Yes. She had an intellect that reminded him of Mina. Which would explain why it appealed to him.
As his thoughts touched the Tremere Primogen that was the cause of a most rare feeling in him - warmth - so did his gaze. He had yet to talk to her this evening, and invite her to that dance he had had planned for the past couple of nights. She hadn't had a free moment since setting foot at the ball. Nor had he, for that matter. But, all in due time. Damian was a man that prided himself with many virtues. Patience was most definately one of them.
And so, first things first.

"Well then", he said as he turned his eyes back to lock with Moira's and sent her into yet another quick and elegant spin. "I hope that like me, you'll find that the City of Angels has a great many things to offer. The possibilities are endless, to those who are looking. This is the land of opportunities, after all."

Another hint, although this time not quite as subtle. Far from obvious, as was always Damian's style, but still just a little bit more blunt than usual. Flattery, plain and simple, allowing her to know that she had piqued his interest, and quite possibly pried open the door to his willingness to do business.


(((ooc: Will have to RP Valerian tomorrow.
veldagia - It's fine. Take your time.
Ghanima - Yeah, I know. But I also know that when an RP dies down, it can be really difficult to bring it back to life again.)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Field Researcher
#986 Old 20th Dec 2007 at 1:57 AM
Default Carmilla & Beyonca (& Adrien) - The Ball
#27 [Sixth Night]

When Carmilla had tried to change the subject, she studied Beyonca's face for a clue as to whether Beyonca knew something she couldn't know or not. But her beautiful face told Carmilla nothing out of the ordinary. Actually, it told her less than what it had done just a moment ago. Maybe she was just imagining things, building castles and pits of hell out of a fantasy fetus. What ever it was, it had to stop. Beyonca didn't know. She couldn't know. It was that easy. Carmilla was just a little afraid, as this was her first time in a social gathering whitout her Sire. No one could tell her what the next step should be, but after all, this was what she had been longing for, for so long. She had to stand tall, and face what ever was thrown into her path.

And this was just a minor problem.

"Thank you very much", Beyonca replied to her compliment. "And you too look quite beautiful tonight. You have chosen well for a dress. It suits you well."

Carmilla smiled softly, like a little girl, and took a quick glance down on her dress. Another flash formed in her head, a new tale from within began to play. Although there was silence, there was music. And it was not the waltz in the banquet hall, but a sinister tune from a broken flute. She saw herself standing in a big pool of sparkling blood; more beautiful than menacing. The floor was not a floor at all, but a scruffy surface covered with powder snow. All around her, dead trees stood proudly, cloaked in a moonlit night with stars hanging heavy in the sky. As if they all were to shoot over the empyrean fields above. An additional source of light became apparent. Behind her a lit de parade was set on fire, like a native american burial, but it gave her peace of mind. As if all her worries were layed to rest. In the ancient times, from where they came. Her sorrow, her painful dreams and her torment. Of course, they had to be buried where they had been born, in a place where no happiness could be derived. And even so, the place made Carmilla happy. She was happy to have it take from her, rather than to give, and thus make place for a lighter age. The age of Carmilla le Fanu.

Yes. Her blood had such tales to tell. Stories of who she was and - she hoped - would become.

It seemed as if Beyonca's attention got stolen, by whispers around them. It had only been a few seconds, since she had complimented on Carmilla's dress, and now she turned her head to hear what travelled through the grapevine. It must be something very interesting, or important. Even though the Kindred could gossip like any kine, this buzz that now reached the two women was unlike anything Carmilla had experienced. It moved fast, was told with intensity and chocked most of them. Carmilla heard it too. The legend of Adrien de la Cour. And she was appalled. The hunter, the very being that had served as their chimera, had become one of them. He was a monster so horrible it was too brutal to be true. Carmilla had often wondered if the Kindred had gone mad, when she had heard the stories. Could there be such a man, neither kine nor Kindred, killing them off as if he had been born to do just that? She had never really known what to believe, even if her Sire had said it was true. To Carmilla, the stories seemed unbelievable at times, regardless of she herself being a part of a supernatural universe. It was indeed that very fact that made her doubt. Who was this man, that could kill not only a Kindred here and there, but any Kindred, from any clan, and plenty of them? It didn't seem to matter what lineage one belonged to, in order to be victimized. Was he a god? Who else could kill the masters, the rulers of darkness. Maybe it was Carmilla's shielded existance that made her question, as she had not been prone to venture the world as any other Kindred. Maybe it was her upbringing, as she had been under the impression no one could surpass them. The Kindred were the head of the evolution. And if anyone could kill of the finest creature in the creation, it could mean only three things, in no particular order. One, it had to be a god. Two, it had to be a creature that would eventually exceed them if it bore an offspring. Three, he was one of a kind - a freak of nature here to taunt them. A provocation from mother nature, a tease infront of the savage Beast inside the heart of every single Kindred.

Carmilla appreciated irony, and the finest there of. A vampire hunter turned into a Kindred; irony indeed. But if there would be a punch line at all, he had to be the latter. A joke conjured by the earth, a unique phantom that really did exist among them, but was no god or pretender to the throne of evolution. Everything but a freak of nature would be a disappointment. But this was not a joke one would laugh at, or even smile about for very long. The joke would soon turn sour, and if you weren't scared yet, you really should be. For your own good.

The doubt in Carmilla's mind had been rattled when she had learned about her dear Primogen, and her close encounter with death. It had been a wake up call for Carmilla, a scream inside her head. Not only did this figment take a step outside her imagination, it had tried to rid their world of her beloved leader. Nothing could be worse, as she held no other vampire as close to her heart as she did with Mina. Even if Carmilla hadn't gotten many chances to care for someone outside hers and Seath's little circle of Tremere, she instantly knew Mina was one of a kind when they had met for the first time. Killing Mina would be a crime so severe, Carmilla feared she would sacrifice her own life if it meant the end of her bane. But Mina had lived, and unfortunatley so had Adrien de la Cour.

As she learnt of his fate, from Dhampir to Kindred, Carmilla's features grew cold and motionless. The fear that had only been a theory was now present in her body, in the chills of her spine. Who had done this to them? Although a most cruel and apropriate punishment, a revenge none the less, it was also a great risk. As if his punisher didn't think he had done enough, opposed a big enough threat to their kind, Adrien was now more lethal than ever. Who had granted him the tools and the ways of the Kindred? Who was this vampire, so eager to play with the hunter, every Kindred got played in the process. She didn't hear a name, or even if it was a male or a female. When she learnt of the clan, it didn't matter. Tremere. Her very own blood and walk of life. Of course. The pieces of the puzzle started to gather, but it did not complete itself. It was a most cunning revenge, for all the Kindred and most suitable for what he had done to Mina. A slight smile graced Carmilla's lips. She understood. But even if she did, she was still scared, although some of it vanished as she trusted her clan to be wise enough to know what they were doing. Adrien on a Tremere leash. Was she to call him a brother and bestow upon him the same respect she had for all her fellow clansmen? Of course not. She knew only one thing for certain; with Adrien de la Cour as a vampire, the world was even deadlier.

At this point in time, Carmilla had heard it all, except one thing. Adrien was not only a vampire and a Tremere - he was here. In the city and in this very building. And when that fact hit her, her lips parted into an expression of shock.

"Carmilla, I am afraid I am going to have to leave you now", Beyonca said. "I do hope to speak to you again."

Carmilla's respons was nothing but a whisper; "Yes, of course...", as her eyes followed Beyonca as she left, and then Carmilla glanced over the growd. There was a monster among them. How did he dare to face them all, to walk in as if he wasn't the most hated man in Kindred history? It was a mystery. Carmilla felt her surroundings slow down. The Kindred moved in a funeral pace, the voices drowned in a silence as a man was singled out. He was not as she had pictured him. Of course, one didn't imagine a monster so hideous to look like a man, wearing black slacks and a dark, blood red shirt. He looked the part of a Tremere, a very handsome Tremere to boot. Yet, she could not fathom that he was indeed present. She could do nothing but look at him, to try and figure out if he was real; made of Kindred flesh and Tremere blood.

The haze of thoughts and deciphering codes scattered as Carmilla realized that Beyonca was heading towards the hunter. The vision scared Carmilla as if it had been she herself that had approached such a mythical creature.




___________________________________

((( ooc: innoscenteyes - Great. I just feel so mean when I write things like that. )))

((( ooc: Everyone - By the way. I was hoping to have posted this reply yesterday, but I got a bad case of falling-asleep-infront-of-the-tv-and-waking-up-around-5-AM... )))
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#987 Old 20th Dec 2007 at 11:43 PM
Default Valerian & Beyonca
The very second Valerian had uttered his question, he was struck by the realization of what was indeed infront of him, and he stopped for a moment, marvelling at the most unusual sight. A young woman whose loveliness and elegant gown clashed violently with the surroundings, with the sturdy and rugged brick wall behind her, and the dirty concrete under her dainty shoes. The impalpable vision of a fragile beauty, thrown infront of the backdropping of harsh reality. A belle so lily white and pure, yet with eyes that belonged in the night. It was a vision that sent inspiration crashing down on him like the raging waves of a stormy ocean, and he knew the day ahead of him would be a sleepless one, with no room for anything but an empty canvas slowly filling with colors as the images in his head guided his hand.

"Valerian."

His name flowing softly from Beyonca's lips brought him out of his light daze, out of his own little world filled with colors and gentle, loving brush strokes. He blinked once, and when his eyes met with hers, his smile widened with delight and fondness even. It seemed the incident with Ada a few nights ago was no longer even a memory.
And indeed, in Valerian's mind it was long forgotten, erased by Beyonca's sincere apology. Such was his nature. His heart was big and forgiving, and filled with affection for everyone. Sometimes likened to a little puppy dog - and quite fittingly so - he was the kind of person that would love you even if you kicked him. Not if the pain caused was all too severe, of course, in which case he would carefully guard his feeling in the future. But, the fact remained, he was more forgiving than most in this world, Kindred or kine.

"No you are not intruding at all", Beyonca continued. "It is pure pleasure to be in your company. I hope you are enjoying yourself tonight. I couldnt help but notice your dance with Vevilia, It was quite breath taking to say the least. What do I owe for the pleasure of your presence?"

Those were words that made the smile on Valerian's lips widen even more, revealing a perfect set of pearly whites. Partly, and perhaps mostly, because she was complimenting him. Kind words and actions did have a tendency to make him purr. But he was also quite pleasantly surprised that she did indeed act as calm and collected as she had seemed upon parting from Adrien and making her way through the crowd, never once buckling under the intensity of their burning gazes. She really did seem unfazed by the experience.

"You are most kind", he said, while inclining his head ever so slightly in a barely noticable bow. "Thank you. And yes, I am enjoying myself tremendously. The Ventrue know how to organize the most outstanding parties."

Each word brought him closer to her, and as he briefly fell silent, he leaned his back against the wall right next to her; an abstract sign of friendship, to show that even if some of the others frowned upon her 'associating' with Adrien, he did not. He would not treat her any different than before. Not when she had the courage to investigate this new element in their eternal nights.

"And you?" he inquired. "Like most, I could not help but to notice your encounter with... he who shall not be named."

Upon speaking this alternate appellation for Adrien, he glanced over at the lady next to him, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he hinted at how everyone else seemed to consider Adrien an abomination. If for no other reason than to take the edge off of the reactions Beyonca had recieved from the others, to make light of how old and 'stuffy' some of them could be, forever stuck in their principles.

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Alchemist
#988 Old 21st Dec 2007 at 12:22 PM
Moira and Damian - the Ball

Little by little, almost imperceptible at first, a touch of light and warmth seeped back into the gilded ballroom, as those present banished the immediate threat of Adrien de la Cour from their minds – though the thought undoubtedly remained ever present, ready to leap back into focus at the first sign of aggression or should the Prince raise as much as an eyebrow in his direction.

Moira had to admit, this turned out to be one of the most interesting gatherings she had attended in some time, if only for observation value; much had transpired from the actions of those present, enough to keep her intrigued for a while to come – Los Angeles was home to a group of Kindred worth a closer look without a doubt. But the variety of individuals wasn't the only thing that concerned the Toreador; oh no, something more immediate, more personal, currently held her full attention: Damian Alexander, the Prince of the City, and the conversation they were having at that very moment.

"Well then. I hope that like me, you'll find that the City of Angels has a great many things to offer. The possibilities are endless, to those who are looking. This is the land of opportunities, after all."

With a final pirouette, Moira came to a graceful stop as the melody gave way to a few moments of silence, signaling the end of that particular dance. At their left and right, couples either retreated, hand in hand, towards the plush seats clustered on either side of the dancefloor, or remained joined together, awaiting to commence another dance. Accentuated by the sudden stillness, the general hum of conversation was heightened in their ears, coupled with the clattering of crystal and silverware.

“Your words are very reassuring, Milord,” Moira replied, a sparkle kindling in her eyes as she lead the Prince towards the sidelines. He undoubtedly had other engagements that evening, and she could not steal even more of his time; at least, not overtly. “Our kind tends to fear change, but I say change can be preferable if there is value in it. I am glad we are of the same mind on this, and hope our association will not be limited to just this one evening.”

He wasn't the only one who could be direct as well as subtle; of course, Moira would never overstep the boundaries of polite conversation and step into crudeness, unless forced to – then, the instigator might glimpse a much uglier side of her. In this duel of subtleties however, one fenced and withdrew without delivering as much as a scratch, leaving the other with the distinct certainty of future purpose and, yes, possibility. The Toreador's words could have been interpreted as nothing more but customary pleasantries extended to the ruler of this domain, while delivering the underlying message he had pried to the surface: if business was on the offer, Moira was interested. Beyond that, only time would tell.

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
#989 Old 21st Dec 2007 at 11:56 PM
Default Beyonca and Valerian
Beyonca realxed a bit seeing Valerian was still on friendly terms with her. She shouldnt have thought other wise. It wasnt often that Valerian wasnt smiling. He often reminded her of a cat. All one had to do was pet and praise it a little and he was sure to love you.She wouldnt have him anyother way. He is beauty and love inside and out. The flash of smile that is on his lips could bring the sun out for any dark day in ones life.

"You are most kind", he said, while inclining his head ever so slightly in a barely noticable bow. "Thank you. And yes, I am enjoying myself tremendously. The Ventrue know how to organize the most outstanding parties."

Bee nodded in agreement and in thank you for the compliment. She watched him as he walked lcoser to her until he finally rested and leaned his head back against the wall. That small act told her unspoken wrods. He wasnt mad at her for talking to Adrien or over the Ada insident. Two, he thought of her as a friend. Which for some reason something she had never thought of before. Did he think of her as such?

"And you?" he inquired. "Like most, I could not help but to notice your encounter with... he who shall not be named."

That was the very thing she had been waiting to hear. This was over Adrien after all. But of course, why should she exspect any different. Her conversation with him was going to be the new gossip among the kindred now. A small smile spread on her lips and a almost in a wisper chuckle too. But it was her intrest in finding out more about Adrien that struck like fire threw her body. The mischiveous spark twinkled in her eyes.

"Why would I not be? Do you think he alone could break me? He is a cunning kindred. I will admit that."

Should she admit to her friend her intrest in him. That she was planning on speaking to him again? What would he say?

"You have no need to worry for me Valerian. I asure you I am prefectly fine. Have you a worry of him?"

((ooc: I am sorry it took so long. I was drug out the house to go christmas shopping this morning when I was trying to reply the first time.))
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retired moderator
#990 Old 23rd Dec 2007 at 8:40 PM
Default Damian & Moira / Valerian & Beyonca
(((ooc: No worries innoscent. Busy time of year.)))


DAMIAN & MOIRA:

To say that Damian was heartbroken when the last few notes of the melody rang out, paving the way for a few brief moments of silence, would be a vast overstatement. Disappointed was perhaps a better word, even though that too was a rather strong one. But, it was the one closest to the truth. The dance had indeed ended far too soon for his liking, as he still hadn't gotten to examine Moira and her intentions as closely as he would've liked to. However, the Prince was nothing if not patient, and so if this was not to be the right moment to discuss things further, he would wait until presented itself. And if it turned out it didn't seem to happen on it's own, he would give things a little nudge in the right direction. Throughout the years, he had become quite the expert at taking things where he wanted them to go. By words concieved by a cunning mind, or by force, plain and simple. Though force was usually a last resort, unless he needed to make a point, and in the face of this alluring Toreador, it was most uncalled for.

"Your words are very reassuring, Milord," she said as they left the dance floor as easily and gracefully as they had entered it, clearing a path simply by striding forward, never once bumping into anyone. "Our kind tends to fear change, but I say change can be preferable if there is value in it. I am glad we are of the same mind on this, and hope our association will not be limited to just this one evening."

Of the same mind indeed. Damian had no intention of letting their acquaintance remain nothing but this brief encounter at a social event. She had sparked an interest in him, an idea, a vision of how useful someone like her could be to him, if in the right position.
Granted, they were only thoughts he toyed with for the time being, but he was the kind of man that was always thinking ahead, living his unlife as a neverending game of chess; trying to see the chain of events following his choices, the consequences of each possibility presented to him. It left him well prepared, and was the reason why he was rarely taken by surprise; he had already pictured the possible scenarios. Therefore, he was hoping his interest in Moira would turn out to be well founded, and made plans of how to make the most of her skills. But at the same time he knew better than to expect her to end up anything but a disappointment. Though in all honesty he doubted that she would, as he prided himself with being quite a good judge of character. And what he sensed in Moira was a depth that he had never sensed in... a person he was now thinking of replacing.

"As do I", he said and gave a slight bow before scooping up her delicate hand in his own, and planting a kiss upon her knuckles, giving the courteous sign of respect that he had previously withheld. "I would be most honored if, when and if you can find the time, you would stop by my office. I am of course a very busy man, but never too busy for those who, like me, aim to seize any
opportunity that fate places in their path."









- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -






VALERIAN & BEYONCA:

Upon leaning back against the wall behind him, and allowing the coolness of the bricks to seep through his thin silk shirt and nip at his skin, the crisp chill kissing his sensibility awake, Valerian couldn't help but to notice Beyonca's reaction. It wasn't visible, it wasn't even audiable, but still he could sense it in her. His friendliness took her by surprise, as though she hadn't expected it, as though she had thought he would for some reason keep his distance. While at first he thought it to be rather strange, as he was well known to be very friendly and hands on - sometimes even overly so - he soon realized why she would be. At least he thought he did. It was because of the very thing he himself had just mentioned; her conversation with Adrien. She had seen the ways the others had looked at her, and so was probably expecting everyone, Valerian included, to be at least a little bit tiffed, and hardly showing any camaraderie. Things learned, such as the fact that Valerian more often than not seperated himself from "the others", tended to take a backseat to pure instinct. Thus it was no wonder why Beyonca reacted the way she did.

Though at his comment, her expression slowly changed, the shadow of vague surprise replaced by a tiny smile and eyes glinting with mischief in a way that made Valerian wonder why. Was it because of the contents of her conversation with Adrien, or because she had managed to ruffle some feathers by having it? Had her purpose with talking to Adrien not been to find out more about him, but to provoke her peers?
No, it couldn't have been. Beyonca was no fool, she would know better than to willingly anger so many Kindred, especially her Primogen and her Prince, all for the sake of entertainment.

"Why would I not be?" she said, her eyes twinkling at him as she spoke. "Do you think he alone could break me? He is a cunning kindred. I will admit that."

Having said that, she paused briefly in a moment's hesitation, and Valerian could tell by the look on her face, by the way the mischief in her eyes was briefly clouded by something else, that she was unsure of how much to say, and how much she was better off keeping to herself. Apparently she didn't fully trust him. And really, who could blame her? They hadn't had all that much to do with one another before the Ada incident, and so for her to trust him already would by most be considered most foolish. And again, Beyonca was no fool.
Still, Valerian couldn't deny that he was a bit disappointed to find that she decided to play it completely safe.

"You have no need to worry for me Valerian", she said. "I assure you I am prefectly fine. Have you a worry of him?"

Rarely one to act cool and sure of himself when he wasn't, and play pretend games just so that no one would know they had gotten a reaction from him, Valerian took a few moments to truely ponder her question, always open to the possibility that someone could see in him something he himself did not. Was he indeed worried about Adrien?
In all honesty, it wasn't a very far fetched idea. Only minutes ago, he had been able to relate to Vevila's interest in the former hunter, and her naive curiousity of him, and even felt a tug of pity in his heart over the hunter's fate.
But did he worry?
The answer was no, not about Adrien. He did, however, worry about Vevila, and Beyonca still, despite her claiming she was fine. The smugness etched on Adrien's features as he walked away from the conversation with her was too ill-boding for Valerian to ignore. But if Beyonca insisted that there was no need to worry about her, as far as Adrien was concerned,Valerian wouldn't force it on her.
However, there was still the matter of the others, and their current attitude towards Beyonca. Even if Adrien hadn't gotten to her, the way the others looked at her should.

"Well...", he said slowly, still seeming deep in thought. "One does have to wonder how long he will manage to stay alive, now that word of his Embrace is out. There are many in there that wish him dead."

He turned his head to look at Beyonca, and a vague, compassionate smile returned to his lips when he continued;

"But, you recieved looks from them as well. I imagine you have caused quite alot of blood to boil."

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Alchemist
#991 Old 24th Dec 2007 at 1:17 PM
Damian & Moira - the Ball

The crowd swept aside respectfully as Damian and Moira departed the dancefloor which once more became one living, moving entity that swayed and twirled in a burst of colour and motion when the music resumed. Left and right, heads bowed in deference and acknowledgment of the domain ruler's presence – few kindred dared to display a lack of respect for their Prince, whether sincere or not - fearful, perhaps, to be the ones Damian's piercing gaze rested upon with disapproval. In fact, apart from Adrien de la Cour himself, Moira had detected just one such individual, the bold brunette who had shared many of the resentful gazes pointed their way. Bold or just full of naïve curiosity, Moira could not yet tell, but it was just another one of those fascinating observational tidbits that Kindred sometimes offered. In London, Moira was well enough acquainted with most others of her kind to predict their behaviour accurately enough...too accurately. Most were disappointingly predictable, Elders stuck in their decadent past who shunned anything resembling innovation, ambitious Ancillae just waiting for the opportunity to ascend into Elderhood themselves, and the usual rash Neonates that believed themselves either damned or exalted...of course, it was unfair to reduce them all to basics in that manner, but it was a feeling Moira found it difficult to suppress those recent nights, the smothering sensation of also drowning in those stale, breathless, festering waters.

"As do I.” the Prince responded and bestowed a swift kiss on Moira's knuckles, to which she replied with a congenial smile, inclining her head slowly and respectfully, though her keen gaze never wavered nor was it lowered. “I would be most honored if, when and if you can find the time, you would stop by my office. I am of course a very busy man, but never too busy for those who, like me, aim to seize any opportunity that fate places in their path."

“I shall be awaiting our next encounter then”, Moira answered “and the opportunities fate will have decided to place in our paths. I am certain there will be mutual advantage all around.”

The Toreador's voice was lowered to a slightly more pointed and business-like tone as she uttered these words, not harsh or impersonal by any means, oh no, that was reserved for when real business was on the table. It was not yet that time. It was just the subtle hint that she took her engagements seriously and honoured them, and that those who wished to deal with her would do well to reciprocate that seriousness. It wasn't that Moira believed the Prince had anything but a generous proposition in mind, if he was as good a judge of character as the rumour went he prided himself to be, he would know by then that she was as determined in her ventures as any, and underestimating or trying to swindle her was a potential dangerous mistake many a Kindred had made, falling back in that old web of stereotypes revolving around her Clan. After all, in any business agreement, no matter who dealt with who, there had to be agreeable benefits for both parties, as a man like the Prince surely knew well. No, Moira had no doubts Damian had seen that, if he would even propose anything, but time needed to pass before anything certain could be assessed, even if words and behaviour suggested something: they were still near strangers, and business between strangers was the most dangerous kind. One had to be careful; she hoped the Prince would not missinterpret her and take offense: just as he had his eyes wide open, so did she.



((ooc: sorry for the general lack of dialogue, my inspiration is rather fried :allnight: ))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
Inventor
#992 Old 26th Dec 2007 at 7:40 PM
Andre and Aeode

“What are you afraid of?” she asked him in a tone full of determination, but much warmer than before. “Look, nobody ever has to know about this conversation, I won't involve you if that's your worry. I'm a big girl, I can handle whoever's out there, trust me on that one. I just need an address, or a phone number, I'll put the pieces together myself.”

An ironic chuckle escaped Andre. "Putting the pieces together is what I worry about; It's what will put you and I in the most danger." He explained, his voice cool and even, trying not to lash out at her in frustration. It wasn't her fault that she was so curious. There was no way she could know the danger they would both be in if she were to find out about him. Andre shuddered. Aeode was smart, very smart.If she were to find out that he was a kindred, then it would begin a chain reaction of knowing. It wouldn't be hard to connect him to Jessica, Valerian and so on. Letting slip that one piece of information could potentially endanger half the kindred in LA and spell death for him and Aeode. Damian didn't take kindly to the masquerade being broken and would easily silence both the offender and those who knew too much. Him and Aeode.

Andre shook his head slowly, eyes dull. "I don't know much about Jessica, only that she saved you and that she doesn't want you to know" He said. Rising to his feet, he tried to regain some dignity as he brushed the dirt from his pants. Straightening his jacket he walked slowly out of the alleyway. He was quiet for a moment, staring at the full moon, cold and unmoving as a statue. Without turning to face her he spoke again. "As for fear, I'm afraid of the power of some knowledge in the hands of those unequipped to handle it." Behind him he could almost feel Aeode stiffen as he said this. " Leave it alone Aeode. I know what it's like to wonder about those close to you that have died, but your family would not want you in danger." Andre turned slowly to glance at her over his shoulder, his eyes softening some. "Some things are not meant to be know."
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retired moderator
#993 Old 26th Dec 2007 at 9:10 PM
Default Damian & Moira
As the Prince of Los Angeles, as the truely blue-blooded sovereign of the illuminated nights in the City of Angels, Damian had one rule that stood above all others; he was to be respected. He was a firm believer that respect was not a thing to be given, it was to be earned. And he had earned it. His title alone was proof enough of that, and those that did not respect him would soon learn to fear him. He did not accept being treated as anything other than what he was, and would make sure to strike fear in the unbeating hearts of the few ones foolish enough to not show the proper reverence. If they didn't at least bow their heads or lower their gazes when he was generous and gracious enough to grant them something, even the tiniest of things, it was often just a matter of time before they would be taught a lesson. Only rarely would he take no offense when no sign of submission was given.
This encounter with Moira, however, was one such occasion. Granted, she did incline her head ever so slightly, but she kept her gaze locked with his, showing what in any other case might've been interpreted as arrogance, or quite possibly a challenge. But in Moira, Damian saw only genuine confidence and strength, and not an ounce of disrespect or defiance. And he was watching her quite closely, as he did when someone intrigued him, constantly evaluating and re-evaluating his impression, but never being anything but subtle about it. Some never even knew they were being scrutinized, unless Damian wished them to in order to make them nervous. Though Moira was most certainly not one of them. She knew what was going on, especially since she was just as guilty of assessing him as he was of assessing her.

"I shall be awaiting our next encounter then", she said, her lowered voice carrying a tone of firmness that was like music to Damian's ears. "And the opportunities fate will have decided to place in our paths. I am certain there will be mutual advantage all around."

So far there were no signs that his first impression of her was even remotely incorrect, and Damian, being the purebred Ventrue that he was, so loved to be right. If he played his cards right, and more importantly, if she played her cards right, she could turn out to be a most useful acquaintance. Not as easily manipulated as some, judging by how she acted and how she spoke, but with people who seemed likely to share Damian's point of view, that was all for the better. If they could think for themselves, they were often more firmly rooted in their opinions than people who had had their opinions handed to them. Damian was a highly skilled manipulator, and could easily make his own cause the cause of other people as well. But, no matter how skilled, he was not the only one who mastered the art of beguiling, and so those very puppets could be turned once again by someone else, and their strings end up in the hands of the enemy. People who stood as firm in their beliefs as Damian himself, however, were not easily fooled or swayed.

"I shall look forward to it, Miss Sushill", he said, his lips forming a faint smile.

And as he did, a small white business card with black, embellished letters appeared in his hand, as though it had been summoned from the air itself.

"Here is my card", he said and offered it to Moira. "Should you for some reason find it difficult to track me down."

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Test Subject
#994 Old 27th Dec 2007 at 4:49 PM
((Sorry Ive been somewhat gone. Kinda busy. Anyway..))

The talk of Adrien continued, but quickly died down as Damian asked Moira to dance. Carissa watched as they left, leaving her alone with Archon.

There was a brief moment of silence. Carissa looked up at Archon, opening her mouth to speak, though stopped short as she realized he seemed very angry, staring out across the dance floor.

Curiousity getting hold of her, Carissa turned, looking in the direction in which Archon was glaring. It didnt take long for her to spot the most likley source. There was Adrien, something told her that it had to have something to do with the hunter. What else here would cause someone to ger so angry, in such a festive occasion? He was talking with a kindred female, who had taken it upon herself to approach him.

Carissa was surprised, to say the least. While most people seemed to wish to avoid Adrien, wished bad fortune on him, some even, she was sure, wished to tear him limb from limb right here, though behaved on behalf on the Prince. All throughout the party there was a mutual hatred for the hunter, and here this Ventrue female had approached him and was talking friendily. Obviously the reason for Archon's anger was just that, she was Ventrue, the clan in which he was primogen. Had she been in his postion, she would appreciate the action very much either.

The feeling passed, however. Archon spoke, cutting into Carissa's thoughts.

"Lady Vesilli", he said, smiling gently "I would be honored if you would join me in this delightful waltz."

Carissa smiled back, nodding as she spoke, "It would be a pleasure." She took his hand the the two ventured out into the dancefloor, joining the other dancing couples.

((Ahh its shortishy. But Im in a hurry, sorry if some things are out of order or not right. I didnt really read everything over all the way. Sorry for not replying sooner psyche

Also sorry if its slightly incoherent. Im rushing.))
Field Researcher
#995 Old 27th Dec 2007 at 8:49 PM
Default Archon DeWinter & Carissa Vesilli - The Ball
#14 [Sixth Night]

Dancing was part of the etiquette Archon held high, thus he was an accomplished dancer and took the lead with certainty and ease. He did not hesitate and he did not falter; instead he carried himself with pride and honor. Only a scarce amount among the leaders of the world, Kindred and kine alike, would not know their way around a dance floor. It was considered to be a natural addition to every other ability in a great man, or woman for that matter. One should be sure to limit the areas in which one did not feel at home, in order to always have the advantage. It all came down to one thing: domination. And in their case; world domination. Or so to speak. They would seek to dominate the world as far as it took them, without breaking the masquerade. The rest had to be left alone, for the kine to play with. They only had around a hundred years each to proove their point, and a great deal of that time was spent being a child or too old to rule. Archon had to hand it to them, they did achieved a great deal in such a short time.

There was yet another thing, something Archon had realized a very long time ago. Without the kine, the world would be an unsettling place for the eternally damned. Without the masquerade, the shadows and the secrets the world would be... dull. He was sure even the Nosferatu would agree. Although they had to hide away more than any other clan, there was an advantage to their predicament. No other clan could keep track of them, and they knew everything that was worth knowing. If they could indeed live in the open, their bogeyman-nights would be over. Other Kindred would not fear them as much. Loath them, yes, but their interaction would be more common. Of course, their hideous exterior would not vanish with the kine, and in that horrid experience for other vampires layed their greatest leverage. Even so, Archon had an eerie feeling the masked clan would soon take over the world, had the kine disappeared, and had the Kindred not depended on them for nutrition. They would be what the Ventrue were - natural born leaders. How ever, their downfall resided in the twisted demise of their forefather. If one were inclined to believe the legend.

The waltz filled Archon with memories of a time long gone. A time when he was still inhabited with a beating heart. Years upon years of a great part of history, when gentlemen and honor and discipline were as apparent as the sun rising and setting. The Kindred society was the best thing that could have happened to Archon, since those ideals were still an important part of their undying nights. They even had a royal title for their most prominent leaders. Archon believed the Ventrue coped with eternity better than any other clan, as they thrived in the ways of the Old World.

Archon studied the face of Carissa, in the off chance it would reveal anything new, anything interesting and therefore useful. Although she was older than her kine surface showed - to him she would always be a young woman. Mostly because she did not act her years, as a Toreador she embraced the time they lived in, but further more she seemed to reinvent herself with the contemporary.
While analyzing her features he did not appear to really do just that. He had a gentle smile, and engaged them both in a conversation seemingly easy. Their words spoke of nothing, at least Archon's did. He had made it into an art; the ability to exchange words without information in between. If anyone thought they had managed to get information from him, it was only because he willingly gave it to them.

What ever Archon had been thinking and feeling when he had left his mansion to attend the ball in his honor, he was not still having the same thoughts and feelings as the night came to an end. The tables had turned, the world had shifted and the Kindred were different. He could sense it in the air, in the looks and in the whispers around him. The first of a new kind of nights would dusk upon them tomorrow, leaving them with the bitter aftertaste of a new breed. Once a Dhampir, now a Kindred in the shape of a Tremere. Or, as Archon would put it; an abomination.

As time went by, Archon met and talked to a number of Kindred. Many wished to just welcome him back, some wanted to tell him this and that in order to be in his favor and a Ventrue or two felt the need to share their thoughts regarding Beyonca's behaviour during the present night and a certain night at The Haven. Archon did as he usually did; he listened and nodded as to show he payed attention and got the message, but he never let on how he himself felt.





____________________________________

((( ooc: Everyone - EDIT - As we changed back to night 6, I have finally changed the ending of this post to suit that fact. Archon is approachable. )))


((( ooc: I did not have the time to write a longer, fuller post. Sorry if it is lacking in consistency. )))

((( ooc: snowdrop - Things happen. I am just glad I got something to reply to. )))
Alchemist
#996 Old 29th Dec 2007 at 1:50 PM
((I was planning a post soon, just wondering where it would be best to have my characters go. Moira might drop by the Haven, if that's all right with you Unless...everyone else prefers to return to night 6....))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
#997 Old 29th Dec 2007 at 6:12 PM
Default Mina: Ball
A work of art, or a stab of pain? Mina could not decide, when her emerald orbs looked upon Adrien as he entered the banquet hall. She'd expected to see him, true. But it still stung her cold unbeating heart to see him with the nerve to enter so proudly. Sending an almost imperceivable shiver down her spine. He looked as she remembered him, every ounce the haungy Tremere. But where before it was deception now the blood ran through him adding the complexity of true vampiric strength to his movement. She would never have imagined he could absorb himself so completely in his own loathsome mission to hate them all enough to hold such fiery force within those dark orbs. His head never bowing once to the supirior powers that surrounded him like a pit of vipers.

Mina hovered into the shadows of the bonquet, blending into the scenery with the art of an ancient mystic. Silent and observing like a black panther stalking her prey. She heard the whisper passing through the vampires gathered, hushed voices rustling all around, gusting Adrien's identity, the tale, from one circle to another. His name falling time and again like a deadly talisman into the conversations of those around her. Her seed had been planted and now she watched the growth blooming before her, algae eutrophicating the pool of minds. Heads turned to fall upon him, eyes absorbing, implanting the memory of his face into their enduring memories. Now none of her peers would mistake him for anything other than the killer he was, none would fall unwittingly into his resonating light or sucuumb to the velvet tounge, all had been given the knowledge to arm themselves with.

It was all she could do to protect them. For as her eyes lingered upon Adrien's proud frame she realised he could not die by her hand. The wound putrified and fostered for a century still drove into her as sharp as any stake through the heart. To kill him would be to hand over victory. Allowing herself to be consumed by the same disease of hatred would mean to let him win. A dark lethal smile glazed over her deep crimson lips as she perceived the animosity on her kindreds faces. They would make him suffer the dark nights amongst them, beholding the irony of his fate.

Couples took to the dancefloor, brilliant swirls of colour, conducting the ancient rites of dance. Faltless footsteps elegantly performed with the immortal grace human dancers could only inspire to. But her attention was tuned to another occurance as a Venture Ancilla approached Adrien with a bold inquisiteness born of stupidity or bravery. One pale hand elegantly brushed a dark plum lock from her face as she turned away abandoning them to their fate. The silk carassing her body as she glided away from the crowd, unnoticed she deserted the ball sliding through the doorway into the dark musky air outside.

((OCC Just something to get me back into RPing whilst we decide what night we are on :D))
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retired moderator
#998 Old 29th Dec 2007 at 10:34 PM
(((ooc: Well, alright, having given this all some thought and gotten some input, I've decided that we'll continue night #6 a little longer, to give the people who have been missing lately a chance to wrap things up, should they come back.

Ghanima - Hope this is okay, and that you can use whatever you had in mind for when we DO move on to night #7. Oh, and yes, Moira dropping by the Haven then is fine by me. )))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
#999 Old 30th Dec 2007 at 1:34 AM
Valerian watched her closely. She knew it more than see could see it. He was woundering if she was telling the truth of her feelings. It actually made her question her own mind. Was she wrong? Should she be more worried of this situation she had put herself into? Adrien was no kindred to play gmaes with. Not that she was playing any with him, but he was sure to thinks she was. At that thought, she made a note to herself just to watch behind her. Just to make sure if she was wrong, that it wouldnt be a surprise.

One thing that didnt surprise her a bit was just the hint of disapointment on Valerians face. It was barely noticable, but Bee was far to exsperanced on observation. Did he want something else said from her? Was he really that curious of what she thought on the dreaded hunter? He was sure to find out sooner or later exactly how he is. But maybe Bee should tell him just what she thoguht on Adrien.

"Well...", he said slowly, still seeming deep in thought. "One does have to wonder how long he will manage to stay alive, now that word of his Embrace is out. There are many in there that wish him dead."

He had thoguht deeply about how to respond. She could almost see the thoughts molling over in his head. Finding the truth to his own feelings. Which wasnt a shock in the slightest. It was more than likely something she herself would do later. But all his words were true. There is only a certain amount of time before he is killed.

"But, you recieved looks from them as well. I imagine you have caused quite alot of blood to boil."

Beyonca leaned against the wall. Not even caring of her dress. Now she herself thoguht of what to say to that. In her gut, she knew some kindred would want her just as much as they wanted Adriens. She digusted them for even talking to him. Beyonca looked to the smog filled starless sky. She had done wrong. It was the wrong time to try to talk to Adrien. She should have waited until they could have been alone. Where no eyes could have laid on them and seen her boldness.

"Yes, I would think some would boil with hatred for me just as much as there blood boils for Adriens. There is no doubt in my mind I will get a good lashing." She turned her head to look at him." It will probably be more severe from others than my own primogen. I will be sure to watch my back."

There still wasnt any fear in her. Not for Adrien or for any other. She couldnt help but wonder why she felt so. Did she not care anymore for her own safety? Or was it more than she had been alone for so long, she didnt much care what others felt of her.

"Do you think I have done wrong by talking to him? Do you think I should worry for my own safety now?"

((ooc: I am so sorry for being gone so long. I hope it isnt to late.))
Alchemist
#1000 Old 30th Dec 2007 at 12:19 PM
((ooc: Atropa: that's perfectly fine, I had some things to wrap up as well.
Penny: I figured they'd part ways for this night, hope my post is ok. But if you want Andre to say/do anything else feel free to have him stop her :stick: ))


Aeode and Andre



"Putting the pieces together is what I worry about; It's what will put you and I in the most danger."

Digging both hands deep in her tousled hair, Aeode pushed her head back as far as her spine allowed, closing her eyes momentarily, feeling the coolness of the night breeze caressing her skin, chilling the sweat that hung in droplets on her forehead and neck. Straightening herself, the young woman stared aimlessly into the compact darkness of the alley opening before her like some unfathomable tunnel without an end. Lightless and airless, just as the world felt to her then, and her being just an insignificant insect trapped in a sea of tar, ever drowning, gasping for breath. The powerlessness of that situation was the same: after revealing such a tantalizing tidbit of information crucial to Aeode, Andre was now refusing to say anything else, and she was beginning to realize she would not get anything out of him.

"I don't know much about Jessica, only that she saved you and that she doesn't want you to know. As for fear, I'm afraid of the power of some knowledge in the hands of those unequipped to handle it."

A sardonic smirk crossed Aeode's features for a moment: boy, he sure was presumptuous about someone whom he just met. In her opinion, he was the one unequipped to handle whatever dark knowledge he was prattling on about, letting it slip then fretting about the consequences like a frightened child caught doing mischief. Aeode was unable to quell her anger: as far as she was concerned he was no right to tell her just enough to get her mind reeling then withdraw and refuse her the relief from the madness that was poisoning her mind. Either say nothing or say everything.

" Leave it alone Aeode. I know what it's like to wonder about those close to you that have died, but your family would not want you in danger. Some things are not meant to be know."

“Yes, well, unfortunately my family is no longer in any position to want anything,” she answered, slowly leveling her emerald eyes with Andre's. Her voice was devoid of anger, only infinite grief and heartbreaking sadness. “All those abilities, to feel, to want, to love were snuffed out of them. When I come face to face with those that did it, I swear to you I shall return the favor. Don't tell me to leave it alone – my revenge is the one thing I have left in this world. Don't worry, I won't question you anymore about Jessica, if she indeed exists and has anything to say to me, she can do so herself and I don't want to put you in danger. It's not important, I realize, how I survived: what matters now is how they will die.”

It was then that the realization dawned on Aeode: the reason she felt no fear, not exhilaration, the reason she felt nothing at all but the dull craving for the score to be settled: she had accepted it would most likely claim her life, and she did not care.

“See you around, Andre. If fate grants it.” she said dully and turned to leave, her flame-hued curls rippling in the wind.

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
 
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