The Daeva ball was held this evening. I would say that all in all, the festivities were adequate of bearing the Daeva name. The next ball needs a little something more to give it a skip to it's step, but it is a grandiose improvement over the prior attempt.
You would think that tasting a flower of Demeter for the first time would be the highlight of the evening. Instead, it only foreshadowed a horrific set of events. Fate would not see me so pleased this evening.
While conversing with various members of the court, I witnessed a man tossing a chair idly to the side with no care for the integrity of the space, nor respect for property that wasnt his. After inquiring from my peers on the identity of the man, i was told that he had not only killed a member of the provided herd, but that he was offending our guests.
Upon approaching him, I realized that this was one of the more foul mouthed, offensive kindred I had ever encountered. I fought diligently to maintain control of the beast and held on by a thread on no less than 3 occasions during our conversation.
Then I lost it. In my mind I could only think of one thing... eradicate this blemish from existence; Prevent its spread now before it can affect our kindred, and exclaim your distaste of him from the mountaintops as you run your fingers through his ash. At that point I no longer cared about the individual I had fought so long and hard to forge myself into. The rules were set aside, dominated by the overwhelming desire to see him silenced at all costs.
I grabbed the attention of the entire court and announced the self proclaimed "Lord Shithead" as fop of the evening. Blood rushed through my veins and wounds opened up all over his body. I had never experienced this before, and it was an amazing feeling to feel such power course through my every uttered word. I had been fulfilled, the beast sated for some time.
It was then that I realized I had broken elysium for the second time. I fought a tide of inner shame mixed with utter hatred as the victim of my attack fervently spat at my shoes and attempted to shine them. He began to writhe in pain and then madly proclaimed that he was being forced to leave me. I felt a wave of relief as he went away, but stuck in an almost nightmarish state of confusion as he went away. I am beginning to lose myself? It is not because the beast demands it. I am doing this to myself and it terrifies me.
A vast majority of the court left to attend to him. What they did behind those doors I did not know, but it was fairly clear that "Lord Shithead" would not be returning to goad me further.
I was left to stew in my own self loathing. What had I done? More importantly, what sort of example am I if i cannot hold even a modicum of decorum regarding the tradition of elysium.
After things had calmed down, Sister Vaughn sought to keep me company. She seemed shaken, very unlike her normal catlike indifference of all she surveys. It made me uncomfortable. I wanted to pry, but individuals kept approaching me to speak about anything and everything. It was then that Master Santiago approached with his lovely pet. His loving and territorial Crassus. Santiago blatantly inquired as to whether or not I had seen Sister Morgan in the nude. I was almost left speechless when she darted out of the room in embarrassment. Master Santiago proclaimed, even while so well accompanied, that he did not like his property to be stolen from him. To take ownership of a past lover seemed peculiar to me, but not at all surprising coming from Master Santiago. He is a snake I could crush, but a snake worthy of pause. I would not be surprised to see my loved ones turn against me in his midst. Tread lightly Master Santiago. I care not for ultimatums, nor the bluster you provide. You will tip the scales, and guide my hand.
I spoke to Sister Morgan and confirmed my suspicions. She has spoken to Master Santiago prior that evening, and found herself at odds. I have witnessed Santiago turn tightly knight loyalties into tattered remnants and so suggested to her to minimize her conversations with him, or at the very least share her conversations with him with anyone she trusts.
Our conversation came to a close, and we arrived late to a lecture from Father Cade to the collective court. He gave a call to action, suffering not the existence of predators like Ethel to roam our streets, and thus volunteers to aid him.
It was only after said meeting was over that i discovered the main topic of his lecture was to express his public distaste for a breach of elysium. I had mixed feelings on the situation. I was shamed in what I had done, but also surprised at how quick Father Cade was wash his hands of
my previous work for us all. Such is the nature that the requiem takes.
The onus is on me to make a change for myself, to see to it that my mistakes are rectified, and my example is restored.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Santiago, Bane of Princes
Court was held again this evening. One of the more memorable in quite some time. Not much occurred prior to our formal court save for some rumors flying about that Miss Ethel, aka Lady Francisco had decided to take advantage of the tradition of Elysium and make her presence known.
Mind you, this is the woman responsible indirectly for innumerable kindred deaths as well as the addiction of a large populace to kindred vitae through the distribution of her supposed "energy drink". The woman herself was fairly unimpressive in appearance, of moderate attractiveness with a decent taste in fashion. She had an air about her of confidence, one might say overconfidence, even hubris.
Once the actual court began, the floor was opened to new kindred to make their presence known. Master Montoya and Mister Santiago came bearing red and gold sashes similar to those I wear. While I found the display to be designed as a jab at my person specifically, I could not fault them for choosing to participate. Imitation after all is the sincerest form of flattery. Miss "Baby Girl" warned our Prince that she had a new childe to introduce to him but that introduction would be better left to a private audience, evidence pointing that perhaps this new childe had a somewhat illicit genesis. Prince Eric formally withdrew his claim to praxis over Los Alamos and formalized a personal domain throughout the city itself, and rightfully took on the mantle of Viscount of Los Alamos. Shortly thereafter Madam Lucia of the Crone served as a messenger of the dark lady, expounding on the villainy of Miss Ethel. I found there to be quite a bit of courage displayed given that Miss Ethel sat merely across the grand table a few seats away while the disparaging occurred. Her message was interrupted briefly by Mr. Santiago, now herald to his Majesty Prince Maladante, my guess is as some sort of sharing his distaste of the crone and nothing more than that. I was most disappointed by the chuckles of Father Cade who could not help but find humor in the presence of Miss Ethel during the ordeal. I circumvented the table and approached him, warning him that if he was to continue being impolite to Madam Lucia while she had the floor, that we were going to have issues. The chuckling stopped.
Unsurprisingly, Miss Ethel then introduced herself to the congregation of kindred, announcing her intentions and announcing a willingness to work within society. She did so with an air of arrogance I had not seen since Alder Murdoch, seeing no wrong in her past actions, as well as little care for lip service for the praxis itself. Court was adjourned though the political discussion continued. Things began to turn into a game of cat and mouse between Master Montoya and Mister Santiago, as Master Montoya was both cordial and polite to this newcomer as keeper of Elysium, though Mister Santiago very publicly chastised him for giving this enemy of the praxis the time of day. After Miss Ethel continued describing her operation, up to and including embracing farmed human children to obtain the ingredients for her beverage, I could not help but feel disgust, and a lack of all empathy for this woman. We were in the presence of a sociopath, wearing a porcelain mask of civility. I found myself agreeing with Mister Santiago, and began to question why it was that this woman was not exterminated at the first opportunity.
Prince Maladante returned... threats became less and less veiled, and conversation less and less muddled by the desire to maintain decorum resulting in the ultimate expulsion of Miss Ethel from Elysium grounds. Individuals were set on Miss Ethel as informants, to keep tabs on her location while a blood hunt was organized.
The hunt itself was quite underwhelming. A mass of us congregated and waited for a forcefully summoned Ethel to make herself known to us. Instead, the ghouled body she was riding arrived, which was revealed when Father Sabaska hastily attempted to stake her. The woman died, and much as things tend to do, there were witnesses and the police were alerted. It is amazing how effective and ineffective the human authority can be. Lady Fate is a cruel lover, and tonight she desired to see us suffer the hardships dealing with a fast response time. Viscount Smith was present, and his mastery of dominate made quick work of the breach itself. I watched from the shadows with a sense of pride in the efficiency he displayed.
I was later made privy that a member of the Nosferatu, Mister Rochelle, broke into the police vehicles to make off with any electronic evidence of the scenario.
After the situation was neutralized, we returned to Elysium where the Prisci convened to finally select our harpy. As Miss Foster was not present yet again, Madam Lucia of the crone became our primary candidate. We met and unanimously selected her to represent us once all airs of neutrality and cooperation were addressed thoroughly. The Second convening of court for the evening began with a formal declaration of our new harpy as well as her subsequent praise toward Mister Rochelle for his quick action in dispatching further threat in the situation that evening. Mister Bosen was then given the floor upon which he gave praise unto the various members of the court who had served its purposes well. Prince Maladante took the opportunity to give similar praise, in particular to that of Prince Emeritus, Viscount Smith. The topic abruptly took a turn for the worse when Miss Baby girl derailed the situation once again onto the topic of embrace. Shortly Thereafter Mister Bosen asked for permission to embrace, as did mister sunshine. Mister Maxwell expressed a personal distaste of the situation as it appeared to be some form of double standard, but who knows what deals were arranged behind closed doors to sate the wrath of our Prince. Mister Santiago took the opportunity to reveal in an elaborate sequence of question and answer with our prince, the identity of his childe- Master Montoya. He prefaced the revelation prompting, nay daring the prince to destroy his illegitimate childe. With a key word, Mister Santiago unlocked some understanding within the Manchurian mind or Master Montoya. Needless to say I was not surprised at this revelation, though I was subconsciously driven to pace near the doorways to vent my anger with the man for his open defiance of Kindred tradition. Once court ended, it took every ounce of my being to abstain from outright torporing Mister Santiago. Instead I elected to show my distaste for his actions by placing a well deserved fist into the center of his face. Master Montoya drew upon the powers of the Daeva blood to ensure that I did not go further than this. I was prepared to loose esteem among my peers to make a point. Nay, Santiago continued his social barrage, claiming that I was a coward for turning my back on the situation. It was very difficult to abstain from humbling him, though the offer was made. Though he refused, he proudly proclaimed a test of the mind, and hit some command on a hand held device resulting in a lock down on the facility. I was given two minutes to find a way out or surely he would blow up the edifice. His bluff was called, and his elaborate plot quickly foiled by a sequence of blood miracles. Sister Morgan Vaughn turned the lock on his reinforced doors into ash, and Bishop Sabaska his explosives into a clear fluid of some sort. Master Santiago was foiled again.
I left myself leaving and asking myself how it was that Mister Santiago was able to get away with his ability to inflict a sense of demoralization toward the praxis of every city he served within. My observations lead me to believe that because he chooses to berate the prince with what is "the obvious" and to some extent dare him to do what must be done, the kindred reflex is to provide resistance to being compelled to do something. Princes are to some extent honor bound to defy his orders because it is the best interests of any praxis holder to not be seen as a puppet. The puppets may dance but I wont stand idle any longer while your antics weaken the first estate.
Mind you, this is the woman responsible indirectly for innumerable kindred deaths as well as the addiction of a large populace to kindred vitae through the distribution of her supposed "energy drink". The woman herself was fairly unimpressive in appearance, of moderate attractiveness with a decent taste in fashion. She had an air about her of confidence, one might say overconfidence, even hubris.
Once the actual court began, the floor was opened to new kindred to make their presence known. Master Montoya and Mister Santiago came bearing red and gold sashes similar to those I wear. While I found the display to be designed as a jab at my person specifically, I could not fault them for choosing to participate. Imitation after all is the sincerest form of flattery. Miss "Baby Girl" warned our Prince that she had a new childe to introduce to him but that introduction would be better left to a private audience, evidence pointing that perhaps this new childe had a somewhat illicit genesis. Prince Eric formally withdrew his claim to praxis over Los Alamos and formalized a personal domain throughout the city itself, and rightfully took on the mantle of Viscount of Los Alamos. Shortly thereafter Madam Lucia of the Crone served as a messenger of the dark lady, expounding on the villainy of Miss Ethel. I found there to be quite a bit of courage displayed given that Miss Ethel sat merely across the grand table a few seats away while the disparaging occurred. Her message was interrupted briefly by Mr. Santiago, now herald to his Majesty Prince Maladante, my guess is as some sort of sharing his distaste of the crone and nothing more than that. I was most disappointed by the chuckles of Father Cade who could not help but find humor in the presence of Miss Ethel during the ordeal. I circumvented the table and approached him, warning him that if he was to continue being impolite to Madam Lucia while she had the floor, that we were going to have issues. The chuckling stopped.
Unsurprisingly, Miss Ethel then introduced herself to the congregation of kindred, announcing her intentions and announcing a willingness to work within society. She did so with an air of arrogance I had not seen since Alder Murdoch, seeing no wrong in her past actions, as well as little care for lip service for the praxis itself. Court was adjourned though the political discussion continued. Things began to turn into a game of cat and mouse between Master Montoya and Mister Santiago, as Master Montoya was both cordial and polite to this newcomer as keeper of Elysium, though Mister Santiago very publicly chastised him for giving this enemy of the praxis the time of day. After Miss Ethel continued describing her operation, up to and including embracing farmed human children to obtain the ingredients for her beverage, I could not help but feel disgust, and a lack of all empathy for this woman. We were in the presence of a sociopath, wearing a porcelain mask of civility. I found myself agreeing with Mister Santiago, and began to question why it was that this woman was not exterminated at the first opportunity.
Prince Maladante returned... threats became less and less veiled, and conversation less and less muddled by the desire to maintain decorum resulting in the ultimate expulsion of Miss Ethel from Elysium grounds. Individuals were set on Miss Ethel as informants, to keep tabs on her location while a blood hunt was organized.
The hunt itself was quite underwhelming. A mass of us congregated and waited for a forcefully summoned Ethel to make herself known to us. Instead, the ghouled body she was riding arrived, which was revealed when Father Sabaska hastily attempted to stake her. The woman died, and much as things tend to do, there were witnesses and the police were alerted. It is amazing how effective and ineffective the human authority can be. Lady Fate is a cruel lover, and tonight she desired to see us suffer the hardships dealing with a fast response time. Viscount Smith was present, and his mastery of dominate made quick work of the breach itself. I watched from the shadows with a sense of pride in the efficiency he displayed.
I was later made privy that a member of the Nosferatu, Mister Rochelle, broke into the police vehicles to make off with any electronic evidence of the scenario.
After the situation was neutralized, we returned to Elysium where the Prisci convened to finally select our harpy. As Miss Foster was not present yet again, Madam Lucia of the crone became our primary candidate. We met and unanimously selected her to represent us once all airs of neutrality and cooperation were addressed thoroughly. The Second convening of court for the evening began with a formal declaration of our new harpy as well as her subsequent praise toward Mister Rochelle for his quick action in dispatching further threat in the situation that evening. Mister Bosen was then given the floor upon which he gave praise unto the various members of the court who had served its purposes well. Prince Maladante took the opportunity to give similar praise, in particular to that of Prince Emeritus, Viscount Smith. The topic abruptly took a turn for the worse when Miss Baby girl derailed the situation once again onto the topic of embrace. Shortly Thereafter Mister Bosen asked for permission to embrace, as did mister sunshine. Mister Maxwell expressed a personal distaste of the situation as it appeared to be some form of double standard, but who knows what deals were arranged behind closed doors to sate the wrath of our Prince. Mister Santiago took the opportunity to reveal in an elaborate sequence of question and answer with our prince, the identity of his childe- Master Montoya. He prefaced the revelation prompting, nay daring the prince to destroy his illegitimate childe. With a key word, Mister Santiago unlocked some understanding within the Manchurian mind or Master Montoya. Needless to say I was not surprised at this revelation, though I was subconsciously driven to pace near the doorways to vent my anger with the man for his open defiance of Kindred tradition. Once court ended, it took every ounce of my being to abstain from outright torporing Mister Santiago. Instead I elected to show my distaste for his actions by placing a well deserved fist into the center of his face. Master Montoya drew upon the powers of the Daeva blood to ensure that I did not go further than this. I was prepared to loose esteem among my peers to make a point. Nay, Santiago continued his social barrage, claiming that I was a coward for turning my back on the situation. It was very difficult to abstain from humbling him, though the offer was made. Though he refused, he proudly proclaimed a test of the mind, and hit some command on a hand held device resulting in a lock down on the facility. I was given two minutes to find a way out or surely he would blow up the edifice. His bluff was called, and his elaborate plot quickly foiled by a sequence of blood miracles. Sister Morgan Vaughn turned the lock on his reinforced doors into ash, and Bishop Sabaska his explosives into a clear fluid of some sort. Master Santiago was foiled again.
I left myself leaving and asking myself how it was that Mister Santiago was able to get away with his ability to inflict a sense of demoralization toward the praxis of every city he served within. My observations lead me to believe that because he chooses to berate the prince with what is "the obvious" and to some extent dare him to do what must be done, the kindred reflex is to provide resistance to being compelled to do something. Princes are to some extent honor bound to defy his orders because it is the best interests of any praxis holder to not be seen as a puppet. The puppets may dance but I wont stand idle any longer while your antics weaken the first estate.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Return home
It seems that time has no sense of originality. The grand requiem meanders through its cycle and our city is none to differ. I expected to return home to a night of relaxation before court; instead Sir Finch, Sister Vaughn, and myself continued the proverbial grind of maintaining the city. The city is like a giant beast at times, one that conspires and spawns aggressors against kindred-kind. Grooming her is no different from any other city. I was expecting cultists given recent events, but was instead surprised when a trio of ghouls decided to attack us. I attempted to hold back whatever primal excitement still lingers within me at the thought of drawing a blade against a noble enemy. Instead we "drew blades" against ghouls.
Court itself was prefaced by a small reconnoitering of the various covenants. A majority of the Invictus were pulled aside by Master Montoya regarding a few personal issues he needed to express. I respect the man for his ambitions, though I now wonder whether or not his desire is one of honor or one of personal greed. Furthermore he showed some degree of impatience to receive mentor-ship. I was not offended. No. It was rather disappointing to see such a lack of patience, given my absence. It begs the question; is the cadence to which newer kindred pace their requiem that much different from the rest of us? I can foresee that Master Montoya will quickly become a rising star within the Unconquered once he completes his manumission, but it becomes questionable when will he grow up and be worthy of that first major step?
During the discussion itself, Master Montoya asked seemingly out of context, why I had not laid claim to representing the Daeva clan. It sparked events that were later to come, as it was tasked then and there to the other representatives of the clan to begin considering whom would be the best example to serve as their Priscus.
Court itself was somewhat interesting:. A new kindred by the name of Mr. Derrick Finnegan introduced himself as a member of the first estate, the crone expressed the need for occultists to help interpret an augury of sorts, Miss Narcissa Walker was greeted with open applause for her exodus from house Arilvs, and Mr. Maxwell gave a rather detailed report on behalf of the dragons regarding their current discussion on the Strix.
The cogs of the courtly machine began to turn once again, as the sheriff began the motions of bringing together a war coterie to address the issues our city has been facing regarding a strange beverage which involves ingredients derived from kindred. This was all interrupted when a woman stepped forward bearing no beast, as well as a heartbeat. She served as a messenger to a prince in the Dakotas, expressing the desire to convey a message. Prince Maladante took a telephonic conversation via his cell phone... I was not immediately made privy to the details, but was rather embarrassed to see him frenzy as a result of whatever was said. Thank the fates that Prince Eric was available to correct his loss of control through his gifts. Prince Maladante expressed loudly that he "just saved Ariana's life." At this point the court order dissipated, as individuals began to once again talk among themselves. It was then that said woman's message was revealed to me: The master of this retainer was asking for Miss Foster's final death for some great insult to her person. The woman left amidst the commotion, but was shadowed by Mr. Finnigan at the request of Sir Finch. Once her location had been established, Prince Maladante, Master Montoya and Myself were approached with unanswered questions. I knew something was wrong when the purported prince of the Dakotas was not one Prince Dainard, an individual I know well. We took the information gathered from Mister Finnigan and located the hotel of the woman. We met with her at her domicile and coerced a few further tidbits of information. The woman she was reporting to had a telephone number belonging to our city, though when Master Montoya attempted to reach said telephone, no one answered the call. I am left to wonder what blunder Miss Foster committed that warranted such a complex backlash.
Upon returning to where court was held, I decided to socialize some. The Prince went off to tend to his praxis, and I was left to my own devices. I spoke to Lucia of the crone about her vision. She explained that the arrow and flowing droplets of blood were not an omen but rather a bout of clairvoyant vision. The arrow was representative of a large notable arrow statue that exists within the city, and the rivlets of flowing blood were representative of the tail lights of passing vehicles on the freeway. This information meant little to me, but was more instrumental in the plans of the sheriff, who was already at the location investigating. My conversation with Miss Lucia was very fascinating. I find the parallels of symbology between our covenants to be truely amazing.
Shortly thereafter the representatives of clan Mekhet: Father Cade, and Ventrue: Prince Eric pulled me aside to discuss matters of the Prisci. The city had been lacking in a reliable source of fluctuation of status, and thus the newly chosen Prisci and myself decided to throw in another variable and make a selection for the Prisci harpy. Miss Foster immediately came to mind, but both her absence and propensity toward lack of discipline put her consideration on the proverbial back-burner. Father Cade suggested we speak to other potentials and make the decision at a later date. Miss Lucia, fresh on many of our minds, was approached, but she seemed highly reluctant to take such a position as it could interfere with her spiritual obligations to the crone. The Gangrel and Nosferatu were deemed to not have anyone present that could fulfill the qualifications of a Priscus, and such all their respective members at least in passing, agreed to be represented by Father Cade and Prince Eric.
The evening concluded with a meeting of the clans. The Daeva came together to represent a majority of the city. I was proud to announce that the Daeva had maintained eminence for well over a years time now. We brainstormed and made the decision to host a gala of sorts to celebrate our Daeva natures, and to make our presence known. I look forward to see what our clan-mates pull together in making it a success.
Court itself was prefaced by a small reconnoitering of the various covenants. A majority of the Invictus were pulled aside by Master Montoya regarding a few personal issues he needed to express. I respect the man for his ambitions, though I now wonder whether or not his desire is one of honor or one of personal greed. Furthermore he showed some degree of impatience to receive mentor-ship. I was not offended. No. It was rather disappointing to see such a lack of patience, given my absence. It begs the question; is the cadence to which newer kindred pace their requiem that much different from the rest of us? I can foresee that Master Montoya will quickly become a rising star within the Unconquered once he completes his manumission, but it becomes questionable when will he grow up and be worthy of that first major step?
During the discussion itself, Master Montoya asked seemingly out of context, why I had not laid claim to representing the Daeva clan. It sparked events that were later to come, as it was tasked then and there to the other representatives of the clan to begin considering whom would be the best example to serve as their Priscus.
Court itself was somewhat interesting:. A new kindred by the name of Mr. Derrick Finnegan introduced himself as a member of the first estate, the crone expressed the need for occultists to help interpret an augury of sorts, Miss Narcissa Walker was greeted with open applause for her exodus from house Arilvs, and Mr. Maxwell gave a rather detailed report on behalf of the dragons regarding their current discussion on the Strix.
The cogs of the courtly machine began to turn once again, as the sheriff began the motions of bringing together a war coterie to address the issues our city has been facing regarding a strange beverage which involves ingredients derived from kindred. This was all interrupted when a woman stepped forward bearing no beast, as well as a heartbeat. She served as a messenger to a prince in the Dakotas, expressing the desire to convey a message. Prince Maladante took a telephonic conversation via his cell phone... I was not immediately made privy to the details, but was rather embarrassed to see him frenzy as a result of whatever was said. Thank the fates that Prince Eric was available to correct his loss of control through his gifts. Prince Maladante expressed loudly that he "just saved Ariana's life." At this point the court order dissipated, as individuals began to once again talk among themselves. It was then that said woman's message was revealed to me: The master of this retainer was asking for Miss Foster's final death for some great insult to her person. The woman left amidst the commotion, but was shadowed by Mr. Finnigan at the request of Sir Finch. Once her location had been established, Prince Maladante, Master Montoya and Myself were approached with unanswered questions. I knew something was wrong when the purported prince of the Dakotas was not one Prince Dainard, an individual I know well. We took the information gathered from Mister Finnigan and located the hotel of the woman. We met with her at her domicile and coerced a few further tidbits of information. The woman she was reporting to had a telephone number belonging to our city, though when Master Montoya attempted to reach said telephone, no one answered the call. I am left to wonder what blunder Miss Foster committed that warranted such a complex backlash.
Upon returning to where court was held, I decided to socialize some. The Prince went off to tend to his praxis, and I was left to my own devices. I spoke to Lucia of the crone about her vision. She explained that the arrow and flowing droplets of blood were not an omen but rather a bout of clairvoyant vision. The arrow was representative of a large notable arrow statue that exists within the city, and the rivlets of flowing blood were representative of the tail lights of passing vehicles on the freeway. This information meant little to me, but was more instrumental in the plans of the sheriff, who was already at the location investigating. My conversation with Miss Lucia was very fascinating. I find the parallels of symbology between our covenants to be truely amazing.
Shortly thereafter the representatives of clan Mekhet: Father Cade, and Ventrue: Prince Eric pulled me aside to discuss matters of the Prisci. The city had been lacking in a reliable source of fluctuation of status, and thus the newly chosen Prisci and myself decided to throw in another variable and make a selection for the Prisci harpy. Miss Foster immediately came to mind, but both her absence and propensity toward lack of discipline put her consideration on the proverbial back-burner. Father Cade suggested we speak to other potentials and make the decision at a later date. Miss Lucia, fresh on many of our minds, was approached, but she seemed highly reluctant to take such a position as it could interfere with her spiritual obligations to the crone. The Gangrel and Nosferatu were deemed to not have anyone present that could fulfill the qualifications of a Priscus, and such all their respective members at least in passing, agreed to be represented by Father Cade and Prince Eric.
The evening concluded with a meeting of the clans. The Daeva came together to represent a majority of the city. I was proud to announce that the Daeva had maintained eminence for well over a years time now. We brainstormed and made the decision to host a gala of sorts to celebrate our Daeva natures, and to make our presence known. I look forward to see what our clan-mates pull together in making it a success.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Grand Elysium: Colorado Springs
I have just returned home from one of the more positive travel experiences I have had in some time. The adventure itself was not particularly thrilling to the casual observer, but It was important to me. One that I will remember fondly for some time.
As all adventures tend to start, with some form of intrigue and mystery. I was contacted by members of House Egregori, and offered safe passage to Colorado Springs on behalf of a member of the Carthian Movement. The fellow whos services were offered, was one Mr. Anthony DiVittoria. As in all such things, an elder does not survive long by placing trust where it is not due. I spoke to members of the Springs Court to ensure that this man was not a liability. I decided to take the gamble and was pleasantly surprised. It turns out That Mr. DiVittoria is a rather polite well spoken man, save that he has a propensity for making others believe he has alterior motives. He would do well to portray more confidence in his words, and not look away while handing out gifts at an arms length.
When I did finally arrive, I was warmly welcomed by the denizens of Colorado Springs, as well as the visiting Unconquered present. Prince D. Patrick was, as always, quite cordial and respectful. I observed that all present at this gathering point displayed a level of discipline I have not seen in some time among Unconquered. My proverbial "hats off".
The procession into the Elysium itself was lovely. The other covenants were respectful to our entrance. They all portrayed the same level of respect throughout the dissertation of both Alder Meister Baltasar Sargon and the Prince. Their story of the Penrose founder was interesting and compelling. I was delighted to see no signs of disrespect among the crowd of observers.
The most disturbing portion of the evening followed shortly. A synod had been called for Father Cade, during which Bishop Sabaska was given authority over Albuquerque in matters spiritual. I was rather distraught to hear that the Sanctified had rushed to such unwholesome conclusions without educating themselves as to the larger picture in Albuquerque. Bishop Sabaska is not a member of our court, nor has he attended it in months. Furthermore, the other members of the sanctified in Albuquerque were altogether overlooked. It is my hope that the situation will be rectified before it weakens the Sanctified presence within the court.
Shortly thereafter, the Regional Inner Cirlce for the North Central convened. Invictus in attendance of the Grand Elysium were invited to attend. I was most pleased to hear that the murderer of Alder Anaska Sutter had been destroyed.
The oathing ceremony itself was very humble, but effective and to the point. I was honored by having Sir Cale Devereaux join my fealty, but also by the entirety of the Unconquered present in bearing witness to the ceremony.
Sir Deveraux in many ways reminds me of myself some years ago. I see in him a great deal of honor, as well as discipline. His beast worries me however. I would be a cosmic injustice to watch such an exemplary man devolve into an unrelenting monster. I will watch him and aid him as I was once aided myself.
As all adventures tend to start, with some form of intrigue and mystery. I was contacted by members of House Egregori, and offered safe passage to Colorado Springs on behalf of a member of the Carthian Movement. The fellow whos services were offered, was one Mr. Anthony DiVittoria. As in all such things, an elder does not survive long by placing trust where it is not due. I spoke to members of the Springs Court to ensure that this man was not a liability. I decided to take the gamble and was pleasantly surprised. It turns out That Mr. DiVittoria is a rather polite well spoken man, save that he has a propensity for making others believe he has alterior motives. He would do well to portray more confidence in his words, and not look away while handing out gifts at an arms length.
When I did finally arrive, I was warmly welcomed by the denizens of Colorado Springs, as well as the visiting Unconquered present. Prince D. Patrick was, as always, quite cordial and respectful. I observed that all present at this gathering point displayed a level of discipline I have not seen in some time among Unconquered. My proverbial "hats off".
The procession into the Elysium itself was lovely. The other covenants were respectful to our entrance. They all portrayed the same level of respect throughout the dissertation of both Alder Meister Baltasar Sargon and the Prince. Their story of the Penrose founder was interesting and compelling. I was delighted to see no signs of disrespect among the crowd of observers.
The most disturbing portion of the evening followed shortly. A synod had been called for Father Cade, during which Bishop Sabaska was given authority over Albuquerque in matters spiritual. I was rather distraught to hear that the Sanctified had rushed to such unwholesome conclusions without educating themselves as to the larger picture in Albuquerque. Bishop Sabaska is not a member of our court, nor has he attended it in months. Furthermore, the other members of the sanctified in Albuquerque were altogether overlooked. It is my hope that the situation will be rectified before it weakens the Sanctified presence within the court.
Shortly thereafter, the Regional Inner Cirlce for the North Central convened. Invictus in attendance of the Grand Elysium were invited to attend. I was most pleased to hear that the murderer of Alder Anaska Sutter had been destroyed.
The oathing ceremony itself was very humble, but effective and to the point. I was honored by having Sir Cale Devereaux join my fealty, but also by the entirety of the Unconquered present in bearing witness to the ceremony.
Sir Deveraux in many ways reminds me of myself some years ago. I see in him a great deal of honor, as well as discipline. His beast worries me however. I would be a cosmic injustice to watch such an exemplary man devolve into an unrelenting monster. I will watch him and aid him as I was once aided myself.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Rio Rancho
I visited Rio Rancho this past Thursday. It was interesting to say the least. I received a warm welcome, which to this day is a topic for which I am torn. I am glad that the turmoil ceased between the Invictus of Rio Rancho and myself, yet there is still a looming sense of impending doom.
I went this week with Master Vincent Montoya, Prince Romero's new vassal. He wore a purple sash. Being, to some degree imitated, I was flattered but I wondered internally if there was any significance to the sash's qualities. Purple is the Florentine color of the lords, not the succubi. I will make a mental note to speak with him on the matter in private.
I was once asked by Javod Masoudi why I wore a red sash. I explained to him that it served as a warning, a visible slash stemming from where I draw my blade across the chest. His response was to ask me what a sash representing throwing grenades may look like.
We arrived at their new Elysium complex. Simply put, it was a monument to insanity, and a breach of the masquerade waiting to happen. We passed a series of 60 foot walls erected around a lone monolith of a building. It appeared as though they were preparing for a war of somekind. Men with firearms patrolled the grounds like mindless dogs. I bite my tounge and make no waves in favor of maintaining the peace with the owners of the edifice. In times past I have received quite my share of ill will for correcting them in any capacity.
Later i spoke to Prince Sullivan, and she relayed to me that she and Duke Castle had already spoken about my conversation with him in Wyndsor. I get the distinct impression that House Castle still sees me as a weakling, or perhaps that my speaking to Duke Sir Hector Castle was seen as an act of weakness. I have no idea how their mentalities function. It is my hope that with enough time and effort, I will get through to the man, and reveal a quality of character within my person that he was never made privy to.
Shortly after court... I became blind and wracked by intense head pains-multiple times while sitting quietly in their Elysium. Fortunes spent, so it seems, cannot build a perfect Elysium. After Prince Sullivan investigated the occurrences, she too was affected in an identical manner. Afterward things began to take a turn for the bizarre. Pictures that plagued individuals, unseen by others, and a general sense of chaos led me to politely take my leave for the evening. Perhaps another day, ladies and gentleman of the CDRR.
I went this week with Master Vincent Montoya, Prince Romero's new vassal. He wore a purple sash. Being, to some degree imitated, I was flattered but I wondered internally if there was any significance to the sash's qualities. Purple is the Florentine color of the lords, not the succubi. I will make a mental note to speak with him on the matter in private.
I was once asked by Javod Masoudi why I wore a red sash. I explained to him that it served as a warning, a visible slash stemming from where I draw my blade across the chest. His response was to ask me what a sash representing throwing grenades may look like.
We arrived at their new Elysium complex. Simply put, it was a monument to insanity, and a breach of the masquerade waiting to happen. We passed a series of 60 foot walls erected around a lone monolith of a building. It appeared as though they were preparing for a war of somekind. Men with firearms patrolled the grounds like mindless dogs. I bite my tounge and make no waves in favor of maintaining the peace with the owners of the edifice. In times past I have received quite my share of ill will for correcting them in any capacity.
Later i spoke to Prince Sullivan, and she relayed to me that she and Duke Castle had already spoken about my conversation with him in Wyndsor. I get the distinct impression that House Castle still sees me as a weakling, or perhaps that my speaking to Duke Sir Hector Castle was seen as an act of weakness. I have no idea how their mentalities function. It is my hope that with enough time and effort, I will get through to the man, and reveal a quality of character within my person that he was never made privy to.
Shortly after court... I became blind and wracked by intense head pains-multiple times while sitting quietly in their Elysium. Fortunes spent, so it seems, cannot build a perfect Elysium. After Prince Sullivan investigated the occurrences, she too was affected in an identical manner. Afterward things began to take a turn for the bizarre. Pictures that plagued individuals, unseen by others, and a general sense of chaos led me to politely take my leave for the evening. Perhaps another day, ladies and gentleman of the CDRR.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Home from Wyndsor
I walk the halls of my humble haven. Its warmth and familiarity instills a certain sense of of security. I hear the muffled clash of metal on metal in the neighboring room and my mind begins to wander. What unmoving foe must Sir Jonathan Finch be facing off against tonight? Hes growing incredibly potent. I am often amazed at how remarkable his progress with his craft has progressed.
Ive recently returned from my trip to Windsor Ontario. I must say it was a rather fruitful venture out into the unknown. I touched based with my muse... the cacophony of kindred society. I feel a sense of comfort to be around them all, observing the nuances of their requiem... the nervousness in their voice when they are introduced to a superior predator, the danse macabre.
Elena's return, albeit brief was surreal. I saw in her eyes the fury only a woman can muster. It was both frightening and disturbing. It was the first time I ever wanted to abandon her. She was not Elena. Elena was dead.
I observed a great deal of anxiety regarding the Straega, Strix, Stirge or however you choose to acknowledge them. I saw chaos envelop our gathering firsthand and felt the spark of many beasts simultaneously rise in more kindred than I have ever experienced. Powerful Kindred. Degenerate Kindred. My close friends and allies were not left unscathed. And yet, through it all I felt detached, as if the world for just one moment lost its luster, and the sounds of a thousand voices were suddenly impossibly mute. I fear for what Ive become. What Ive done to myself.
I feel within me the pangs of humanity, though what does it all serve me if I have become so numb to the ebbs and flows of fate that I no longer feel my own identity. I witnessed my dead Aunt Elena transform into my unliving Aunt Makenzie and spout off prophecy... and through it all my heart did not skip a beat.
I have returned home to find that the city has returned to bad habits. Father Cade, Master Santiago, and Sunshine decided to let thier whims rule over reason and impoded in upon themselves. I am ashamed of them all. My gut reaction is to humilate them. To make them regret ever daring to resort to these antics. I tempt myself by giving in to my inner demons, but I beleive this is a case where I do our collective a greater disservice in remaining controlled. I fear for them.
Ive recently returned from my trip to Windsor Ontario. I must say it was a rather fruitful venture out into the unknown. I touched based with my muse... the cacophony of kindred society. I feel a sense of comfort to be around them all, observing the nuances of their requiem... the nervousness in their voice when they are introduced to a superior predator, the danse macabre.
Elena's return, albeit brief was surreal. I saw in her eyes the fury only a woman can muster. It was both frightening and disturbing. It was the first time I ever wanted to abandon her. She was not Elena. Elena was dead.
I observed a great deal of anxiety regarding the Straega, Strix, Stirge or however you choose to acknowledge them. I saw chaos envelop our gathering firsthand and felt the spark of many beasts simultaneously rise in more kindred than I have ever experienced. Powerful Kindred. Degenerate Kindred. My close friends and allies were not left unscathed. And yet, through it all I felt detached, as if the world for just one moment lost its luster, and the sounds of a thousand voices were suddenly impossibly mute. I fear for what Ive become. What Ive done to myself.
I feel within me the pangs of humanity, though what does it all serve me if I have become so numb to the ebbs and flows of fate that I no longer feel my own identity. I witnessed my dead Aunt Elena transform into my unliving Aunt Makenzie and spout off prophecy... and through it all my heart did not skip a beat.
I have returned home to find that the city has returned to bad habits. Father Cade, Master Santiago, and Sunshine decided to let thier whims rule over reason and impoded in upon themselves. I am ashamed of them all. My gut reaction is to humilate them. To make them regret ever daring to resort to these antics. I tempt myself by giving in to my inner demons, but I beleive this is a case where I do our collective a greater disservice in remaining controlled. I fear for them.
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