March 31st, 2009
I have awoken today, alive and of sound mind body and spirit. I have not been this angry, paranoid, and contemplative as I have been today. I rose to find you still intact, albeit damaged from the water used to put out the fires. My home has been disrespected, my closest allies endangered, and my mortal line nearly extinguished. I ask myself, what is it about our nature, the beasts nature, that compels us to turn on each other like savages. Maria Theresa has stayed by my side, writing to the outside world of what has occurred while I slumber. I am reminded at times like these of how talented, and how fragile a treasure she truly is. Sir Finch is out making arrangements for the investigation.
(later that evening, in a different shade of ink)
I am glad to see Mackenzie has arrived. She is breathtaking even in her casual attire. She has been so quiet, crouching and touching everything. Alita and Sir Pennington have arrived as well. I have not seen him as angry- pacing silently in our empty, scarred sparring chamber. Alita on the other hand... Prince Maladante, Viscount Smith, and Mister Montoya called earlier with news that they had been well received at the police station. Sir Finch reports that the other Mekhet are vigilant. I will return soon friend, Mackenzie has the trail.
-
We followed the trail to a man's house. It was the house of an average man- with obvious signs of a domestic life. He was easily persuaded to give us the weapons and returned with us to the rendezvous location. I could tell he was wary and weighed down by guilt. There was a look of regret as he looked behind him at the lie he had presented to his loved ones.
Alder Andreas arrived. Sir Finch tells me he is safe and on patrol. I am amazed to see such loyalty from such recent an addition to my fealty.
Mister Montoya reports that with a loosening of the tongue, the culprit appears to be Lord Devonshire. Viscount Smith informed us that the police officer is en route with him. There are however, inconsistent details that lead us to believe Devonshire is being framed. It doesn't seem to make sense.
April 1st, 2009
Everyone is up and fairly eager to continue the investigation. Prince Rathstein arrived, and joined Prince Maladante, Viscount Smith, and Master Montoya on round two at the station. I have asked Knight Commander De Castile to serve as his protector. I am always impressed with his eagerness and quality of service. His Leige has a very valuable vassal indeed.
The Mekhet remain secure, and are on the prowl. I am surprised to hear that no one has been observed attempting to cover their tracks.
-
Viscount Eric reports that several of the officers have been murdered. I am told Prince Rathstein was unable to piece together much information regarding the remaining police. Most unfortunate. They were smart to bring the officer with them last night. The group should be on their way back to the rendezvous to work on him.
My talents at this point seem inadequate. I will leave it to the expertise of Viscount Smith. Perhaps I will offer Sir Pennington and Alita a sparring match.
-
Marcus Pierce returns with some perturbing evidence- the police were indeed murdered. A hitman was hired, and succeeded in killing all but the one we have sequestered. The assassinations were carried out by a masked stranger bearing a stolen gun.
Prince Rathstein tells me he is much better acquainted with the city's social dynamics due to the efforts of Maria Theresa and the stacks of documents she has compiled for him. Prince Eric has sat in front of the officer for the past 4 hours, and there seems to be no end in sight. If I am to be accused of having far too much patience, then Viscount Eric is a saint. Prince Maladante has the look I used to stare at in the mirror while I held Praxis. He is suffering an internal struggle. I should endeavor to speak to him in private after this is all over.
Miss Narcissa and Mackenzie seem to be hitting it off. I knew they would, though I certainly wish it was under different circumstances. They feed off one another emotionally- its tangible and real.
-
April 3rd, 2009
Viscount Eric Smith has broken through the police officers altered memories. In tandem with Marcus Pearce's visions, it is revealed to us that Mr. Kowalski of the Carthian Movement was indeed the individual responsible for the implanted false memories. I was shocked, betrayed even. Mr. Kowalski and I have only had positive interactions prior to this. Dr. Rathstein informs us that there is is a connection with Murdoch and Father Cade. Lets start there...
April 4th, 2009
We were late to court today. Unfortunate-I was looking forward to the festivities.
I arrived to find a meeting had been arranged with Alder Murdoch, within the bounds of Elysium. Worthless. Alder Murdoch tap danced around the issue, proclaiming that the Invictus appeared weak for questioning him behind closed doors- the audacity of us I know. In the end, Alder Murdoch only implicated himself by fighting tooth and nail. One notable fact stood out- He claimed he had been involved in the cover up of the fire, in our interests and in the interest of the Masquerade. Yet all of the intelligence that the Mekhet brought back contradicts this. Alder Murdoch had done nothing.
The mistake was repeated with Mister Kowalski himself, though Father Cade accompanied him for his safety. We sat on Elysium grounds, asking questions only to waste our time for at least an hour's time while Father Cade fought our evidence. Mister Kowalski spoke his rhetoric- As a Carthian we wanted to oppress him and bully him. Of course after all my history of civil interactions with the Carthian Movement, I suddenly decided to take out all of my sadistic tendencies on a relatively unknown neonate. Typical. What was most surprising is how hard Father Cade fought us, and his bizarre sudden attachment to due process. It is very simple- we follow the leads we are given, investigate them and rule them out. Dr. Rathstein gave me a knowing look and left the premises under the vigil of Alita.
Cade finally gave in, and accompanied us to one of the secluded floors off Elysium grounds. Mr. Kowalski proudly proclaimed to the the praxis that tonight innocent blood would be spilled by the Invictus. Murdoch was quick to insert himself.
Immediately upon entering the interrogation room Cade cast a spell which pushed us away from him, and prevented us from looking at him. I could hear him whisper to Kowalski- "you will answer my questions or I will fucking murder you." Kowalski refused and so Father Cade drew a blade and plunged it into his side- then frenzied. Father Cade was compelled to flee, and Mister Kowalski was escorted off the premise with a stake in his chest. Why would Father Cade try to silence Kowalski? What does Kowalski have to say that is so damning?
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Of love and hate
"Tell me Xavier, how is it that you are not a politician?
"I find no need to use subversion to succeed in my Requiem. To confuse my personal agenda with the greater goal is a mistake."
"That is why you are so loved by so many... and hated by so many more. You are incorruptible."
The words of my sister, Roxanne, rang deep within me with a resonance I could not shake.
You will be disappointed to find that my words this evening are not a synopsis of our last court... if such an event could conceivably bear that moniker. I have found my Requiem to continue to grow more complex in a negative way. There is a certain loss of control, a loss of security that comes with knowing your place in society, and more importantly, among those who are close to you.
On a somewhat tangential note: I have turned a substantial amount of my attention away from local affairs, toward the betterment of our covenant through heavy investment in The Munificent Society of the Scarlet Aegis. I am met with praise for the pursuit of this project, which is largely considered a noble cause. Nonetheless I face a series of problems. The kindred condition demands a certain degree of selfishness. We are territorial creatures who first ask "what is in it for me?" before we fathom to think "what can I do to better myself through the betterment of our society?". It is a problem I had not taken into account, which will cost me a great deal more attention to ensure that the Aegis succeeds. I note this largely to show my priorities, but also to preface issues I am facing locally surrounding a sudden and inexplicable bout of chaos.
Father Sabaska of the Lancea Sanctum is dead, or is indisposed to such a degree that he is unable to attend court nor answer a summons. To aggravate the situation, no less than a month's time has passed since we sat down to celebrate our time at peace.
Now, it is my understanding that Bishop Sabaska reached out prior to his end and gave three names- Father Cade, Alder Aleksandr Murdoch, and Prince Romero Maladante. It appears as though Prince Maladante escorted Sabaska to a meeting between Alder Murdoch and Father Cade to discuss an illegitimate childe, and disappeared afterward.
Earlier this evening, I spoke to Prince Sullivan on the matter. We came to the accord that Prince Maladante was likely supernaturally compelled to obey Alder Murdoch in this scenario. Prince Sullivan informed me that she had information I was not made privy to, but that she would not be so quick to speak without having both confirmed the information as fact and the source present.
I was impressed and pleasantly surprised that Prince Sullivan did not claim what I expected her to. I firmly believed that Prince Sullivan would view the attack not as an issue amongst the lance, but rather as an attack on her Court, and thus an attack on her personally. Instead she explained to me that some time ago, she gave her word to Prince Maladante that his citizens would be treated with respect and allowed free reign to come and go to her city. Prince Maladante expressed a similar desire. The loss of Sabaska was seen not as a personal attack but rather a violation in spirit of the hospitality extended to members of our praxis. I myself am not so foolish as to believe that Father Sabaska would ever agree to participate in a duel. One of Father Sabaska's more prominent attributes was personal cowardice. He was quite vocal about avoiding a duel during the last gathering in Phoenix, where the Lance's issues were also brought into the public eye. Father Sabaska would have been much more comfortable speaking to his superiors in the hopes that they would destroy Cade for him. It is uncertain to me whether Sabaksa was forced into the ritual of recontre or if he was outright killed.
I am deeply disappointed with Prince Maladante's lack of communication with me. He once stated that should Alder Murdoch return, he would strike him dead for what he made him do while in his fealty. How is it that he can feel such rage toward this man, and then a year later not only welcome him, but toady to his personal issues. If only the rest of us had the luxury of having him grace us with his presence for every petty philosophical argument.
Alder Murdoch broke the tradition of Progeny,and got away with it. Alder Murdoch maintained his status within the city. These factors do not add up to hate, and it seems to me that Prince Maladante has become a pawn once again. What is to be done with a Prince that is unable to stand on his own two feet? What is to be done with a Prince that shows no integrity for his own word nor the principles of the Traditions? I will confront him and get to the bottom of this breach of trust. I have served him as his liege, protected his interests, and nurtured his growth as a member of the Unconquered. When will I see him do the same for his Lord? I grow tired.
I was equally perturbed by the behavior of Bishop Morgan Vaughn. She has been given an opportunity to prove herself and become something more. I see within her such potential, yet my faith in her is shaken. During mass, Bishop Vaughn casually laid across several chairs. The only component missing from an overt display of disinterest would have been for her begin filing her nails. What sort of example does she serve to her diocese? I was shocked when she attempted to kill Maladante's childe, seemingly unprovoked in the middle of a room full of witnesses. All of that progress lost. I war with myself because I care for her. Do I protect her and encourage this behavior, or allow fate to run its course? Will Maladante stand idle while Bishop Morgan undermines his very public edict? Either way... I lose.
"I find no need to use subversion to succeed in my Requiem. To confuse my personal agenda with the greater goal is a mistake."
"That is why you are so loved by so many... and hated by so many more. You are incorruptible."
The words of my sister, Roxanne, rang deep within me with a resonance I could not shake.
You will be disappointed to find that my words this evening are not a synopsis of our last court... if such an event could conceivably bear that moniker. I have found my Requiem to continue to grow more complex in a negative way. There is a certain loss of control, a loss of security that comes with knowing your place in society, and more importantly, among those who are close to you.
On a somewhat tangential note: I have turned a substantial amount of my attention away from local affairs, toward the betterment of our covenant through heavy investment in The Munificent Society of the Scarlet Aegis. I am met with praise for the pursuit of this project, which is largely considered a noble cause. Nonetheless I face a series of problems. The kindred condition demands a certain degree of selfishness. We are territorial creatures who first ask "what is in it for me?" before we fathom to think "what can I do to better myself through the betterment of our society?". It is a problem I had not taken into account, which will cost me a great deal more attention to ensure that the Aegis succeeds. I note this largely to show my priorities, but also to preface issues I am facing locally surrounding a sudden and inexplicable bout of chaos.
Father Sabaska of the Lancea Sanctum is dead, or is indisposed to such a degree that he is unable to attend court nor answer a summons. To aggravate the situation, no less than a month's time has passed since we sat down to celebrate our time at peace.
Now, it is my understanding that Bishop Sabaska reached out prior to his end and gave three names- Father Cade, Alder Aleksandr Murdoch, and Prince Romero Maladante. It appears as though Prince Maladante escorted Sabaska to a meeting between Alder Murdoch and Father Cade to discuss an illegitimate childe, and disappeared afterward.
Earlier this evening, I spoke to Prince Sullivan on the matter. We came to the accord that Prince Maladante was likely supernaturally compelled to obey Alder Murdoch in this scenario. Prince Sullivan informed me that she had information I was not made privy to, but that she would not be so quick to speak without having both confirmed the information as fact and the source present.
I was impressed and pleasantly surprised that Prince Sullivan did not claim what I expected her to. I firmly believed that Prince Sullivan would view the attack not as an issue amongst the lance, but rather as an attack on her Court, and thus an attack on her personally. Instead she explained to me that some time ago, she gave her word to Prince Maladante that his citizens would be treated with respect and allowed free reign to come and go to her city. Prince Maladante expressed a similar desire. The loss of Sabaska was seen not as a personal attack but rather a violation in spirit of the hospitality extended to members of our praxis. I myself am not so foolish as to believe that Father Sabaska would ever agree to participate in a duel. One of Father Sabaska's more prominent attributes was personal cowardice. He was quite vocal about avoiding a duel during the last gathering in Phoenix, where the Lance's issues were also brought into the public eye. Father Sabaska would have been much more comfortable speaking to his superiors in the hopes that they would destroy Cade for him. It is uncertain to me whether Sabaksa was forced into the ritual of recontre or if he was outright killed.
I am deeply disappointed with Prince Maladante's lack of communication with me. He once stated that should Alder Murdoch return, he would strike him dead for what he made him do while in his fealty. How is it that he can feel such rage toward this man, and then a year later not only welcome him, but toady to his personal issues. If only the rest of us had the luxury of having him grace us with his presence for every petty philosophical argument.
Alder Murdoch broke the tradition of Progeny,and got away with it. Alder Murdoch maintained his status within the city. These factors do not add up to hate, and it seems to me that Prince Maladante has become a pawn once again. What is to be done with a Prince that is unable to stand on his own two feet? What is to be done with a Prince that shows no integrity for his own word nor the principles of the Traditions? I will confront him and get to the bottom of this breach of trust. I have served him as his liege, protected his interests, and nurtured his growth as a member of the Unconquered. When will I see him do the same for his Lord? I grow tired.
I was equally perturbed by the behavior of Bishop Morgan Vaughn. She has been given an opportunity to prove herself and become something more. I see within her such potential, yet my faith in her is shaken. During mass, Bishop Vaughn casually laid across several chairs. The only component missing from an overt display of disinterest would have been for her begin filing her nails. What sort of example does she serve to her diocese? I was shocked when she attempted to kill Maladante's childe, seemingly unprovoked in the middle of a room full of witnesses. All of that progress lost. I war with myself because I care for her. Do I protect her and encourage this behavior, or allow fate to run its course? Will Maladante stand idle while Bishop Morgan undermines his very public edict? Either way... I lose.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
The death of Mereni
This post is a narrative given by the Proxy ST. It is not an actual entry in his journal.
It’s been hours, and the gathered Kindred are restless. Many remain hidden from sight, watching the door warily or glancing out the windows of the home. Others lounge on couches and chairs, their weapons across their laps or leaning against a wall. The assembled vampires, here to kill an admitted diablerist, hope their prey will arrive soon.
Unexpectedly, the door opens, and in steps a man. He is slight, unassuming, and it is readily apparent to all present that he has neither the taint of the Beast nor the pall of undeath about him. In his hand is a pocket watch, and he looks up from it as he enters, almost as if he has to drag his eyes away to confront those arrayed before him. He stops, something about his body stiffening as if in fear.
Egan steps forward, a gentle smile on his face. He says only “Hello,” exerting his personality over the stranger, before the man shudders briefly, his form blurring for a moment before it races out the door behind him into the night.
Rui rushes out after him, stopping a few paces out the door, he gestures to the fleeing figure and smiles grimly as it stops, arms clutching his gut, vomiting blood black as death and reeking of evil. Rui is certain that this is their prey. The man is on his knees, and now he can be seen clearly for who he really is. His black fedora lays in the dust a few feet away, his suit rumpled as if he has been running for too long. His normally immaculate hair is out of place, falling into his face as he vomits again. This is Vertith Mereni, who called himself Adversary.
Others rush out into the night behind him, arraying to each side. Some few gasp in horror as they witness Mereni spewing forth the black blood, stained with his sin. Earl begins to circle him, pacing slowly, a flask in his hand as he watches. Rui steps forward, his weapon brought to bear, the rest giving a wide berth as he approaches to put the criminal to death. The diablerist leans toward the pocket watch, lying open in the dirt before him, and whispers something to it.
Mereni then turns his face toward Rui, a mask of anger and hatred upon it, his eyes two crimson pools. He spits blood once more as he watches his doom approach, and he utters a cryptic phrase as he grits his teeth in the semblance of a smile.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly.”
Rui shudders, and vitae begins to leak from his eyes and ears, running over his lips and spilling down his chin as it bursts forth from his nostrils. He drops his weapon, hands raising to his face, and the roar of anger from those present can be felt more than heard as they rush forward toward Mereni.
Egan reaches him first, a stake in his hand, and Mereni howls briefly as it is plunged into his back, digging toward his heart. Earl is an instant behind him, his spear suddenly thrusting down, impaling Mereni’s body. As they strike, a feeling of unsettling wrongness echos out from the staked body. The two stare down at it, waiting, watching. Mackenzie pulls Rui away from Mereni, attempting to find some way to staunch the flow of vitae. In a moment, it ceases, and she continues to hold him, as if to give comfort. At this point, Ghoren's form shifts, becoming that of a bird, and he flies through the building before disappearing into the night, carried off by the sound of beating wings.
Xavier de la Cruz steps forward, pulling a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He gazes at Mereni’s prone body, and says, “Master Mereni. I must admit when last we spoke I was clueless as to your crimes. I never thought then that this scenario would make its way into our collective requiem. Nonetheless, I made a promise to the one you love, Miss Narcissa, and I intend to fulfill that request.”
He clears his throat, unfolding the letter in his hands. He reads it without pause, and those around him wait patiently for him to finish.
My Dear Vertith,
I wept after reading your letter. I feel such guilt for having left you as I did; running off from you when needed me the most. Please forgive my cowardice. You speak of how you are falling further into your Beast, and I find myself struggling to find the right words to assure you that what you are experiencing is simply a passing phase, as it would do neither of us any good for me to provide you with what could possibly be a false sense of hope regarding things that are far beyond our control.
If fate favored us, then we would have met during our mortal lives. Instead, we must not only fear the impact our relationship would have on politics, morality, and our alignment; but also if our own descending humanity could possibly lead the other to their death. With such uncertainties, I almost envy those who can only feel shadows of what they once felt in their lives, and who can only "love" through blood bonds.
Yet, while all seems lost, remember how we have managed to love one another without having had a single taste of each other's blood. That alone defies what we know about our kind, and can give us at least some bit of hope. It is our star that though small, manages to give a small bit of light in the darkness. You are not completely lost in your Beast; for as long as you can write to me in such sorrow regarding your state, your regret shows that you are more human than you realize.
Still, it remains far too hubristic for us to think of ourselves above the fate of our kind. What is a Requiem, but one last mass for the dead? While the dirge may give the mourners momentary comfort, it cannot bring the dead back to life. Like how the dead can only be "alive" in memories, Kindred can only live through things they experienced in their lives. Therefore, we both shall wear the flower of the Locust tree, as a reminder that our love somehow managed to form beyond the grave.
While it is not safe for us to go on as we have with one another, do not think that the Flower Maiden has betrayed her Shadow Prince. Even if it feels as though all is lost, know that I love you.
Always With You,
Narcissa
Xavier looks to Mereni’s body again, hoping that the words have reached him. He smiles sadly as he reaches into his pocket again, replacing the letter there but removing a small, worn tin in its place, as he opens it, he speaks quietly.
"Master Vertith, you have taught me a lesson this evening. You wear the stains of your sins upon your clothing and yet you have managed to maintain -something- within you that is worthy of our pity. I bring you a blossom from the locust tree so that you may fulfill the wishes of your love."
He sets the blossom on Mereni’s body, then turns to walk away.
"You have become a slave to the most foul of vices. Nonetheless we are agents of Fate, and I am afraid we are not capable of judging the worthiness of your redemption. That is the purview of God alone. Good bye Master Mereni."
Those gathered step forward, and some appear as if from nowhere - including the rather prominent form of a large, growling panther - and it is only a single, terribly vicious moment before Vertith Mereni is slain. His body begins to fall to ashes quickly, as if his time on God’s earth had been extended too long. Weapons are replaced, and some turn quickly back into the house. Ghoren nods once, as if satisfied, and shapeshifts quickly, his bird form taking wing into the dark skies.
Zanovia looks to those that remain, her eyes settling on Father Damien. “You are welcome anytime. Thank you for following through. Your city should praise your bravery and your contribution to its survival.” She looks over those gathered. “The Spears in our area have suffered from apathy far too long. My hope is that this is the beginning of a new era.”
She raises her voice for a moment, speaking to all present. “Thank you, thank you all. Tonight truly proved the power of God's plan. With little hope and little to go on, we still succeeded to thwart an agent of evil.”
With that, the gathered Sanctified begin the process of cleaning up. The Adversary’s belongings are gathered, his ashes scattered. Egan glances up from the task, and asks “Is there anyone who would rather not have their name associated with the actions taken tonight?”
Monday, January 26, 2009
Hi, my name is...
The crowds dispersed, and the state returned to semi-normalcy. The court of His majesty, Prince Romero Maladante was held as scheduled. We were invited to the seven deadly sins, as per the norm, save this time we met prior to formal Court, in a separate location within the building -not- deemed Elysium. During the meeting itself, Master Montoya announced a proposition. He asked us all to individually reintroduce ourselves to the court and to speak briefly as to better get to know one another. He began with himself and so one by one individuals began the process.
Early on in the process I noted that Alder Murdoch and his new childe made a late entrance. I must admit, his presence made me feel ill, though judging by the expression on his face, he was more uncomfortable coming out of the woodwork.
I know the stories that many of the city's resident have under their belts, but nonetheless the elders of the city are not storytellers. I found myself drawn to the newer members of the court, their stories unknown and fresh. I was most disappointing by Master Santiago and Lord Devonshire. Rather than serve as an example to the other members of the praxis, they chose to cling to their pride and make an arrogant statements of infamy. They are fooling no one. You see, the largest flaw to the event was a lack of preparation. Individuals became so focused on what they could say to impress the collective, that many focused on what they would say once it came around for them to speak, or in the case of Master Santiago, how they could steal the show. Master Montoya would have had much more success had he given individuals several days warning to prepare a statement rather than a few minutes.
Master Santiago did remind me of the legacy left behind by Her Grace, Duchess E. Wyndham. It is most unfortunate that the duchy over so many cities were given so hastily.
It was then decided that court proper would be held in Elysium. I found the choice to be backwards. Elysium should be a place to foster discussion. A prince that holds court in Elysium handicaps himself. Beyond that, Elysium should be a location which the praxis wishes to remain unscathed, not a safe house with which to entice members to attend court. Court is attended because the Prince requires it, and that should suffice for all.
Master Bosen Walker approached me between the two locations asking for mercy in some regard. I found the act to be self incriminating, and mildly pathetic. Nonetheless he expressed an uncharacteristic degree of respect for which I am grateful. I will find out who was responsible for the antics at the Santa Fe gathering, and only after the details have been confirmed shall he have my ear.
In Elysium itself, conversations continued. We were kept waiting for a few minutes, and in came the procession. After presentations, Father Cade announced his support for Sister Morgan Vaughn as bishop. The Lancea Sanctum has been having internal issues since well before Arthur Samuels left the Sanctified. I was happy that Sister Vaughn was now acting Bishop, but the idea that Cade was somehow advocating it somehow soiled the victory. I fear that his stamp of approval will ruin the opinions of influential Sanctified, and I have been working for sometime to make sure she got there on her own accord. Best laid plans.
On the subject of Bishop Vaughn, she gave me that knowing look pleading for some sort of support. I realized I had not brought up the situation regarding Mr. Finnegan. Master Santiago was appropriately accused of attempted murder, and so the back and forth began anew. Mr Finnegan proved that not only was he a terrible excuse of an assassin, he was an incompetent kindred overall with no abilities to tailor his behavior once he had been caught. Father Cade asked of me to hand the investigation to the Mekhet as a whole. He paid the appropriate prestation under the pretense that I would have final say as to whether or not the situation had been resolved. I have plans for Master Santiago. He will never learn.
The situation with Ethel escalated to an interesting level. She now claims domain over Santa Fe with the blessing of former Regent, Master Santiago. I wonder if he has gone insane or merely grasps at straws to gain any ground these days. He would do himself a great service in finding better company. Lord knows, her monstrous behaviors are rubbing off.
Early on in the process I noted that Alder Murdoch and his new childe made a late entrance. I must admit, his presence made me feel ill, though judging by the expression on his face, he was more uncomfortable coming out of the woodwork.
I know the stories that many of the city's resident have under their belts, but nonetheless the elders of the city are not storytellers. I found myself drawn to the newer members of the court, their stories unknown and fresh. I was most disappointing by Master Santiago and Lord Devonshire. Rather than serve as an example to the other members of the praxis, they chose to cling to their pride and make an arrogant statements of infamy. They are fooling no one. You see, the largest flaw to the event was a lack of preparation. Individuals became so focused on what they could say to impress the collective, that many focused on what they would say once it came around for them to speak, or in the case of Master Santiago, how they could steal the show. Master Montoya would have had much more success had he given individuals several days warning to prepare a statement rather than a few minutes.
Master Santiago did remind me of the legacy left behind by Her Grace, Duchess E. Wyndham. It is most unfortunate that the duchy over so many cities were given so hastily.
It was then decided that court proper would be held in Elysium. I found the choice to be backwards. Elysium should be a place to foster discussion. A prince that holds court in Elysium handicaps himself. Beyond that, Elysium should be a location which the praxis wishes to remain unscathed, not a safe house with which to entice members to attend court. Court is attended because the Prince requires it, and that should suffice for all.
Master Bosen Walker approached me between the two locations asking for mercy in some regard. I found the act to be self incriminating, and mildly pathetic. Nonetheless he expressed an uncharacteristic degree of respect for which I am grateful. I will find out who was responsible for the antics at the Santa Fe gathering, and only after the details have been confirmed shall he have my ear.
In Elysium itself, conversations continued. We were kept waiting for a few minutes, and in came the procession. After presentations, Father Cade announced his support for Sister Morgan Vaughn as bishop. The Lancea Sanctum has been having internal issues since well before Arthur Samuels left the Sanctified. I was happy that Sister Vaughn was now acting Bishop, but the idea that Cade was somehow advocating it somehow soiled the victory. I fear that his stamp of approval will ruin the opinions of influential Sanctified, and I have been working for sometime to make sure she got there on her own accord. Best laid plans.
On the subject of Bishop Vaughn, she gave me that knowing look pleading for some sort of support. I realized I had not brought up the situation regarding Mr. Finnegan. Master Santiago was appropriately accused of attempted murder, and so the back and forth began anew. Mr Finnegan proved that not only was he a terrible excuse of an assassin, he was an incompetent kindred overall with no abilities to tailor his behavior once he had been caught. Father Cade asked of me to hand the investigation to the Mekhet as a whole. He paid the appropriate prestation under the pretense that I would have final say as to whether or not the situation had been resolved. I have plans for Master Santiago. He will never learn.
The situation with Ethel escalated to an interesting level. She now claims domain over Santa Fe with the blessing of former Regent, Master Santiago. I wonder if he has gone insane or merely grasps at straws to gain any ground these days. He would do himself a great service in finding better company. Lord knows, her monstrous behaviors are rubbing off.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Santa Fe, city of peace?
OOC: some of the sequence of events are likely off due to the sheer amount of scenes. This is a player mistake. The diary would not suffer from this issue.
Kindred from near and far gathered in Santa Fe this weekend to celebrate the period of peace within the state; a premise which has cost many of us blood, sweat, and turmoil. This situation is a construct of the kindred condition. We create a veneer for everyone to see, to hide away all the ugly that pervades the our requiem. It is our individual choice whether or not to revel and celebrate what is accomplished in said veneer, to ruin its integrity for others by pointing out that it is simply a veneer, or to use its mantle as a means to further your agenda. I have been called a fool before, but I very much intend to foster that peace so long as it lasts.
As in all things, there are exceptions and hypocrisies that are a needed element to this process. This month, I lost a dear friend to me: Prince Donaghan of Colorado Springs. When I heard of his demise, and the circumstances surrounding it my rage was indeed great. Emotions wax and wane, and now I have the clarity to see what must be done and the patience mustered to collect on my vendetta. It is a shame the murderers of Prince Donaghan did not attend our soiree. I had a pleasant welcome awaiting them.
When I arrived on scene, I was displeased to hear that the Invictus procession had been cancelled in the interests of expediency. No matter. I took a position at the head table and looked out into the crowd. Master Santiago welcomed our guests and apologized for the tardiness of the council of bishops. I commend him on his speaking abilities, even considering the rather bland nature of the topic at hand.
I stood to take the stage for a moment, readdressed my stance regarding the state, and formally extended my hand to the proxy of Prince Sullivan, Bishop Sebaska. I always get the impression that he sees me as artificial, an underlying sense of disdain and fear pervading his very being. It is for this fear of leadership, this lack of quality, that Bishop Sebaska will never become Archbishop Sebaska. Nonetheless, he took my hand and exchanged kind words, and the gesture is respected.
I took to the floor and began the process of socialization. Our guests were welcoming and respectful. They included dignitaries such as Sir Johnny Walker, Prince Harrison of Los Angeles, Prince Rathstein of Austin, the personality known as Lord Astor, the Carthian mastermind Alexander Thibodeaux, and many others. Rumour had it that Alder Aleksander Murdoch was also present. I was most pleased to see the return of Baron LaRoque as well.
That rumour was confirmed when Master Santiago came to us distressed that his prized ghoul had been embraced. It was both surprising and disappointing. Alder Murdoch operates in ways I would deem as insane, but there is a method to his madness that demands the caution of others. It must have been a powerful blow to the ego of Master Santiago, but in a way I see it as a karmic toll for all of his own machinations. One good turn deserves another.
Mass followed shortly thereafter. It was announced that we were to have an Invictus meeting, though I made it clear that I intended to attend mass, and that the Invictus meeting would honor the tradition of waiting for its elders. I was pleasantly surprised by the content of Bishop Sebaska's first mass. It was a quality reading from the book of Longinus followed by partaking of blood from the chalice. Very simple and to the point. I would suggest to him to abbreviate the next reading as to not lose his audience and amend speaking to his congregation on what is to be learned and applied from said reading.
Shortly following mass I was approached by Mr. Thomas of the Ordo. He exclaimed to me that he was privy to a meeting in which he was informed that my clothing were now worth boons, especially my sash, which was to be worth a major boon. I found the idea amusing albeit perturbing. It was also made known that the individual would provide a major boon for presenting him a staked member of Alder Aurelius' house. The matter became more pester some when some of our guests from the Carthian Movement chastised Mr. Thomas for letting the proverbial cat out of the bag. The meeting was then explained to me in some detail, but Mr. Bosen Walker, Prince Maladante and Aleksander Murdoch were all implicated in the matter. The matter to this day is confusing. Who did what and said what is a mystery to me, but nonetheless became the subject of my obsessions for the remainder of the evening.
During my last conversation with the Carthians, I was made aware of a situation in which Wraith Wax was attacked by Mr. Finnegan of the Invictus. I will say I was amused by the notion, but that amusement was overshadowed by the concern I had regarding the peace between our two cities. I am certain that an attack against Wraith would be seen not as the extermination of an accomplice to one of the more foul monsters I had encountered, and more of an attack against an officer of the Rio Rancho court. Lord Astor filled me in on the situation, and a large group of individuals formed a ring outside the bounds of Elysium. Mr. Finnegan was interrogated, during which a name I had never heard of before was brought up. Nonetheless, the brazen attack on Miss Wax would likely cost me in some fashion down the road, and so I had to resist the urge to squish Mr. Finnegan like the liability he had proven himself to be. Nonetheless, I had to agree with Lord Astor in that Mr. Finnegan needed an Au Pair, and as the only one present, I begrudgingly agreed to take him on.
When I returned to the event I came upon Mr. Carter destroying the diablerist responsible for the absence of the council of bishops of Santa Fe before the entirety of the assembled guests. There was a mild sense of regret in not being aware nor being able to participate in said execution, but the matter was settled and I was satisfied. Sir Walker commended Mr. Carter to me personally, and suggested some prestation for him during our next court. Master Santiago took the stage, upon which he declared himself acting Regent of Santa Fe.
Shortly thereafter a matter concerning the strix reared its head. Mr. Maxwell of the Ordo was to be checked for possession. Sir Finch confirmed that indeed, he was not. The accusers also accused Miss. Wraith Wax of acting particularly suspiciously when asked to be confirmed as well, so much so that she seemed to take offense and fled the grounds. Lord Astor and Acolyte Tek decided that they would ensure she would be found and cleared of possession. I left them to their own devices to hunt her down.
Sir Walker returned with information from Mr. JD. He said to me that Mr. Bosen Walker and Prince Maladante were responsible for the invitations, and boon exchange earlier brought to my attention. Conversations changed and so came the topic of the machinations of Aleksander Murdoch once again. Prince Maladante was asked if he was responsible for the invitations and he denied that he was involved. His aura did not betray his honesty. I asked Lord Astor to retrieve Alder Murdoch for me. He gleefully complied.
I then met with Mr. Cosmo, also of the Ordo. Mr Cosmo was one of the more interesting individuals I had encountered in some time. He has a predatory feel about him that made you feel like a piece of meat. Nonetheless his talents at bathing were unmatched by any Galloi I had previously encountered. I followed him, Viscount Eric in tow, to the bus haven that this creature inhabited. He provided me with lacrima grown from the vitae of the Ventrue, and a massage. My relaxation would not last, as my absence from the event would not be tolerated. I apologized to Mr. Cosmo as an almost carnival-esque cavalcade of personalities entered his haven to exchange conversation with us. This which were deemed insurmountably important by Prince Maladante and Master Montoya were cast to the winds of mystery. I never knew what it was that they wanted me to attend to. If I had left, the bath would not take, and my desire to see Alder Murdoch humiliated would not allow me to do so.
The second call of the evening was from Sister Morgan. She came to the bus and showed to me the bolt lodged in her back where Mister Finnegan had been hired by Master Santiago to destroy her. I realized then that Mister Finnegan was not with me. Mister Finnegan either has the acuity of a child or is a masochist. I filed it away to be dealt with, my bath was complete.
Upon returning, I was pulled aside yet again by Sir Walker, this time to address Master Santiago's desire to destroy her former ghoul for the violation of the second Tradition. Sir Walker thought it gauche to destroy the victim of the crime, and made it his goal to ensure she would not only survive, but receive acknowledgement from the Santa Fe Court. As acting Regent, Master Santiago took the stage and announced the acknowledgement of his former ghoul, now childe of Aleksander Murdoch. Lord Astor Returned with Alder Murdoch just in time to witness her acknowledgement. He seemed pleased. How awkward.
We spoke a few seconds, the meaningless motions surrounding his usual greetings, and moved toward a table in the rear. It seemed as though we had our Invictus meeting after all.
Master Santiago and Alder Murdoch hashed out their differences regarding the illegitimate childe. Boons were exchanged, as well as a fair helping of interplay between the two. I am most disappointed in the assembled parties in some regard. The traditions were brought up, and the rational behind some of them, but as in all things the core traditions have purpose. The prince sanctions an embrace to control the kindred population he is responsible for, ensure that the herd is able to support said population, and thus preserve the masquerade. For Alder Murdoch to claim that he had embraced his new childe outside the bounds of the city spoke volumes of him. He is dishonorable. Nonetheless the matter had been resolved and so I was disinterested in pushing the matter needlessly.
I now had the floor regarding personal matters at hand. I tossed my sash on the table to claim my major boon from him. Alder Murdoch was questions to which he denied involvement. He seemed to be speaking truth, but the Sir Finch's psychometry said otherwise. I tasked him with clearing his name. He in turn offered me a boon in holding until such a time when his name was cleared.
Sir Walker asked for my presence at my last meeting for the evening. This was a matter concerning the Ordo, the rise of the brides of Dracula, and army of brood in Russia. I had not heard of the ordeal, but it certainly sounded like something that would soon reverberate through the collective requiem of us all.
Ah, the evening was over, or so I thought. Baron Laroque came to me seeking something be done about the missing relics. Apparently members of the movement had stolen them. Sir Walker stated plainly that he had the Invictus sword. Baron Laroque seemed perplexed by the notion of taking it without the consensus of the Invictus. It became an argument in which Sir Walker looked to be harboring a thief, and Baron LaRoque to be a back talking subordinate who doesn't know when to be quiet. I knew neither was the case, but I was not certain Sir Walker nor Baron LaRoque knew this of the other. With some simple diplomacy the situation was resolved. The sword would be returned to the Invictus of New Mexico after some study.
Prince Rathstein approached me at the tail end of the gathering as we were all readying ourselves to leave. He knew who had penned the invitations, and the situation surrounding the rumors flying about throughout the evening. Nonetheless he could not tell me as it would be breaking his word to someone else. I respected his position, and appreciated the gesture. It left me with just enough information to come to a conclusion: I need to find another Lynx.
Kindred from near and far gathered in Santa Fe this weekend to celebrate the period of peace within the state; a premise which has cost many of us blood, sweat, and turmoil. This situation is a construct of the kindred condition. We create a veneer for everyone to see, to hide away all the ugly that pervades the our requiem. It is our individual choice whether or not to revel and celebrate what is accomplished in said veneer, to ruin its integrity for others by pointing out that it is simply a veneer, or to use its mantle as a means to further your agenda. I have been called a fool before, but I very much intend to foster that peace so long as it lasts.
As in all things, there are exceptions and hypocrisies that are a needed element to this process. This month, I lost a dear friend to me: Prince Donaghan of Colorado Springs. When I heard of his demise, and the circumstances surrounding it my rage was indeed great. Emotions wax and wane, and now I have the clarity to see what must be done and the patience mustered to collect on my vendetta. It is a shame the murderers of Prince Donaghan did not attend our soiree. I had a pleasant welcome awaiting them.
When I arrived on scene, I was displeased to hear that the Invictus procession had been cancelled in the interests of expediency. No matter. I took a position at the head table and looked out into the crowd. Master Santiago welcomed our guests and apologized for the tardiness of the council of bishops. I commend him on his speaking abilities, even considering the rather bland nature of the topic at hand.
I stood to take the stage for a moment, readdressed my stance regarding the state, and formally extended my hand to the proxy of Prince Sullivan, Bishop Sebaska. I always get the impression that he sees me as artificial, an underlying sense of disdain and fear pervading his very being. It is for this fear of leadership, this lack of quality, that Bishop Sebaska will never become Archbishop Sebaska. Nonetheless, he took my hand and exchanged kind words, and the gesture is respected.
I took to the floor and began the process of socialization. Our guests were welcoming and respectful. They included dignitaries such as Sir Johnny Walker, Prince Harrison of Los Angeles, Prince Rathstein of Austin, the personality known as Lord Astor, the Carthian mastermind Alexander Thibodeaux, and many others. Rumour had it that Alder Aleksander Murdoch was also present. I was most pleased to see the return of Baron LaRoque as well.
That rumour was confirmed when Master Santiago came to us distressed that his prized ghoul had been embraced. It was both surprising and disappointing. Alder Murdoch operates in ways I would deem as insane, but there is a method to his madness that demands the caution of others. It must have been a powerful blow to the ego of Master Santiago, but in a way I see it as a karmic toll for all of his own machinations. One good turn deserves another.
Mass followed shortly thereafter. It was announced that we were to have an Invictus meeting, though I made it clear that I intended to attend mass, and that the Invictus meeting would honor the tradition of waiting for its elders. I was pleasantly surprised by the content of Bishop Sebaska's first mass. It was a quality reading from the book of Longinus followed by partaking of blood from the chalice. Very simple and to the point. I would suggest to him to abbreviate the next reading as to not lose his audience and amend speaking to his congregation on what is to be learned and applied from said reading.
Shortly following mass I was approached by Mr. Thomas of the Ordo. He exclaimed to me that he was privy to a meeting in which he was informed that my clothing were now worth boons, especially my sash, which was to be worth a major boon. I found the idea amusing albeit perturbing. It was also made known that the individual would provide a major boon for presenting him a staked member of Alder Aurelius' house. The matter became more pester some when some of our guests from the Carthian Movement chastised Mr. Thomas for letting the proverbial cat out of the bag. The meeting was then explained to me in some detail, but Mr. Bosen Walker, Prince Maladante and Aleksander Murdoch were all implicated in the matter. The matter to this day is confusing. Who did what and said what is a mystery to me, but nonetheless became the subject of my obsessions for the remainder of the evening.
During my last conversation with the Carthians, I was made aware of a situation in which Wraith Wax was attacked by Mr. Finnegan of the Invictus. I will say I was amused by the notion, but that amusement was overshadowed by the concern I had regarding the peace between our two cities. I am certain that an attack against Wraith would be seen not as the extermination of an accomplice to one of the more foul monsters I had encountered, and more of an attack against an officer of the Rio Rancho court. Lord Astor filled me in on the situation, and a large group of individuals formed a ring outside the bounds of Elysium. Mr. Finnegan was interrogated, during which a name I had never heard of before was brought up. Nonetheless, the brazen attack on Miss Wax would likely cost me in some fashion down the road, and so I had to resist the urge to squish Mr. Finnegan like the liability he had proven himself to be. Nonetheless, I had to agree with Lord Astor in that Mr. Finnegan needed an Au Pair, and as the only one present, I begrudgingly agreed to take him on.
When I returned to the event I came upon Mr. Carter destroying the diablerist responsible for the absence of the council of bishops of Santa Fe before the entirety of the assembled guests. There was a mild sense of regret in not being aware nor being able to participate in said execution, but the matter was settled and I was satisfied. Sir Walker commended Mr. Carter to me personally, and suggested some prestation for him during our next court. Master Santiago took the stage, upon which he declared himself acting Regent of Santa Fe.
Shortly thereafter a matter concerning the strix reared its head. Mr. Maxwell of the Ordo was to be checked for possession. Sir Finch confirmed that indeed, he was not. The accusers also accused Miss. Wraith Wax of acting particularly suspiciously when asked to be confirmed as well, so much so that she seemed to take offense and fled the grounds. Lord Astor and Acolyte Tek decided that they would ensure she would be found and cleared of possession. I left them to their own devices to hunt her down.
Sir Walker returned with information from Mr. JD. He said to me that Mr. Bosen Walker and Prince Maladante were responsible for the invitations, and boon exchange earlier brought to my attention. Conversations changed and so came the topic of the machinations of Aleksander Murdoch once again. Prince Maladante was asked if he was responsible for the invitations and he denied that he was involved. His aura did not betray his honesty. I asked Lord Astor to retrieve Alder Murdoch for me. He gleefully complied.
I then met with Mr. Cosmo, also of the Ordo. Mr Cosmo was one of the more interesting individuals I had encountered in some time. He has a predatory feel about him that made you feel like a piece of meat. Nonetheless his talents at bathing were unmatched by any Galloi I had previously encountered. I followed him, Viscount Eric in tow, to the bus haven that this creature inhabited. He provided me with lacrima grown from the vitae of the Ventrue, and a massage. My relaxation would not last, as my absence from the event would not be tolerated. I apologized to Mr. Cosmo as an almost carnival-esque cavalcade of personalities entered his haven to exchange conversation with us. This which were deemed insurmountably important by Prince Maladante and Master Montoya were cast to the winds of mystery. I never knew what it was that they wanted me to attend to. If I had left, the bath would not take, and my desire to see Alder Murdoch humiliated would not allow me to do so.
The second call of the evening was from Sister Morgan. She came to the bus and showed to me the bolt lodged in her back where Mister Finnegan had been hired by Master Santiago to destroy her. I realized then that Mister Finnegan was not with me. Mister Finnegan either has the acuity of a child or is a masochist. I filed it away to be dealt with, my bath was complete.
Upon returning, I was pulled aside yet again by Sir Walker, this time to address Master Santiago's desire to destroy her former ghoul for the violation of the second Tradition. Sir Walker thought it gauche to destroy the victim of the crime, and made it his goal to ensure she would not only survive, but receive acknowledgement from the Santa Fe Court. As acting Regent, Master Santiago took the stage and announced the acknowledgement of his former ghoul, now childe of Aleksander Murdoch. Lord Astor Returned with Alder Murdoch just in time to witness her acknowledgement. He seemed pleased. How awkward.
We spoke a few seconds, the meaningless motions surrounding his usual greetings, and moved toward a table in the rear. It seemed as though we had our Invictus meeting after all.
Master Santiago and Alder Murdoch hashed out their differences regarding the illegitimate childe. Boons were exchanged, as well as a fair helping of interplay between the two. I am most disappointed in the assembled parties in some regard. The traditions were brought up, and the rational behind some of them, but as in all things the core traditions have purpose. The prince sanctions an embrace to control the kindred population he is responsible for, ensure that the herd is able to support said population, and thus preserve the masquerade. For Alder Murdoch to claim that he had embraced his new childe outside the bounds of the city spoke volumes of him. He is dishonorable. Nonetheless the matter had been resolved and so I was disinterested in pushing the matter needlessly.
I now had the floor regarding personal matters at hand. I tossed my sash on the table to claim my major boon from him. Alder Murdoch was questions to which he denied involvement. He seemed to be speaking truth, but the Sir Finch's psychometry said otherwise. I tasked him with clearing his name. He in turn offered me a boon in holding until such a time when his name was cleared.
Sir Walker asked for my presence at my last meeting for the evening. This was a matter concerning the Ordo, the rise of the brides of Dracula, and army of brood in Russia. I had not heard of the ordeal, but it certainly sounded like something that would soon reverberate through the collective requiem of us all.
Ah, the evening was over, or so I thought. Baron Laroque came to me seeking something be done about the missing relics. Apparently members of the movement had stolen them. Sir Walker stated plainly that he had the Invictus sword. Baron Laroque seemed perplexed by the notion of taking it without the consensus of the Invictus. It became an argument in which Sir Walker looked to be harboring a thief, and Baron LaRoque to be a back talking subordinate who doesn't know when to be quiet. I knew neither was the case, but I was not certain Sir Walker nor Baron LaRoque knew this of the other. With some simple diplomacy the situation was resolved. The sword would be returned to the Invictus of New Mexico after some study.
Prince Rathstein approached me at the tail end of the gathering as we were all readying ourselves to leave. He knew who had penned the invitations, and the situation surrounding the rumors flying about throughout the evening. Nonetheless he could not tell me as it would be breaking his word to someone else. I respected his position, and appreciated the gesture. It left me with just enough information to come to a conclusion: I need to find another Lynx.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Lady Luck favors the bold?
It is a bizarre occurrence that happens not infrequently when kindred society gathers, drops prior grudges, and cooperates. This past evening was one of those nights. We did not hold court, there was no kindred politics, and the external forces constantly battering at our collective's metaphorical gates just seemed to pause. One might say that the Requiem itself came to a screeching halt, all for the sake of a poker game.
On the game:
Master Santiago provided hospitality as well as the premise: gambling. Individuals were asked to buy into the game with a minor boon. This seemed rather benign, so I decided to participate regardless of my poor history with the game. Sitting down at the table, I understood that it was highly probably I would walk away one boon in the "red", which made the game all the more entertaining. Sure enough, the acolytes began to take a decisive lead early on but as in all games of chance, luck is fickle. It seems as though some karmic retribution or perhaps unchecked recklessness took Master Santiago out of the game before anyone else. Miss Clarissa, one of the newer acolytes, came in like a lion but exited Second. The game began to drag onward when only Mr. Sunshine, "Thomas," and I were left. The chips would flow in, and out, and just as soon as Mr. Thomas looked as though he was out for good, he began an amazing streak of victories. In an effort to take him out of the equation, or myself for that matter, I decided to go "all in" on a blind. One would consider this an unfavorable move, but the game grew stagnant and uninteresting with the pattern it was falling into. The cards were turned and shortly I was out of the game. C'est la vie.
The two victors from the other table joined ours and the game continued. Father Cade came into the game with a decisive lead, but it seemed that Sister Morgan would have none of it. She practically took all of the chips from Mr. Sunshine, and Mr. Thomas by herself. When the chips were counted, Father Cade had a marginal 10 pt lead. Morgan would loose chips and then in a bold move, doubled her pool. Again she began to loose, the anti at an all time high, and so the duo decided to go all in on the final hand. Two pair a piece, with the higher pair in the hands of Father Cade. Father Cade had won the tournament. I look forward to seeing what machinations are in store for the court as a result of this victory.
On the individuals:
It becomes difficult to trust Master Santiago, regardless of appearances, when boons are on the line. He is a slave to the very nature of his blood, and so he must be treated like a poisonous toad. The toads intentions may not be to kill the stork, but his nature is volatile nonetheless.
To see him go so soon in the game was good, though his mirth spoke volumes.
During the first few rounds, I was approached by Miss Narcissa. She was a bit off throughout the evening. She was aloof, and acted as though she wanted to speak to me, yet couldn't bring herself to breech whatever was dominating her mind. She gave me a letter to give to Alder Vertith Mereni during our upcoming gathering. I agreed to this. Then peculiarly she asked me if I was going to kill him. I've never given her the faintest impression I had any intent to do so, so it lends credibility to the rumors that he is a diablerist. I could not bring myself to give her the answer she wanted, so I instead offered her the answer I could; "It will depend on him." She nodded, and I returned to my hand.
I must say, that I was pleasantly surprised by the level of depth to the other indivuduals at the table, most notably Miss Clarissa. She has a level of sophistication and wit I found unexpected, especially for a member of the Ventrue clan. She was clever both in conversation and in her skill with cards.
Mr. Thomas had a great deal of mirth and was generally very pleasant. I have as of yet to understand what covenant he belongs to, but the repeated references from Miss Clarissa pegged him as a member of the Gangrel clan.
Mr. Sunshine was in high spirits up until a visitng member of the Carthian Movement became our dealer. He was mildly irate at the man, but gradually warmed up to his expertise in gambling. Las Vegas has its peculiar perks.
Once Sister Morgan cleaned out the Acolytes, I leaned in and jested to her "It seems as though you have my money." She smiled in amusement.
I could see a light in her eyes die when the final hand was dealt. The smug look on Father Cade's face cut deep into her mischievous facade. It will certainly be interesting to see how exactly Father Cade will make use of his boons.
On the game:
Master Santiago provided hospitality as well as the premise: gambling. Individuals were asked to buy into the game with a minor boon. This seemed rather benign, so I decided to participate regardless of my poor history with the game. Sitting down at the table, I understood that it was highly probably I would walk away one boon in the "red", which made the game all the more entertaining. Sure enough, the acolytes began to take a decisive lead early on but as in all games of chance, luck is fickle. It seems as though some karmic retribution or perhaps unchecked recklessness took Master Santiago out of the game before anyone else. Miss Clarissa, one of the newer acolytes, came in like a lion but exited Second. The game began to drag onward when only Mr. Sunshine, "Thomas," and I were left. The chips would flow in, and out, and just as soon as Mr. Thomas looked as though he was out for good, he began an amazing streak of victories. In an effort to take him out of the equation, or myself for that matter, I decided to go "all in" on a blind. One would consider this an unfavorable move, but the game grew stagnant and uninteresting with the pattern it was falling into. The cards were turned and shortly I was out of the game. C'est la vie.
The two victors from the other table joined ours and the game continued. Father Cade came into the game with a decisive lead, but it seemed that Sister Morgan would have none of it. She practically took all of the chips from Mr. Sunshine, and Mr. Thomas by herself. When the chips were counted, Father Cade had a marginal 10 pt lead. Morgan would loose chips and then in a bold move, doubled her pool. Again she began to loose, the anti at an all time high, and so the duo decided to go all in on the final hand. Two pair a piece, with the higher pair in the hands of Father Cade. Father Cade had won the tournament. I look forward to seeing what machinations are in store for the court as a result of this victory.
On the individuals:
It becomes difficult to trust Master Santiago, regardless of appearances, when boons are on the line. He is a slave to the very nature of his blood, and so he must be treated like a poisonous toad. The toads intentions may not be to kill the stork, but his nature is volatile nonetheless.
To see him go so soon in the game was good, though his mirth spoke volumes.
During the first few rounds, I was approached by Miss Narcissa. She was a bit off throughout the evening. She was aloof, and acted as though she wanted to speak to me, yet couldn't bring herself to breech whatever was dominating her mind. She gave me a letter to give to Alder Vertith Mereni during our upcoming gathering. I agreed to this. Then peculiarly she asked me if I was going to kill him. I've never given her the faintest impression I had any intent to do so, so it lends credibility to the rumors that he is a diablerist. I could not bring myself to give her the answer she wanted, so I instead offered her the answer I could; "It will depend on him." She nodded, and I returned to my hand.
I must say, that I was pleasantly surprised by the level of depth to the other indivuduals at the table, most notably Miss Clarissa. She has a level of sophistication and wit I found unexpected, especially for a member of the Ventrue clan. She was clever both in conversation and in her skill with cards.
Mr. Thomas had a great deal of mirth and was generally very pleasant. I have as of yet to understand what covenant he belongs to, but the repeated references from Miss Clarissa pegged him as a member of the Gangrel clan.
Mr. Sunshine was in high spirits up until a visitng member of the Carthian Movement became our dealer. He was mildly irate at the man, but gradually warmed up to his expertise in gambling. Las Vegas has its peculiar perks.
Once Sister Morgan cleaned out the Acolytes, I leaned in and jested to her "It seems as though you have my money." She smiled in amusement.
I could see a light in her eyes die when the final hand was dealt. The smug look on Father Cade's face cut deep into her mischievous facade. It will certainly be interesting to see how exactly Father Cade will make use of his boons.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
I am losing myself...
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.
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.
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