{V:tM - IC} New York by Night

[Catulle]

South of Carnegie Hill, Manhatten
Wednesday, 11th December 2002

Max's companion grunted a reply to his pleasantries under his breath. Despite the chill, he didn't wear gloves nor did the pocketwatch leave his left hand for a moment.

"You brought weapons. Good. With luck, you won't need them. I'm David Morgan, by the way. I was Calebros' scourge, now it seems I'm New York's." His face twisted into a deliberate smile. "Thepclay says you're good with a pistol, and nasty up close. Are you?"

They approached a dark-coloured sedan parked so deep in the shadows that Max had trouble recognising the manufacturer. The lights pulsed, once, as the alarm deactivated, and David got into the driver's seat, motioning around the hood to the passenger side at his accomplice. "We can talk more on the way." He added, by way of explaination.

 

[KitanaVorr]

Caitlyn’s Current Theme

Somewhere on the streets of Manhattan
Wednesday, 11th December 2002

The melody...gone...her heart felt forsaken...empty...a crater of blackness. She had to know, to remember...the not remembering was infinitely worse.

Caitlyn stretched out her small hand to him, the money clasped in her fingers. No illusions danced about her head at his words. She knew that the money would be levied into alcohol or worse, drugs. The man looked as if forgetting was the only way to live. But who was she, just as guilty as he, to argue with hypocrisy on her tongue?

If and when he reached out to take the money, her fingers held on to his momentarily, dark eyes grasping his gaze but for a brief piercing moment. "Spend it on whatever you want."

 

[Catulle]

Crown Plaza Hotel, Montague Family Suite
Wednesday December 11th, 2003

The oak doors swung easily open at Sabrina's touch, a feat of strength that would have seemed all but impossible to the child but two weeks earlier. They glid quickly over the boards of the study floor in two broad, swift arcs and bumped to rest against the sides of the cabinet wall with a final <thud>.

Framed in the light of the desk lamp, Carrick Ashton was already looking in Sabrina's direction, as if alerted to her presence even before she had taken the decision to open the door. His expression was nonchalant, amused, even as he folded himself back into one of the two overstuffed chairs Nathaniel kept for guests in his refuge.

Nathaniel looked up, turning from Carrick to face Sabrina. He glanced behind her, eyes catching Jemal's with a wry expression, before returning to his neice. His lips pursed into a thin smile. "Well, Jemal does have work to do. It probably just slipped his mind, my sweet." He rose to his feet from behind the desk. With his shirt unbuttoned at the top, tie undone and shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows he looked far less the starched veteran of the courts he had the other night at Elysium. Fatigue, perhaps, was evident in his eyes to close observation. He reached out to Sabrina, offering to lift her up as he walked over to a cabinet flush into the study wall.

Pulling down the door to form a leather-topped shelf, the contents - a collection of bottles and glasses - were made visible. The elder Ventrue drew out a cut crystal glass, broad-based and heavy in design which caught the low light, sending an array of tiny rainbows over the bottles which in turn refracted the light, throwing a luminescence across Nathan's face. He took out a heavy decanter, dark liquid sloshing thickly against the sides of the crystal and painting the inside crimson in its wake. One handed, he removed the stopper, pouring out the thick ichor into the glass, which he passed, deftly, to Sabrina.

(OOC - Sabrina self control - 10,5,4 - 1 success; good for whatever you do for 1 round which, if it involves drinking blood, will give her 2 points and end the stimulus)

 

[Shalimar]

Sabrina

Crown Plaza Hotel, Montague Family Suite
Wednesday December 11th, 2003

Sabrina ignores the thud of the doors against the cabinents, as she looks up at her Uncle, not quite sure how to take his answer. Her determined frown fell apart at the merest hint of her uncle's smile. She knew he would take care of it all now that he knew about it. He...he called me my sweet again. she thought flushing with pleasure. He hasn't called me that since before last week, does this mean he isn't angry with me any more? she wonders hopefully.

She let her uncle Lift her up and carry her across the room, her head lying against his shoulder until he sets her down gently. She watches him with wide eyes as he prepares her meal for her in its beautiful glass. She finds her eyes drawn more to the precious fluid then him, hungrily she watches every drop as it flows out of the decanter. She lets out a needy whimper as she is handed the glass. In a rush she brings the glass to her lips almost spilling the life giving liquid. Almost as soon as the glass touched her lips it was empty leaving a film along the glass, one that she tried futiley to lick up with her small pink tongue, trying to get each and every drop.

"More?" she asked her uncle hopefully, loving the taste of the vitae and not wanting to stop when there was still more availible.

 

[Festy_Dog]

"You brought weapons. Good. With luck, you won't need them. I'm David Morgan, by way. I was Calebros' scourge, now it seems I'm New York's."

"Good to meet you," Max replies.

"Thepclay says you're good with a pistol, and nasty up close. Are you?"

"I've got knowledge of a broad range of firearms, and if in the right mood I can be good up close," he says with a smile, "But my preferance is in hand guns."

Wow, the Scourge, this is gonna be good... Hmm, nice car.

Max nodded to David and got into the front passenger's seat, once inside the car he continued the conversation, assuming now that it would be alright to talk about what the night's activities held for them.

"So what exactly are we going to do? And what role am I going to play?" he asks casually.

 

[reapersaurus]

He sighed. "So tell me Nikolai. How did you get involved with Qadir in the first place?"

Nikolai stares blankly ahead, and answers numbly, casually lying to Gabriel as a matter of principle : "Oh, I was asked by my sire to do a favor and deliver a message to the good Sheriff."

Nikolai's gaze meanders back to Gabriel - "So tell _me_, Gabriel. How did you get involved with the Sabbat in the first place?"

 

[Catulle]

Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge
Wednesday 11th December, 2002

The scourge revved up the engine to a low purr, the car clearly well maintained and powerful despite its rather mundane facade. Like David himself? He certainly looked pretty average, the kind of guy Max would overlook in a crowd. Which was likely, on reflection, just what Calebros had been after when he appointed the Kindred to the position.

"Well, that'll depend." David commented as he looked on the road ahead, keeping Max in the corner of his eye as he did so, "we're taking a look into something that might just end up being nothing over on Staten Island. The territory's a little rough still, so I thought I'd get some help on board. I heard you did well in the business a few months back and you had Morgan to speak for you. And here we are." He eased into traffic along the bridge, and drummed his fingers impatiently on the wheel, before turning to face Max.

"I'd take the ferry but for the anarchs. Not that they're any real trouble, but slugging it out with them'd blow the discretion we were hoping for. Order of the night's investigation, not combat. Of course, if it's necessary..." He slumped back into his seat to wait out the queue.

 

[Catulle]

Crown Plaza Hotel, Montague Family Suite
Wednesday December 11th, 2002

Nathaniel looked down at his neice indulgently, perhaps only a hint reproachfully, as she finished the glass. "But what would a young lady say?" He raised his eyebrows as he did so, alleviating the sternness of his sharp features as he weighed the half-empty decanter in his right hand.

Carrick stood from his seat, moving around to the doors, and the two neonates framed in them. He offered his hand to Jemal as he reached their position. He was dressed as casually as his Ventrue counterpart, a silk shirt worn loose with jeans, but carried the simplicity well. "I am sorry we couldn't speak earlier, Jemal. Perhaps we'll have some more time at the club, once the immediate business is concluded. You may wish to meet the Kindred we've arranged to rendezvous with." He glanced to Vychrorya with a smile as he spoke, then returned his attention to Jemal, "I know my dearest Vychtorya has been trying to pry a hint of that from me these past nights..."

 

[Catulle]

Somewhere on the streets of Manhattan
Wednesday, 11th December 2002

The vagrant took the money with arm extended, wide eyes betraying some discomfort. "Thanks, lady." He muttered, as he turned from Caitlyn. He limped across the street, in the direction of the diner Cate had in mind, pulling his coat tight around him as he went, as if to shield himself against more than the cold.

The Crown plaza was a mere two blocks away, and Caitlyn's appointment awaited her.

 

[Catulle]

Claire's Diner
Wednesday December 11th, 2002

Through the glass front that looked out onto the sidewalk, the pair of Tremere could see a figure approach, broad-framed and stoop-shouldered, another of the city's vagrant population hobbled towards the diner. Most probably in search of refuge from the biting cold, he kept his coat pulled tight around his bulk as he opened the door and staggered in. His bare hand was clasped tight into a fist, and the stale odour that he emitted was immediately noticeable in the clean, still air of the diner.

Reaching the counter, he dropped some loose change out of his hand, picking at the coins, "Cuppa coffee, miss." he said, voice stumbling over the words as if they were unfamiliar things to him. As the waitress gingerly took the money, and poured the steaming liquid, he surged towards the restroom, leaving the door to swing in his wake.

The woman simply shrugged and set the jug back on the hot plate, "Stinkin' bum."