{V:tM - IC} New York by Night

[Catulle]

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

Nathan's gaze captured hers, and his eyes were caught suppended in an instant of remorse which seemed to last for an eternity, shrouded globes of brown, dark as teak. He leaned in close to her, head bowing before returning to attend to every detail of her face. His hand passsed near her hair, and she could smell him; a hint of woodsmoke, old paper and ancient leather clung to the man. It was not hard to imagine him enshrined in this room, which echoed him at every turn, for years at a time.

"No, Caitlyn, I am sorry. My selfish desires have brought you to this, and I want nothing more than to abate your pain, yet I fear the consequences of my aid. I wish I were a better man that I may resist temptation in this matter, but I am a base, self-serving creature."

His hand was upon her cheek now, even as his soft-rough voice insinuated itself into the tapestry of music she heard, accentuating his words. A quaver to his voice hinted at bitter tears welling up within, and guided her attention to his eyes.

"Forget, Cate. Forget about the fear, forget the pain it caused you, but remember only what was said without hostility, without regret."

His voice carried her away, spinning the music apart, dissecting the dissonant notes and weaving their themes back into a harmonious accord. 'Vychtorya' held no fear for her; it never had. And though the memory of her speech remained, the singer could recall it well, it took the guise of a polite request. The Beast was gone as if it had never existed. She swam in the lyrical flow a while longer, drifting through uncertain rhythms as she re-discovered the songs of memory after that point like she was hearing them for the first time.

"Forgive my intrusion, please, even if you never know of it..."

Cate returned to her senses, Nathaniel had withdrawn his hand from her face, and held hers again in perfect synchronicity with his earlier poise. It was as if time itself had stood still, though Carrick and Sabrina were out of sight and sound. A smile danced on the older man's lips, but his eyes betrayed sorrow.

"Will you accompany me?" he said.

(OOC - Nathaniel Forgetful Mind diff6 - 10,6,8,9,8,8,7 = 7 successes)

 

[Catulle]

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

Carrick didn't even attempt any resistance as Sabrina led him into the corridor, in fact his longer stride gave him little trouble in keeping pace with Sabrina's excited rush. At her request, he scooped up Sabrina easily into his arms. The Toreador's frame was more spare than her Uncle's, though he smelled very different. Like spices, maybe, though there was a hint of Nathan's smoke there, too. Perhaps they had been having cigars.

He nodded at Sabrina's questions, as if taking his time to consider every word, and walked along the corridor with her as he answered, "Oh, I think Nathaniel likes her very much indeed. I can see why; there's a depth of meaning to that girl lurking beneath the surface..." He cast her what she supposed could be a 'significant' look, like squinting. "...and we can tell things about the Kine, Sabrina, the Toreador are infamous for it."

"Nathan never could resist that. I wouldn't think marriage an option; the daytime services can be... tiresome for our Kindred, and your Uncle's identity is quite secret, I do believe. Has been for a couple of centuries now. No... The Embrace is out of the question, for the present time at least, though in a few years he may find the possibility attractive. It'd be a bit much at the moment, with two neonates to instruct already."

"But that's all speculation, Sabrina. While I hold myself a good judge of character, your Uncle has hidden depths himself, and he's surprised me before now. I suppose he'll want to protect her from Elizabeth more than anything, and when we discussed it, we thought it best to keep her close in order to do that... Perhaps you could help protect Cate?" He shook his head, paused in his stride - they had been travelling pretty fast, in fact "I'm sorry; sometimes I talk ahead of myself like that. But enough; what do you think?"

 

[Catulle]

Antiquities Nightclub, Manhattan
Wednesday 11th December, 2002

"Oh, he's on the mezzanine already; he said he'd keep himself entertained if need be. I think he's rearranging the tables, actually..." Frustration? It was damnably hard to read the subtleties of her voice over the intercom.

"But no, V, he's the first. We're all keeping an eye out, not that Mr Ashton left a guest list... He's been nothing but mysterious about this gig from the outset." A definite sigh, perhaps resignation, from Skye.

"You wouldn't know anything that you could pass on that would help us, do you? I hate to ask, but it's a little like blindfold darts down here if we get something wrong." The nervousness in the woman's voice was both reassuring and distressing, almost in equal measures.

 

[Tory Adore]

”Mezzanine already?…moving _my_ tables?…I’m coming down straight away Skye. By the way, it’s Carrick, remember my sweet? He didn’t seem to want us to have a list. I asked him, but…well, it’s really too late to be worried about it now. As far as any info…wish I did. However, we are all well versed in our operations, and I have you, Sasha, and Sebastian to help me personally. Plus (she looks over her shoulder to Jemal) I’m sure Jemal here would be kind enough to offer his assistance to us, and perhaps Mr. Maslowe will help us too so he can stop moving my tables, but I will handle_him_ myself. See you in a moment. Oh, and Skye, there may be another guest here, but I…I can’t be certain. You need not concern yourself though.”
Vych pushes a button ending their conversation. Vych takes a deep breath and thinks to herself a few choice words.

An air of irritation remains delicately on her brow and in her voice as she turns to Jemal.
”Apparently Carrick left as much information for my “friends” as he did with me. Did he mention the dress for tonight to you? He said he would be letting his guests know the theme. Grrrr I hope he did. Guess we shall see shortly as it seems our first guest has arrived. Have you met Mr. Stephen Maslowe? Apparently he does not care for my arrangements downstairs, so we must head down to the Mezzanine now. I do wish we would have had more time together. Perhaps you would consider going out with me again? I have a feeling we share the same “taste” in many things Jemal.”

Vych, hearing herself mention dress, takes in a gaze over Jemal’s clothes. Her soft gaze looks to his eyes,
“Would you mind terribly if I relaxed your shirt a bit before we go? It’s not formal by any means tonight. Tonight is about…well it’s about many things so it seems, but formal dress and dispositions are ones that I hope will be left outside Antiquities by our guests this eve. So, with that, may I?”
Vych raises her arms slightly in his direction with a warm smile.

 

[reapersaurus]

"Anyway, how did tasting the creature's blood help us? I hope it was worth it considering."

Nikolai replies and lies, emotion in check, " Sometimes I get.. peckish... and like to experience the vitae, like a connoiseur.

"G?" Max says, then looks to Gabriel, then Legba, then David, then back to Nikolai, "You're talking Gabrial right? He's white. You too, last I checked."

Max peers intently at Nikolai for a minute, "Nope, still white."

"Don't mind my colloquialisms, "G" ... I am just not as comfortable in yelling our real names across the _boneyard_ than you are.

And I am hardly 'white' anymore - as if Kindred are restricted by as Kine of a concept as 'race'.

I did not grow up 'priviledged', and in another life, adopted many urban mannerisms as a matter of course.

That black Elder you encounter some day may have been born a slave's son in Georgia, but he has seen so many Nights since then, and done and can do so many things, that his behavior is hardly a factor of the human race he was born into - it's much more impacted by the vampire 'race' he was Borne into..."

He sees Nikolai struggle with himself and smiles again, but ironically.

"Hehe, a feeling I know all too well. But seriously, don't look at the crime on a personal level, detach yourself. Its better that one is unbiased when investigating something of this calibre, don't want your emotions carrying you away. Could lead to bad decision making," Max says... ."

"Do not presume to lecture me upon the dangers of _bugging _, Maxwell.
You, of all people - a 'studious' Brujah - should see the irony and absurdity of commenting to a Tremere to _chill_.

Where do you get off givin' me the _411_ not to 'look at this crime on a personal level'?."

"What the fck!? I mean, my french may be rusty, but did it say 'Red Poet'? I thought that guy butchered lovebirds not ate corpses,"

Nikolai visibly flares up, then spends an intense moment collecting himself before hissing a reply thru grited teeth.
"You are fortunate I possess the legendary self-control my _blood_ are known for, since you tongue flaps dangerously close to the Fire here...

I suggest you tread upon such ground very lightly, Maxwell, childe of Morgan - it is a slippery slope you dance upon, and I trust that you are wise enough not to play with a hissing cobra."

Nikolai slips next to Max with impossible speed, even for a vampire, and whispers in his ear, "Now hold that ... thing... tightly and as firm as you can.

It's still alive."

Nikolai steps to Gabriel, locks eyes, and very carefully and secretly tells him, "This decayed husk is not what it seems.

I believe it is a Mask it wears, and its heart beats still.

Can you Dominate its will, and ensure that it does not escape us, as I bring it back to the Chantry for further important research?

His capture and study is VERY important to me, Gabriel... "

 

[Shalimar]

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

Sabrina snuggled her tiny arms up around Carrick's neck to balance herself out, and leaned her head n against his shoulder. It felt safe, felt secure, like no one could hurt her while she was in his arms, or Nathan's, it was truly odd that in the short time she had known him that she had become so comfortable with him. Maybe it was one of his powers, like awe or something, whatever that cause the child liked him. What he said about the Toreador confused her, just how many kinds of vampires were there? In books it was only one kind, but from the way everyone talked there was an awful lot.

"Mister Carrick, you said something about being a Toreador, and uncle Nathan said he and Jemal were Ventrue, and he even said that I was a bru..a bruj... a brujah," she said in her tiny voice, stumbling over the difficult word. "Well, just how many kinds of Vampires are there, and Uncle Nathan said I would be all bad and angry since I'm a brujah, and you said what you did about Toreador, are we all different? Do we all get different powers and all? Because I really like mine, I can go super super fast, and I'm really strong, and I can do that awe thing, and I even made miss Cate do exactly what I said, uncle Nathan was really happy about that one."

 

[KitanaVorr]

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

Every nuance in his eyes spoke to her, sung to her. The change from one emotion to the next, a shift in intensity, in speed, even in octave. Her throat wanted to hum the song, to commit it to memory so she would never forget that look. The song reflecting her in his eyes.

His touch, so gently, brushing her hair fluttered her lashes near to closing but still she kept her gaze on him. Locked upon him, unable to look anywhere else, think of anything else but to dwell on his rough voice echoing in her thoughts.

Eyes, larger than possible, gazed into his, deep pools of ebony that swirl with glimmerings yet to be discovered. Breath, soft and hesitant, brushed his face lightly and along with the warmth of her skin, reminding him sharply of her humanity.

Then suddenly she awoke and the world had returned to the one of before, of hand within hand, of eyes upon eyes, of words hanging in the air waiting to be answered. Her brow rested lighter on her face, the tensions of before vanishing into a forgotten memory.

"Let us go, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky..." Her lips curved into a generous smile touched with humor. "Let us go through certain half-deserted streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent to lead you to an overwhelming question...do I dare...do I dare?"

"Do I dare disturb the universe?"

Leaning closer, she whispered directly into his ear, warm breath brushing his skin with each word. The strong clean scent of Jasmine mixed in with his own masculine scent invaded his senses much as she had invaded his study. "Yes...I will accompany you, Mr. Montague. Whither shall you lead us?"

 

[Festy_Dog]

Frederick Douglas Memorial Cemetery, Staten Island
Wednesday 11th December, 2002

originally posted by reapersaurus
"Sometimes I get.. peckish... and like to experience the vitae, like a connoiseur."

"Hehe, wide and varied tastes ay?" he replies.

God! There'd have to be a better reason to put that thing's blood in your mouth, blech!

originally posted by reapersaurus
"Don't mind my colloquialisms, "G" ... I am just not as comfortable in yelling our real names across the _boneyard_ than you are.

And I am hardly 'white' anymore - as if Kindred are restricted by as Kine of a concept as 'race'.

I did not grow up 'priviledged', and in another life, adopted many urban mannerisms as a matter of course.

That black Elder you encounter some day may have been born a slave's son in Georgia, but he has seen so many Nights since then, and done and can do so many things, that his behavior is hardly a factor of the human race he was born into - it's much more impacted by the vampire 'race' he was Borne into..."

"Fine, fine, I apologise if my meager jesting has insulted you," Max says, "There was no harm intended."

originally posted by reapersaurus
"Do not presume to lecture me upon the dangers of _bugging _, Maxwell.
You, of all people - a 'studious' Brujah - should see the irony and absurdity of commenting to a Tremere to _chill_.

Where do you get off givin' me the _411_ not to 'look at this crime on a personal level'?."

Max is taken aback by the statement, he opens and shuts his mouth as if to say something but cannot while keeping his own blood in check. He clenches a fist and puts a hand to his forehead as he bundles his scattered thoughts.

Bugging? 411? What the fck do they mean? The guy wants to start a fight! Deep breaths... What kinda sht is that fcker implyin' by the way he said 'studious Brujah'! Deep breaths... He's under a lot of stress, he wouldn't be slinging sht at me if he was okay. Give him some slack... Deep breaths... Just gotta explain myself, he'll calm down... Deep breaths... Get your thoughts together... good.

"Look," Max starts, then takes deep breath, "I was just trying to... give you some advice... because you have gotten totally psyched... since we arrived here... I don't know what your problem is... but if there is something here... which has dug up an unpleasant... thing... of your past... then it is in your best interests... to put it to one side... while we are here."

Max takes another deep breath and tries to compose himself.

originally posted by reapersaurus
"You are fortunate I possess the legendary self-control my _blood_ are known for, since you tongue flaps dangerously close to the Fire here...

I suggest you tread upon such ground very lightly, Maxwell, childe of Morgan - it is a slippery slope you dance upon, and I trust that you are wise enough not to play with a hissing cobra."

What... the... fck... How old is this guy? Where the FCK was he when we fought to take this city back!? He's got jack sht fckin' respect! Holy mother of fck! Fine then, fck negotiation. I won't hold my fckin' flappin' tongue no fckin' more!

"What fire!?" Max suddenly barks at Nikolai, "Where is this slippery slope I dance upon for there is no sign to declare its presence! You say I have no qualms with yelling our names out aloud but you're the one who snapped this eve and screamed our presence to the cops over there!" Max points angrily to the cemetary gate, "If you wanna keep whatever is pissing you off to yourself, fine, but don't you ever, fckin, ever let it get in the way of our work! We are conducting an investigation here, what kind of stunt, might I ask, are you trying to pull!?"

Max shakes his head then turns to say something to David when Nikolai appears beside him.

originally posted by reapersaurus
"Now hold that ... thing... tightly and as firm as you can.

It's still alive."

Max's fangs try to elongate into a clenched jaw as he unshoulders to shotgun and thrusts it into Nikolai's hands.

"Here, lest I fall down your invisible slope," he growls, his fangs then take the opportunity to spring forth and expose themselves, "And when did a cobra ever present a threat to a vampire?"

Max turns around and kicks the decayed child's corpse before falling to his hands and knees. His breathing is rapid and he stares wildly at the ground. He struggles to reign in his anger but it has a life of its own, the beast won't let it go. His beast never sleeps, but lurks within the shadows of his being, waiting to prey upon anger or frustration. It never kills them though, it pins them down and doesn't allow them to leave. It forces them to struggle and amplify. Max's blood boils and seeths within him as he twitches and fights for control.

"I'm really sorry, David," he says, clenching fist fulls of dirt, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to lose it."

His tone of voice is confusing though, and it cannot be determined whether he's apologising for what he's done, or for what he's about to do...

 

[reapersaurus]

Max's fangs try to elongate into a clenched jaw as he unshoulders to shotgun and thrusts it into Nikolai's hands.

"Here, lest I fall down your invisible slope," he growls, his fangs then take the opportunity to spring forth and expose themselves, "And when did a cobra ever present a threat to a vampire?"[/B]

Nikolai takes the returned shotgun and puts it in his trenchcoat before his hand returns with 2 small objects that he pops in his mouth, and replying, "My analogy was a human one.

And if you want to throw down, I feel obliged to warn you that you _will_ lose control of your Beast if we tussle... I AM armed.. I have armor on, and am not in the mood to have your feelings get in the way of my Revenge."

Nikolai struggles to keep one eye on the feral thing's body, lest it try to escape.

[OOC: 2 blood gained from blood baubles, blood pool at 5 + 2 = 7 now]

 

[Ashrem Bayle]

Gabriel mearly nodded at Nikolai's suggestion to Dominate the creature that now appeared dead. However, before he could act, Max burst out.

He stood with the look of amusement plastered across his face. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Amusing as the two kindred were, behaving like mortal children, he knew all to well what happened when a kindred lost control. Amusement faded to annoyance...

"Are you two finished?" he asked simply.