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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Catulle" data-source="post: 840731" data-attributes="member: 9942">Antiquities Nightclub, ManhattanWednesday 11th December, 2002As the heavy door leading away from the press of humanity swung to a close, Vychtorya's attention drifted on the tide, coming inorexibly to rest, for all of a second, on the hispanic features of a petite woman entering the lounge. Something in the way she moved called out to the young Toreador, and there was an echoing sensation of familiarity beneath the smooth symetry of the newcomer's bone structure. The snap of the doors' clasps broke the reverie that was her sire's legacy, and Vychtorya was free to pursue the path she had selected for herself and the charming Ventrue."I'd love a drink. Thank you." Jemal's eyes lingered on Vychtorya's throat a little longer than perhaps was his intention as he spoke.The elevator was cool compared to the club, and the air cleaner for the absence of the crowds. Still, a sterility pervaded the atmosphere in the cubicle that could not help but cast the mind back to the swell on the dancefloor.The doors glid soundlessly back, and the appartment beckoned them in, proffering safety at a comfortable distance from chaos. The pair of statues cast their shadows such that they crossed, finely sculpted faces looking towards the couple of Vychtorya and Jemal.Faces...That face...Her.The answer to the earlier riddle came rushing at Vychtorya as the planes of the sculpture's face resolved themselves in her mind's eye into the animated form downstairs. The swirl of her senses threatened to carry her away again, but she could assert control with little exertion.</blockquote>

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