Damian & Mina / Valerian & Beyonca
 

(((ooc: veldagia - Yey! Welcome back! :D)))
innoscent - No worries. We've decided to keep night 6 running a little bit longer still)))


DAMIAN:

Following his departure from Moira's company, was yet another string of polite conversations and listening to what in Damian's ears sounded very much like simple and cheap attempts to earn his favor; compliments and flattery, phony interest in his opinion and his various dealings in the Kindred and the human worlds. The latter, however, was not to be confused with the rare and often poorly disguised attempts to pry into his life; his personal one as well as his business one. He was a very private person, that kept his personal life and business secrets well guarded. Business deals were often of a rather sensitive nature, and being indiscreet could make someone else catch wind of them, and somehow interfere with Damian's plans.
As for his personal life; the less that was known about his interests and his preferences, his strenghts and his weaknesses, the more powerful he seemed. Mystery gave birth to rumours, and rumours tended to grow into myths holding such conviction that the listener rarely knew whether to believe them or not, and thus often decided to play it safe by refraining from challenging the target of said rumours. Not that Damian felt the need to hide behind embellished stories. He could hold his own in any fight. It was simply that little tricks such as mystery and his ever present sheriff kept people at bay, and spared him the trouble of constantly having to prove himself and his might. Instead, people kept their interest in remaining on his good side and would ever so often try and make sure that they remained there, though such opportunities were rarely given. He didn't fancy night clubs or busy street life. When granted a chance to escape the many troubles and concerns of the Kindred, he often sought solitude. A few moments filled with nothing but peace and quiet. Or, if the mood struck him, the company of a dear friend, or simply someone else whose company he found himself enjoying. And so his popularity at this Ball was hardly a surprise. He had expected to be the target of many encounters of the apple-polished kind. With him rarely venturing out of his office to mingle with the other Kindred of the city, many were now bound to seize the opportunity he (somewhat reluctantly) presented them with.

But, no matter how many craved his attention, he never let it affect his omnipotent diligence, his all-seeing eye never faltered. Despite most of the guests having followed his lead and turned their gazes away from Adrien, there was trouble brewing underneath the surface. Not only because of the hunter, but because of the various conflicts between clans and individuals as well. If something was to errupt this evening, Damian would be prepared. Every now and then he made eye contact with the various 'security guards' scattered around the room, just to make sure things were running fairly smoothly and that there was not yet something for him to take care of or ward off. Everyone seemed to be on their best behaviour, so far. Everyone, but Beyonca. Luckily she had now finished her conversation with Adrien and slipped out the back, leaving the miscreant to loiter about all by his lonesome. Judging by the smug look in his eyes, he found the situation quite amusing.
A fool, to not know any better.
And following Beyonca was yet another. Valerian. Frowning within, Damian watched as the Toreador pup glided between the moving bodies with his usual animal sensuality, following in Beyonca's path and slipping out the back door much like she had done only a few minutes ago, no doubt driven by curiousity of her conversation with Adrien, though well-mannered enough to not approach Adrien himself, at this time. It was another troublesome element. Valerian was the perfect victim for someone such as Adrien, should he test his crimson chains and, god forbid, find that they had weakened enough for him to strike. The raven haired Toreador was too naive and gullible for his own good, and would pose no greater challenge than a sitting duck.
Needless to say, Damian was far from pleased.
But, there was little he could do about it now, and when it came right down to it, it was the Primogen's duty to look after her own, not his. At least not at this point. It was up to her to deal with her young fellow Toreador.
Then again, Damian had his doubts of Jessica's vigilance and of her interest in his concerns lately, and so was far from sure that she would see the same reason to fret as he himself did. Perhaps he better see to it that an eye was kept on Valerian after all, until he found someone suitable to deal with him.
Already he had two possible candidates, for two very different reasons.

Though deciding which one who would have the honor of carrying out his request would have to be a later matter. Currently Valerian was staying safely away from Adrien, and there were too many Kindred around to stand by, should the hunter be foolish enough to try anything. Besides, at this very moment there was something else calling out for Damian's attention. Another tangible presence was fading from the room. Mina's. He looked towards the doors just in time to catch a mere hint of her elegant form disappear beyond the the banqueting hall, and another frown was born within, this time reaching so far as to appear as a small crease between his eyebrows. For a split second, he found himself wondering if he had let the opportunity to talk to her, and invite her to dance, pass him by. He would be most annoyed if it was so. Her company was one of the few things he had actually looked forward to this evening.
However, he soon realized that she had yet to greet Archon, a courtesy he knew she wouldn't neglect, and so his mind settled once again. The realization even brought the shadow of a smile to his lips. Perhaps her temporarily leaving the Ball was not an opportunity missed, but an opportunity granted.

Turning his head ever so slightly, he glanced over at his sheriff and then at the entrance, the mere look in his eyes signalling his silent command for his trusted body guard to step outside as well, and make sure that Mina was indeed still there, and that there was no other unwanted presence lingering nearby. Damian entrusted no one else with his interest in her.
Always attentive to his Prince's wishes, the sheriff saw the signal and obeyed, without making even the slightest sign of having just recieved an order. He knew well that Damian favored discretion.

Before long he returned, and yet again a look was the only communication needed between him and his employer; upon stepping outside, Damian would find things to be very much to his liking. Pleased with such a prospect, the Prince therefore soon excused himself to the Ventrue and the Tremere he was currently speaking to, giving the reason that he had an important phone call to make. That way, no one would get the idea that perhaps he wanted some company as he made his way towards the entrance.

Even before reacing the outside, he felt the welcoming softness of the night air upon his face, and he closed his eyes ever so briefly in memory of the sweet clarity granted by a deep, human breath. Things of such simplicity were often the things he would miss. Things so fundamental to a human being that she would rarely give them a second thought. It was the eternal irony of fate; you never knew to treasure what you had until it was gone.

Once outside he slowly descended the stone steps while his senses searched for Mina. His eyes alone did not register her anywhere yet, but he could feel her unmistakable presence nearby, pulling him towards her as if someone had grabbed him by the hand to guide him. It wasn't long before the gleam of her dress as she passed by one of the many garden lights caught his eye, and his legs started eating up the distance that seperated him from her, each step he took causing a gentle whisper from the gravel underneath his shoes. Highly deliberately of course. He wanted her to hear him coming, and not be taken by surprise, as she was still facing away from him, walking aimlessly and seemingly deep in thought. Thoughts that, if Damian was to venture a guess, concerned a certain man with whom she had a painful past. A memory that had plauged her for over a century, a ghost that had now returned as flesh and blood to haunt her more than ever. Though he doubted she would ever let anyone know. Like him she was proud and levelheaded, not prone to show emotion.
And what a sight she was. Even with her back to him he felt her tantalizing allure tug at his male instincts, her presence filling the air with dark mystery and authority that caressed his senses, threatening to seduce them. Of everyone around him, she was probably the most dangerous one. She appealed to him in a way that made him want to trust her; a quality that would blind him from any signs of possible and devastating ulterior motives, if he wasn't careful.

"Toi qui, comme un coup de couteau, dans mon coeur plaintif es entrée."

As he spoke, his steps slowed and he came to a halt, allowing his soft and slightly hushed words to carry all the way over to her. But before she turned, he swiftly offered an explanation, just in case and against all odds, he had confused her. She was a clever lady, and so he trusted she would know what he meant.

"You care for him still?"



(((ooc: Geez... When I started writing this post, I felt I had nothing to write... *LOL*

Oh, and, for those interested in just what the heck Damian is babbling about, go here.)))





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VALERIAN & BEYONCA:

Again there was silence between them, a few seconds of verbal nothingness, of nothing but the distant sound of traffic, while Beyonca herself now took a moment to reflect on her her feelings, much like Valerian had just done. It seemed that underneath it all, she wasn't quite as sure of herself as she seemed, as though the realization of what she had done - of whom she had really just spoken to - had just dawned on her. She had put herself in the path of a notorious killer, allowed him the opportunity to memorize her face, and more importantly to study her; the way she moved, the way she talked, the way she handled herself in general. He was sure to have taken mental notes, registering everything that could be of use, and everything that couldn't be of use as well. One never did know the twists and turns of fate, and what seemingly useless knowledge may come in handy one day.
And yet, with everything that must be running through her mind, there was nothing resembling insecurity about her, nothing to suggest that she was doubting the wisdom of her choice to approach Adrien. Almost as though it didn't matter, as though she didn't care if she had provided him knowledge that most would deem wise to deny him?
Why...?
Had she grown born of her eternal existence, like so many others, and simply decided to walk the thin line between unlife and final death, just to spice things up? Or was she seeking to truely challenge fate?

"Yes, I would think some would boil with hatred for me just as much as there blood boils for Adriens", she finally said, leaning back against the wall, caring little that perhaps the dirty brick would stain her lightly colored dress. "There is no doubt in my mind I will get a good lashing."

At her last words, Valerian winced ever so slightly, his flourishing Toreador empathy immediately flooding his mind with visuals and feelings, just as she turned her head to lock gazes with him.

"It will probably be more severe from others than my own primogen", she added. "I will be sure to watch my back."

Valerian nodded slowly, knowing well that she was most likely right. The others hadn't taken kindly to her conversation with Adrien, and Archon - a man with a strong belief in good manners and respect, and that the actions of a Kindred reflected on their entire clan - would surely be far from pleased. She had tainted the high esteem of the Ventrue. Even a Toreador such as Valerian knew that. But still he hoped that she would be completely and utterly wrong in her statement, for her own sake. He would hate for her to get into trouble again over this, especially since she would need friends and allies, should Adrien choose to come after her. But if antagonised by her actions this evening, there were some that would not make haste to come to her aid. And to Valerian, she didn't deserve that, as she surely hadn't meant any harm. It had been a bit thoughtless perhaps, but hadn't she also taken the chance to find out more about Adrien de la Cour, the enemy they had all had in common for over a hunded years? She had probed him, even if ever so slightly, and was bound to have learned something of value about him, no?

"Do you think I have done wrong by talking to him?" she asked, her voice bringing him out of his inner reasoning in her defense. "Do you think I should worry for my own safety now?"

A most odd question to ask him, Valerian, who most thought of as credulous and gullible, sweet and unsuspecting, simply because of his affectionate nature. True, perhaps he was a bit too friendly at times, but that didn't make him easily fooled. He socialized for a living, he was bound to be well versed in reading people's intentions.

"I think...", he started, once again taking his time to choose his words with care. "... perhaps your timing was wrong. Though at the same time, and in a way, it was most wise of you to approach him with so many people around, instead of seeking him out in some remote back alley. And you also gave everyone an opportunity to study him."

He paused briefly, and pursed his lips a bit in a look of contemplative dismay, and then finished;

"But, I fear not many share my opinion. However, I do doubt anyone will go out of their way to harm you, but still... Be careful. Please."

valerian and bee
 

Beyonca couldnt help but notice the slight wince Valerain made whens he spoke of getting hurt. It some ways it surprised her but in another way it didnt. He was a kind and gental kindred. Wishing no harm to anyone. He must have felt some pain to hear of her to be punished in a way. The only surprise was she wasnt really exspecting it. For the slightest minute she forgot just how sensitive Valerian was. It put a reminder in her to maybe choose her words more carefully.

Though he did seem a bit startled and surprised by her question to him. Bee didnt ask him really for a decision, but for a backup of her own thoguhts. She was confident that she knew what was coming. Laying low and off the radar would be wise of her. Though it would be unwise to remain alone around the kindred she could not trust.

"I think...", he stated, looking deep in thought of words. "... perhaps your timing was wrong. Though at the same time, and in a way, it was most wise of you to approach him with so many people around, instead of seeking him out in some remote back alley. And you also gave everyone an opportunity to study him."

Bee watched him carefully as he spoke. He really was thinking of the right words to tell her. She could understand what he said. There was negitives and positives in what she had done. Her head leaned just a slight to the side as her amber stones studied him as he spoke to her.

"But, I fear not many share my opinion. However, I do doubt anyone will go out of their way to harm you, but still... Be careful. Please."

She just looked at him for a moment letting his words roll through her head. It seemed as though he did care what happened to her. But really she couldnt exspect any less of him. Valerian cared for all including Bee. A little breeze blew and the tiny strands of hair that was not up made its way to try and tickel her cheek. She let the feeling seep in her body. There was something in her trying to tell her something, but what she couldnt make of it. It wasnt a bad or a good feeling. She just felt something. Like something was hiden in her that needed to be freed. A warm considerate smile came to her lips.

"I will Valerian. That I can promise you. There is something in me that doubts any real harm will come my way. Though I can never be to careful."

Her eyes drifted to the cold hard ground and then brought it back to him.

"Do you truely worry so much for me? Is it the reason you followed me out here?"

Valerian & Beyonca
 

There had always been a gentleness to Valerian; a warmth in his eyes and a softness in his manners. Even as a human, subjected to the various hardships of mortal life, he had never turned bitter and jaded, like most would have. Instead, his humility towards life and everything in it had grown, along with his appreciation for everything holding even an ounce of pleasantry. He had learned to see the small blessing and miracles happening everywhere around him, and he never tired of them, nor did he ever take them for granted. Not even when his embrace had turned them into an endless string of every day occurances in his eternal unlife.
He was sensitive, even for a Toreador, filled with an adoration for all things living, and he often wore his heart on his sleeve. He knew it, and he also knew that at times it was all too evident. Yet many seemed to be taken by surprise when it dawned on them that he truely cared about them, out of empathy, without a shred of ulterior motives clouding his intentions.
Beyonca was no exception. The fleeting look on her face as he spoke, even as he winced at her words, revealed that he left her feeling somewhat surprised. Which really wasn't all that surprising. With the way everyone had glared at her inside, it mustn't had seemed very likely to her that the first person to come after her would be someone of Valerian's friendly nature. And yet in a way it seemed the most appropriate thing. She had approached Adrien, the outcast, and now Valerian was approaching her, who, while she wasn't exactly an outcast, would surely be given the cold shoulder for a while. History had a tendency to repeat itself, although it usually took a lot longer to do so than a mere ten minutes. And, while Beyonca's boldly curious yet placid character could hardly be justly compared to Valerian's caring one - they were indeed very different, the two of them - their actions this night did carry similarities.

"I will Valerian", she said, and her face slowly lit up with a warm, most endearing smile. "That I can promise you. There is something in me that doubts any real harm will come my way. Though I can never be too careful."

With that she glanced away for a second, her gaze momentarily dropping to the ground before finding it's way back to Valerian. He was hoping her gut feeling was to be trusted, and that she was right in what she had just said, that no harm would come to her. He too had doubts that anyone would try to inflict physical pain in her, just like he had said. But there were many other ways to hurt someone. For over a century he had watched humans and Kindred, seen them participate in various quarrels and vendettas, backstabbings and deceptions, and had thus become quite familiar with such methods of going after someone.
And, being the 'pet' of a shrewd and cunning, and sometimes downright cruel woman such as Claudia, he was bound to have learned a thing or two from her as well.

"Do you truely worry so much for me?" Beyonca questioned, putting her thoughts into words. "Is it the reason you followed me out here?"

At that Valerian couldn't keep a slightly bashful grin from forming on his lips. All of a sudden he felt very transparent. There was, after all, another and somewhat bigger reason why had had followed her in the first place. In fact, at that very moment, it had been his only reason for following her, his mind filled with concern for Vevila. It was only once he had stepped outside and come face to face with Beyonca, that she too had roused his worry.

"Well...", he started, sounding almost like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and glanced down at his shoes in a look to match. "In all honesty... No."

His pale sapphire gaze returned to meet her predatory amber one, and the vague smile on his lips widened into one beseeching her to not be annoyed or disappointed with him.

"I was curious of monsieur de la Cour...", he said truthfully. "... but would much rather speak with you, than with him, and hear of your impression."

Mina and DamianL Ball - outside in garden
 

Outside the night was still, a gentle hush hung upon the air, scented by the sweet floral oudors of the garden. One note especially tantalised Mina's nostrils, the exoic sensuality of jasmine. She reched down a plucked a single white floral star from its stem. Holding it delicatly betweeen her fingers she inhaled the scent before releasing it to the wind with a single wish. Bring me stillness. As she continued strolling through the garden a calmness flowed around her that allowed escape from the tensions that gathered inside the ball but her own inner turmoil remained.

Memories plagued her. Burried within her dreams for a century they now rose with the demon out of the fire of her heart. The gentle caress of his thumb against her cheek and the soft smile that had graced his lips tormented her thoughts. When life had seemed so meaningless Adrien had gifted her with his amber tainted blood. A taste that had preserved her eternal existance for one more night. She could not believe it had all been an act. Within his eyes she had seen the hesitation, had known that she had reached him on some level. Was that why they sent him to her? Did they expect that she could draw some feeling from that cruel heart once again?

The soft crunch of gravel alerted Mina's senses drawing her from the thoughts of Adrien and how she was to handle this most delicate of matters for her clan. In less than a blink of an eye she identified the foorsteps as they gained upon her. The cloud of thought melting from her face to be replaced by a faint smile. Most would not dare to approach and disturb a Primogen from their thoughts, fearing an icy wrath to greet their interuption. But Damien was one who she would gladliy break the solitude for. A man she could respect for his mind drew together the same logical coherence.

Still she wondered what had drawn him out away from his grandose celebrations where he stood a figurehead before the kindred of LA. Did he too seek the silent solitude of thought? Or was he seeking her out? Feeling the omniscient solidity of his prescence behind her she paused graceful awaiting for him to join her.

"Toi qui, comme un coup de couteau, dans mon coeur plaintif es entrée." Daminan's hushed words fell upon her ears breaking the stillness of the night with his dignified charm as he stopped behind Mina. "You care for him still?"

Mina turned slowly to face Damian the smile vanishing into a tranquil crimson line but the thoughts that troubled her remained in her gaurded eyes. There was only one person that he would question her feelings for. The man who had broken through the ice cage that surrounded her heart once before, the only one she had trusted since her sire, and the one who had ultimatly betrayed her.

"I am not fond of Adrien but it is my duty to guide him as he is one of my clan." Mina replied softly. As the Prince of the city she did not doubt that Damian would understand the chains that such duty entailed. The binding that her clan placed around her neck by their insistance that the neophyte resided within her domain.

Yet she knew that her words did not fully answer his question. But how could she ever explain the complexity of emotion that Adrien drew from her, the crushed hope, pain, longing, anger and the awareness that one day they would all die alone. For to do so would reveal vulnerability, that behind the veil of illlusion there was a soul which could feel and therefore be hurt. .

But as Mina's eyes rose to Damian's face she was reminded again that it was a man that stood before her. He was a Prince, a mighty vampire, a ruler but beneath it all, under the mask he wore like her own, was a kindred soul. And to him more than anyone else she owed honesty. "I did care deeply for him once." She paused curtailing the venom which threatened to poison her soft voice. "But he destroyed it with the same cosumptive hatred which he casts upon us all." A hint of sadness clouded her eyes for a moment but as she blinked, the long dark lashes brushed it away ro replace it once again with the usual glittering intellegence that burned from within. "My heart belongs only to myself."

((OCC Sorry for the delay Atropa))

Damian & Mina
 

Although soft and hushed, there had been a cruelty to Damian's words. Or rather, a frankness. One of which he was most aware. He wasn't the kind of man that would tiptoe around a matter, unless there was something in it for him or he was intentionally trying to be vague. He expected people to realize it, and respect him for it. When there was something he wanted to know, and he deemed himself able to afford letting on that he did have an interest in whatever it was, he was to the point, although rarely blunt. Instead he wrapped his inquiries in eloquent words, or even words of beauty, dressing his intentions in lines from a poem. Like just now. One could hardly call him a romantic, but like any noble, he was well versed in the various arts, even though he remembered such things with his head and only rarely with his heart. He remembered them not for their beauty, but for a purpose, for the fact that they one day may come in handy, for whatever reason.

This time, part of the purpose had been to soften the blow of his question. He knew that it had been perhaps a little bit too invasive. And if he hadn't, the look on Mina's face as she turned would've made him aware of it. The hint of a smile that had graced the corner of her mouth - the only part of her bloodred lips that he had been able to see with her back towards him - upon hearing his voice, had quickly faded as soon as she registered his actual words, and when she had fully turned, it was but a memory, a fleeting shadow of the past. Along with her penetrating yet reserved emerald orbs, that look spoke volumes.
He had hit the nail right on the head.

Still, there was nothing hostile in her voice when she parted those crimson lips to speak. Only a soft calm.

"I am not fond of Adrien", she said. "But it is my duty to guide him as he is one of my clan."

For the briefest of moments, Damian simply looked at her. His dark ashen eyes studying her emerald ones, his mind analyzing her words to draw some kind of conclusion. Then, he simply inclined his head in a barely perceivable gesture of confirmation that he knew what she meant. He himself often suffered under the responsibility to look after those of which he wasn't particularly fond. And when it came to Adrien, he would be a cross for the both of them to bear.
However, Damian also trusted that Mina knew what he had meant. The answer she had given was not the answer he was looking for. But he would not ask again. He may not be very pleased with the answer, but she was off the hook, for now.

Yet, as she lifted her head to look at him with that reserved albeit cordial glow in her eyes, her gaze turning from the grass below to rest on his features, something within her seemed to soften. Perhaps she could read his real reasons for asking on his face. Had she been just anyone, just another Kindred, his eyes wouldn't have revealed much of anything. But like him, she often wore a most impenetrable mask, and thus would've learned to catch a glimpse of whatever was behind such a mask.
He asked not only because of concern for her, but for himself as well. He realized what an enormous and cruel burden her elders had put on her shoulders. Sadistic almost. And it worried him that she would feel as though she was under attack from her own, from the very Kindred she should be able to lean on for support.
But...
He also asked as man whose interest she had piqued, an admirer intrigued by the mystery that surrounded her, and the way her brilliant and possibly deviant mind worked. A ruler enticed by her strong integrity and her competence. And, a man attracted by her beauty and her femininity.
In short, a gentleman who sensed there may be a reason for jealousy. Or as Damian would rather label it; competitiveness.

"I did care deeply for him once", she said, pausing briefly in an effort to rid her voice of the venom Damian had sensed in her ever since she had laid eyes on Adrien the night before. "But he destroyed it with the same cosumptive hatred which he casts upon us all."

Another pause, as a shadow almost too vague to grasp flitted across her face. Still, Damian caught it, as he was watching her closely, and he couldn't help but to feel honored that she would allow him a glimpse of her torment. She was starting to get personal, in a way that wasn't meant to lead towards a business arrangement.

"My heart belongs only to myself", she finished, and with those words she was back to her usual calm and collected self, in full control of the emotions (or lack thereof) displayed on her face.

Reluctant to push things further, Damian simply nodded, having decided to leave it at that, for now. It wasn't that he didn't believe her, or even that he thought she wasn't fully aware of the effects Adrien had on the heart he had left black and bruised. It was simply that while she said it belonged to no one but herself, Damian was unsure of how susceptible it would be, should Adrien for some reason decide he wanted to try and breathe new life into the feelings she had once had for him. Granted, his chances of succeeding were slim to none, but again, Damian was the kind of man who took into consideration all possible scenarios. And this, no matter how impossible it seemed, was one, despite that fact that the path Adrien was on, was leading him no closer to feelings of affection or concern for anything but his own twisted goals.

"It's quite ironic, isn't it?" he said, while slowly starting to move forward again, to annihilate the remaining distance between them, his eyes scanning the surroundings with the deftness of a skilled observer before returning to meet with Mina's. "He despises us and regards us as nothing but monsters. And yet, with the power of a few simple words alone, you show more humanity than he himself seems capable of."

With that he came to a halt right infront of her, and offered her his arms, in a silent but polite request to accompany her on the rest of her stroll around the gardens.

"Perhaps his transformation into what he so loathes, is not on Kindred heads alone," he added. "But on his as well."



(((ooc: Everyone - Night #7 will be called on Sunday.)))

ooc - Archon is approachable
 

((( ooc: Everyone - I just wanted to let you all know, that I have changed the ending of my last post - number 999 on page 40 - to suit the fact that we changed back to night 6. Sorry for the delay. Archon is approachable. )))

Beyonca and Valerian
 

A smile of her own appeared on Bees face as Valerians aura changed. It was almost as if he had just remembered why he came out here in the first place. Perhaps she was right in her first thought of the fact he hadnt came out here to worry over her, but to know Adrien. There never was a dobt in her mind that it was the true reason, but still she felt ....... relived, to have a worry over for her if even for a second.

"Well...", he started, sounding almost like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and glanced down at his shoes in a look to match. "In all honesty... No."

Still a smile was on her face when he confirmed her thoughts. The only difference was her eyebrow raised as if questioning the answer she already knew. No pain was in her from the neglect of him thinking of her first. There wasnt the tinest hint of sorrow at all. After all these years of lonliness, it was hard to actually get a feeling out of her. The only person she had cared for was Mathew, and well she waqs over that now. Back to the way she felt before even meeting him. Though when he lifted his eyes from the ground and gave her one of his dashing smile, she couldnt help but let her own widen. It looked as though he was a boy asking for forgivness for doing something wrong. As if she would be mad at him for some reason. But how could she be mad at him? A small chuckled left her.

"I was curious of monsieur de la Cour...", he said truthfully. "... but would much rather speak with you, than with him, and hear of your impression."

Her smile smalled a tad bit. He wanted to know of her impression of Adrien. Could he really handel what she actually thought of him. Again she struggled with what to tell him. Would he understand the curiosity she had in him?

"Adrien..." she started, " Well he is just an interesting character. Do you wish to know of I think if he will go on a murderous rampage anytime soon?"

Again she looked away from him and thought of the conversation she had had. Would he be stupid enough to go on with his work? It would suicidal to do, at first. Maybe his wish was to try to gain trust from the kindred before going on and killing again. No, that wasnt him. He enjoyed the scared looks of all the kindred when seeing him, but he is not stupid at all.

" No. He wont. Not right now anyway. He is a very smart man. I dont know why I think so, but it is a feeling in me that he wont be killing at the moment. But I cant say if he will or wont in the future. No one can predict what is in his mind."

The hint of mischief once again appeared in her eyes with out her knowing of it. She didnt mention the fact that the only insurance she had is that he wont forget her.

((OCC Atropa really sorry I've not had chance to respond yet. Feel free to move Mina around etc. if I don't post again before tomorrow.

Everyone - I'm going to be away for the next week. My internet is due to be cut off at any point in next 24 hours!!! Hopefully I'm getting it put back in on the 12th.))

Valerian & Beyonca
 

(((ooc: veldagia - No worries. Hope to see you back soon. )))

Upon seeing the tiny smile that appeared on Beyonca's blood red lips, Valerian was instantly relieved. While he'd had his doubts that she would be truely angry or otherwise displeased with him, he hadn't been too sure. Beyonca was a bit of an enigma, even to him, and so he wasn't about to fool himself into thinking he could predict what her reactions or even words would be. In fact, he found himself wondering if there was anyone that could. She was somewhat like a riddle where the answer would tease your mind yet stay just out of reach, a guessing game where the solution seemed obvious and yet so very intangible that you did not dare to trust your instincts. With her, the only thing Valerian was certain of, was that he was not the first to be intrigued by her ways. She was a walking contradiction; possessing many of the stereotypical traits of the Ventrue, and yet coming across as something quite out of the ordinary in her clan.
Though that would be a big part of what made Valerian attracted to her. Granted, he was attracted to pretty much everyone, but it was a genuine attraction, and there were not two people that held the exact same allure to him. They were all different to him, even when to most they would seem similar. One attraction didn't lessen the sincerity and the worth of another.

"Adrien..." Beyonca said slowly, with the smile weakening just a little bit, as though the thought of the former hunter drained her of all mirth offered by Valerian's boyish charm. "Well he is just an interesting character. Do you wish to know of I think if he will go on a murderous rampage anytime soon?"

Her gaze drifted away from him yet again, and distance glaced her eyes as she obviously thought back on the conversation she had had with the notorious de la Cour, and the impression he had left her with. Her opinion had most likely already been formed, but putting it into words was a task of an importance that she wouldn't neglect. She took great care choosing the proper words for her answer.

"No", she finally stated. "He wont. Not right now anyway. He is a very smart man. I dont know why I think so, but it is a feeling in me that he wont be killing at the moment. But I cant say if he will or wont in the future. No one can predict what is in his mind."

'A smart man'... Yes, he would have to be, in order to survive for so long, despite the fact that Kindred had wanted him dead for decades. Several attempts had been made to track him down, but he had always withdrawn into the shadows, leaving all traces to vanish into thin air.
But indeed the tables had recently been turned on him, and he was now not only fully exposed, but ridden by a hunger that if not tended to would rob him of all self-control, as well as powers he had not learned to master. Dangerous still? Yes. A highly skilled actor and deciever? Indeed. Possibly lethal if underestimated? No doubt.
But, currently carrying many, many disadvantages.
The problem was, many Kindred would now line up to show him exactly what they thought of him, and with each attack, he would learn more. Not only about them, but about himself as well. And knowledge was power. Literally.

However, this answer was only a small part of what Valerian had wanted to know. Now that he could a rest just a little bit easier regarding Vevila's, and Beyonca's well-being, he wanted to know more about Adrien himself; how he carried himself, how he spoke, , what he had said.
But, he didn't want to bother Beyonca about it any further, and so decided to leave it be. There were other things he wanted to talk about anyway.

"I wish I had your courage", he said and looked at the fair young woman with admiration in his twinkling eyes. "But I fear the looks you recieved from others have rendered me a coward."

Now, 'cowardice' was a rather strong word for simply wanting to please, but Valerian never had been a stranger to exaggeration in order to paint a vivid picture in the listener's mind. And everyone knew it.

"However", he added. "They will not prevent me from making a humble request."

Using his shoulders he pushed himself away from the wall, and as another charming smile claimed his lips, he made an elegant yet swift bow infront of Beyonca.

"May I have the honor of dancing with a woman of such beauty and bravery?"


(((ooc: Not my best, but I'm way tired, so... )))

Archon DeWinter & Moira Sushill - The Ball
 

#15 [Sixth Night]

As Archon beheld the Kindred before him, and all around him, he felt as the centerpiece regarding one of the questions on most minds. It was visible in their eyes, revealed by a simple gesture or even detected in their attempt to seem oblivious. How did the presence of the hunter affect the Ventrue Primogen, the intended focal point of the ball? Though Archon was not known to give much away, it did no discourage others from trying to read him. And this was a situation where no one would blame him for being aggravated, but instead they found nothing more than a calm exterior, with the occasional soft smile. He gave them nothing, no more than he usually did. Even if Archon had not gotten used to the fact of Adrien de la Cour, he did not let his initial anger linger. It would serve no real purpose to let anyone in on how he really felt, since containing his emotions was done for a reason.

Then he saw his first Malkavian for the evening, or even since his return. It was a young woman, with long curly hair and a bewildered look in her eyes, dressed in a very old gown. Most of the older Kindred enjoyed to dress up in clothes of the past, in an attempt to reminisce that which was lost to them all. But not many of them actually had clothes left from that time, and if they did it was well taken care of and rarely worn. Instead they had clothes made for them in new, fresh fabric. This woman, however, had on a dress that took Archon back to France in the 18th century. Vintage would be an understatement, as it seemed to be falling apart. It had certainly been white once, with delicate lace and a beautiful trail. All that was left was a dirty grey attire, with torn fabric dragging behind her. A poor memory of the work by the dressmakers of that particular time, and they would surley break down in tears had they been alive to see it in it's present state. Without doubt, as it even hurt Archon to just bare witness. None the less, the woman seemed proud, and held the dress with both hands as if she was careful not to tread on it. She acknowleged Archon with a little curtsy, and a couple of sentences that took the shape of a puzzle box in his mind. All he could decode was that she was happy to see him, and welcomed him back. As she threw in a few more words, he knew she was at least mentioning the hunter, but Archon could not point out her opinion in the matter. He had seen her prior to this event, but he did not know her name, and she had not been around for a long time since before Archon left on his journey.
She held out a closed hand with a smile that was both sincere and childlike. Archon raised his head a bit, looking straight into her eyes, as if to see if there was a catch. He deemed it harmless to recieve what ever she was about to give him, and therefore he held his hand under hers as she unclutched it. Something velvety fell into his hand, and as she went on to talk to others, he looked down and saw a small purple pouch. He could feel that it was some kind of jewlery in it, probably a necklace. But instead of taking a look at it, it was soon gone from his possession. Roe walked by and they exchanged the pouch like the best of theives, for no one to notice.

This was truly a night for anything but the simplicity of enjoyment. Although Kindred seldom waged wars against each other, they did not live in constant peace and consideration. Archon was surrounded by friends as well as foes, as was most of them. The real trick was to know who had what in mind. Archon was a good judge of character, and he had a flow of information that never ceased. This was vital for his survival. Anyone who was a Primogen or a Prince had to be cunning and always on guard. For there were shadows inside the shadows.

While the music kept playing and the guests kept interacting, Archon watched them all. He came to think of the time when he was younger, still kine and still unaware of the mystical powers dwelling in the night. Being fortunate enough to be born in high society, he experienced many things at an early age. The one thing that really scared him when he was a boy was the church. But as he grew older he began to turn his back on the teachings of the priests, and when he turned Kindred he was already convinced that even if god was not a figment of man's imagination he was not the great empyrean king that he had been told.
The beginning of a latin hymn, more common back then, soon emerged in his mind.


Dies iræ! dies illa - - - - - - - - - - - Day of wrath! O day of mourning!
Solvet sæclum in favilla - - - - - - - See fulfilled the prophets' warning,
Teste David cum Sibylla - - - - - - - Heaven and earth in ashes burning!

Quantus tremor est futurus, - - - - Oh what fear man's bosom rendeth,
quando judex est venturus, - - - - when from heaven the Judge descendeth,
cuncta stricte discussurus! - - - - on whose sentence all dependeth.


This shard of a distant memory brought a hint of a smile to Archon's lips. It was a smile of nostalgia, and a smile of more a sinister nature. He might have been scared as a boy, sitting in the pew and seeing the priest as a daunting figure high up on a seat of power. Although he had not understood a single word, the way the priest spoke them was enough to ensure little Archon would have nightmares that would make him wish he was dead. This fear lasted until he grew older, and started to learn the meaning of the words. He was nothing short of disappointed. No matter how many deleterious thoughts he had, no matter how many bad things he did, no mighty god would descend from heaven and smite him. And no man could ever come up with an explanation to satisfy him.

Even if Archon had turned his back on the church, he knew the legend of his undead existance was strongly linked to the christian tale. But the kine rarely spoke of Caine and his fate after killing his brother. It was as if it was a territory so dark and menacing no kine man dared to enter it. Not even with words. It was also a territory hidden in darkness, just as the story of Lilith. Archon believed that if they were ever to find out the truth of their forefather, it would also be the end of them all.

An enchanting flute broke the silence after the last waltz, it was an ethereal prelude to the next melody that would draw more Kindred to the dance floor. Archon turned to the windows, taking a look at the moon to decide the time. Daylight was only a few hours away. Soon the ball would come to an end, scattering the Kindred into the night. As he turned to face the crowd again, he saw Moira Sushill approaching. She looked quite determined, and seemed to be on her own. No Prince, no other Toreador in her company. Though she did steal a glance or two from the Kindred she passed by, and some of them could not help but follow her with their gaze, she did not divert from her path.

“Lord DeWinter, I hope I'm not intruding?” she said. “I simply wanted to thank you for a most interesting opportunity, being here tonight has had its revelations. We who lived longest know how few and far in between truly unprecedented gatherings of our kind can be. I hope certain...events have not deterred you from fully appreciating the event.”

To this, Archon simply smiled and gave a polite nod in greeting. He was not deterred, as she put it. And even if he had been, it would not have been something he had wished to talk about. Yet, he recognized her intention to pay respect and show her gratitude.

"Lady Sushill", he replied. "Your attendance to our festivity has been most welcome. There is nothing for you to intrude on. I am merely contemplating this grand evening, and I find nothing that would keep me from appreciating it. Our Prince certainly knows how to arrange a ball."

She truly was a new and fresh addition to their city, and to their Toreador clan. Even if it was just temporary. He gathered that the Kindred of London missed her greatly, and would anticipate her return. He wondered how the lack of a Primogen affected each clan, if the Toreador suffered more than the Ventrue for instant. They probably did. He came to think of his meeting with Valerian last night, when Jessica had entered his chambers. The young man had been in awe, completley devoted to her presence. Even if every clan needed a strong hand to lead them, some managed better than others when that strong hand was taken away. As well as the result varied.

"Since you are in our great city", he continued with a smile. "I have to encourage you to visit The Haven. The proprietor is a remarkable young Toreador, and you simply can not leave our domain without meeting him. It would be a crime for any Toreador. His name is Valerian."





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((( ooc: Ghanima - Long post, I know. I thought I would be hard to write it, and instead it kinda wrote itself. )))

Archon DeWinter & Moira Sushill - The Ball
 

#16 [Sixth Night]

Even if Archon's business sense was always on high alert, evaluating each situation as if it was a business deal or transaction, he did find the time to enjoy simple pleasures such as occasions like the present one. However, something had dampened him. It was not only the revelation of the hunter. Archon felt he had a vast agenda on his hands since his return. Not only had he learned disturbing facts on his trip, but they seemed to pile up on him as he had sat foot on american soil. Normally, Archon would rise to the occasion without any pensive thoughts. This was not the case on this evening. Maybe the New World moved too fast, and the young ones among them did not see why they should care for the old one. It started to be evident, he and the older Kindred with him had to abide by the new times and learn the rules... Yes. But not so much abide as learn the rules; in order to break them, to use them to their advantage. Archon would never give in, he would never let the young ones dictate their way of life. Instead, he would make sure the Old World became ever present, instead of being just a scary tale. If they could not appreciate the heritage from which they all descended, they had to be shown the way. Forgetting the past was not an option, lest they all wanted to perish in the omniscient sun.

The banquet hall was filled with Neonates, Ancillae and Elders. No Metuselahs as far as the eyes could see and the senses could feel; and neither did he expect such ancient creatures to attend. In that regard, they were all little Childer still hearing the tales of Antideluvians and Gehenna. Not even the Elders could flatter themselves with reaching that far into their own history. Archon sometimes got lost in the grand scheme that was their birthright, but still a mystery to them all. It was a thought too great to fathom for any of them. Although Archon had actually briefly seen a Metuselah, he knew no more than anyone else. The features of such an old one did not tell any secrets, far from it. Even the eyes had kept their distance.

And that was a big part of the Old World. The very base of their existance, the cradle of their immortality. Every milestone to their actual beginning had a name and Metuselah was one of them. Archon did wonder, if he would indeed live to see his Metuselah nights. It would be a step closer to the truth, and that was even more intimidating than the priests had been in his childhood. Although these thoughts did not give him nightmares, as this was his very own ancestry and no figment.

Not knowing. That was perhaps the thing that scared Kindred and kine alike, leaving them both with frustration and sometimes violent judgement. Therefore, this was something they had to overcome. After all, the Kindred were the top of the evolution. They could not just give in to any emotion, and act as if the world was their playground. Finding out could also be a treat, and not always a nuisance. The search itself could be entertaining. Such as the exploration of new acquaintances, like Moira Sushill. She was not your usual Toreador, she did not get preoccupied by the beautiful surroundings and she did have a way about her that appealed to the mind of a Ventrue. The business part of it in fact.

“Following such high recommendations, I could not imagine not visiting The Haven”, Moira said. “Thank you for the suggestion; I am looking forward to meeting Valerian, and am pleased to learn that the Los Angeles Toreador Clan has such praise-worthy representatives.”

Indeed, she was like no Toreador he had ever met. The way she expressed herself was formal and to the point. Archon gathered that was a part of why she was Primogen, as the Toreador needed someone who would see not only beauty but also understand and appreciate politics. That was exactly why Valerian would make a terrible Primogen, as he would rather look at the structure of a flower, than discuss worldly matters that he would deem too mundane.

"I would introduce you myself", he said. "But I am afraid I will be engaged else where after this evening, and I am not sure when I will be able to attend The Haven. And I do not promise that which I can not perform."

He paused and took a look around them. No Valerian in sight. And even if he had been in close proximity, he would surley be involved in a conversation or a dance. A man like Valerian was never left alone at a gathering of this kind, and hardly ever any other time.

"I do not see him right now", Archon continued. "Regardless, I believe you would benefit more from his first impression if you let him make it at his own establishment. And please give him my regards when you see him."

As he and Moira parted, after sharing a few more pleasantries, he was approached by more Kindred. It seemed as if his absence had left many wanting. He was presented with a few problems, refreshing ones as they did not oppose a headache for the Ventrue Primogen. Some of them could even be solved right away, with his good judgement. There was the occasional dull Kindred, trying to make conversation with idle chat, but Archon had a good hand with them as well.
The last thing he did before leaving the ball, was to lock eyes with the Prince, telling him with the simplicity of a single look that he was in great appreciation and that he wanted to speak with Damian behind closed doors as soon as possible.





____________________________

((( ooc: I changed the ending to wrap up this night. )))

Bee and Valerian
 

Still the conversationm with Adrien was toying in Bees mind. When would he start killing again? And who would he go for first? Would it be just a random kill? the first person he could get his hands on? Bee thought it somewhat unlikely. If it were her, she would want to go for the person who had hurt her the most. Who had cause her the most pain. It might be his sire he goes for first, but do they live around here? It brought her to the question of why he had came to L.A. in the first place. Now that thought really intreged her. Hopefully she will be able to find out why upon their next meeting.

"I with I had your courage".

That statement brought her wondering mind of Adrien back to reality. It also brought a smile to her lips. Bee really hadnt thought of having courage to got o him. But now she guesses one would need some courage to approach him.

"But I fear the looks you recieved from others have rendered me a coward."
A laugh rang from Bees lips. That was pure exaggeration. Bee had not once thought of Valerian as a coward in any way.

"However", he added. "They will not prevent me from making a humble request."

Bees smile as wide but a questioning look was in her eyes. What humble request would he have? But it didnt take her long to figure it out. He pushed form the wall and made a elegant bow.

"May I have the honor of dancing with a woman of such beauty and bravery?"
Now how could she deny such an offer from Valerian. The smile he had alone could make one just accept right away. She pushed herself from the wall and stood on front of him.

"You flattery me Valerian. How could I deny such a request from you?"
But Bee could feel dawn approaching soon.

"It would be an honor to me to dance with you, but I fear dawn in approaching soon. Do you think there is still time?"

Carmilla le Fanu - The Ball
 

#28 [Sixth Night]

The evening had not been quite like what Carmilla had expected. This time she was on her own, that was enough to grant her an unusual experience, but she had attended gatherings like this before. The thing that set every other event apart from this one, was the hunter. The matter could not be ignored, even if they were all trying hard to ignore the man himself. And it concerned Carmilla and her bloodline more than any other, therefore she felt it was only natural that she was burdened by it. If the revenge taken on hunter did not work, it could give the other clans the opportunity to blame every single Tremere on the face of the earth. How could she not worry, as her very cradle of life was threatened.

Adrien de la Cour did not breathe anymore, he did not have a beating heart within his chest and he did not belong to the kine any longer. Yet, he was more alive than any Kindred in Carmilla's eyes. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he probably was still fighting that he had been Embraced. She could tell that he had not accepted his fate, the cruel change without his permission. Far from it, he seemed to ooze hate for them now more than ever.

Carmilla did not dare to walk closer to the hunter, but she could not help herself from glancing his way every now and then, trying to figure him out. Maybe it was all very simple. He had been a hunter, hating vampires. Now he was one of them, anticipating what would happen. If he wanted to live a bit longer, he would have to leave the vampires alone. And if he wanted to kill them, he had to wait for them to make their first move, even if that did not automatically give him safe passage. Or, he could create a masterplan on how to kill as many of them as possible - before he himself was slaughtered by the beasts. Come to think of it, no matter how simple it seemed, Carmilla was sure there were several catches laying around Adrien like landmines.

It was not only the hunter that caught her eye, she was also looking for her Primogen. But she did not want to disturb Mina, and when she found her on the premises she was always engaged with others. Carmilla deemed it better to wait until another night, rather than intruding on her beloved clan leader. Mina had already done more than enough for her, and Carmilla did not want to steal her time at such an important event. But she was filled with warmth everytime her eyes landed on the fair Mina, as she was a strong role model that would show the way to them all. Carmilla's worries about the hunter faded a bit when she saw or thought of Mina, as she was certain her Primogen would care for them all in that regard.

The only one she exchanged any courtesy with was Beyonca. She did actually met with other Kindred, but it was not more than a greeting. Maybe they didn't know how to interact with her, now that her Sire was not there. Before this ball, they had always talked to her through him. She had rarely been able to reveal herself, her character, to anyone. Mina was the exception, as her Sire could not deny her alone time with Carmilla at gatherings. Even so, Carmilla had been tied to Seath still.

The freedom was some what intimidating, in some ways. She had no one to turn to, to ask for advice, when ever she needed to. But it was also a challenge she had been wishing for, for so long. And she couldn't let herself down now, no matter how hard it would be. She was a Tremere, and they did take care of their own.
She would return to her home at the end of this night, but she wanted to find another place to live. There was a need for new surroundings, to better accommodate her new circumstances.

Carmilla left with the first wave of departing vampires, feeling as if she had attended a twilight zone.





__________________________

((( ooc: Since there was no time to write a new post for Archon before the night ends, I wrote a new ending to my last post. It was okay with Ghanima. )))

Mina and Damien - Ball Garden
 

At her words Damian nodded which Mina took as an acknowledgement of understanding. He was no fool and if she had totally denied any feelings for Adrien she would have been lying to them both. She had cared deeply for him, but that trust had been broken. Now her heart was wrenched only with the memory of Adrien and her sire and how both had hurt and deceived her to further their own ends. Both had gained her trust and destroyed it with a single swoop. She had taken revenge on her sire but Adrian’s was still to come. And for him she would need to be all that more careful for now everyone watched her, waiting to see if she would secure her own downfall and take vengeance.

The ones that suspected her responsible for her sires disappearance still lurked in the shadows, pulling strings amongst the Tremere Pyramid, warily watching her ascent through the clan. And they had a right to be cautious. Mina did not forget or forgive wrongs dealt for her. Merely stored them inside the cold heart until the tides turned and the moment was presented.

"It's quite ironic, isn't it?" Damien said as he closed the distance between them both. "He despises us and regards us as nothing but monsters. And yet, with the power of a few simple words alone, you show more humanity than he himself seems capable of."

The smallest smile tweaked at the corner of her crimson lips at those words. Humanity. That mysterious quality so revered by certain vampires. And a quality that meant a different thing to each who spoke of it. But whatever meaning one attached to the word it was something she could never now attribute to Adrien. For he seemed more heartless than them all.

Damien halted before her, offering an arm in a courteous request. One which she could not decline, despite her wish for solitude. So gracefully her arm linked through his an ancient gesture of alliance. There were none she trusted to share the dark moments and twisted thoughts with. But Damien was the closest of any outside her clan. And he was a man whose thoughts and opinions on matters she could respect. But still the burden of Adrien was her own to bear as the Primogen for her clan.

"Perhaps his transformation into what he so loathes, is not on Kindred heads alone," he added. "But on his as well."

Mina nodded, her slender pale neck inclining gracefully towards him. “Adrien made his own fate as do we all. But what path that fate follows is open to guidance…” Her lips pursed as if to say more, but she held the words back. The paths of the Tremere were known amongst other clans, but the minor details, the quirks and rituals were darkly hidden secrets. And though she trusted the Prince on a more personal level than many of her Tremere peers he still was not privileged to that ancient knowledge.

Mina’s thoughts turned to the reason for this ball. The return of a fellow Primogen Archon DeWinter. And she realized that so preoccupied with her thoughts she had neglected to greet him as the occasion called for. Mina glanced towards the ball as the attendees had started to spill out, returning to their havens before the suns penetrative beams broke apart the night.

One cold pale hand rested upon Damien’s arm as she turned to face him. “If you would be so kind as to offer Archon my greeting and apologies for not presenting them myself.” A small sad smile broke through the mask. As much as she would like to greet Archon herself and secure further their business alliances there were matters she needed to deal with within the clan.

((OCC Atropa sorry its crap, too many distractions at my mums, dog keeps jumping up at me etc....

Hope the last bit works for you and Psyche ))

Archon DeWinter (& Beyonca) - introducing a new location
 

#17 [Seventh Night]

There was much to contemplate as the sun descended and Archon rose from his slumber to face a new night. The sleep had been deep, as if it had lasted for a hundred years. Despite of this he felt unusually refreshed, and he met himself in the mirror with an indication of a malefic smile. A good way to start an evening, since it hightened his senses. Archon leaned forward, supported by his hands on the bathroom table, looking steep into his own eyes in the gilded mirror. Yes... He had grown old. But from time or wisdom, that was not yet determined. The hazel orbs, looking back as if they belonged to another man, seemed filled with a long life of both pleasure and sorrow. He was content with the past, with his choices. Of course, there were times when he wished he had taken another path, but hindsight did no good. You should accept your mistakes, make amends if necessary and avoid making the same mistakes in the future. Grieving for that which has been changes nothing, and Archon believed the wrong turns helped to form the man he was now.

The night before him was rather grand. This was his opening night for a new meeting place for his fellow Kindred. It had been in the works for a long time, and there were rumours that the Ventrue planned something, but no one knew but the ones affiliated with the project. This had been a different experience for the Ventrue Primogen, as he sat his Ventrue taste aside and had to explore new ways to create. Had he built a grandiose place, in which every Ventrue immediately would feel at home, few others would come. It was also the reason why he was not going to have a traditional opening ceremony, as it was certainly the Ventrue way. Even if other clans would also inaugurate at times, Archon did not feel it was appropritate in this case. Instead, he would open for business and let the news travel as word of mouth. It would probably suit the other clans better. And if he had wanted a big opening, he would have had to wait, since it would be disrespectful to have it so close to the Prince's banquet.

He dressed himself in black; in a suit with a white shirt underneath and golden cuff links with the letter "V". The suit had an oriental cut to it, and made him look both strict and comfortable at the same time. The long raven hair was left alone, giving it the freedom to flow free over his shoulders as he moved. Archon left his chambers rather hasty, since time was of the essence. There was much to do, and limited time to do it in. He carried his suitcase in one hand, containing needed paperwork for the evening, and in the other he held a document he scanned briefly. A nod was all Roe recieved as a greeting, and it suited them both fine, as no one felt the urge to talk more than needed at the moment. They headed for the front door, and on the way to the car, they were accompanied by a Ventrue female. Archon handed the document to her, exchanged a few words regarding the opening, and then all three got in the car.

A bit later, Archon could see the sign over the entrance of The Haven through the window, and it was his cue to close his laptop as they would soon come to a stop. Roe opened the door, and when Archon got outside he took a good look at the building before him. It towered aloft, three stories high, and he owned every single brick it was made of. There was also a sign hanging over this entrance, but it was still covered with a tarp, as was the windows from the inside. The sight filled Archon with warmth, as it intrigued him to have such a mystical place in his possession. He had not been there since his departure from the city, and it was now supposed to be finished according to his instructions. Exactly this was the responsibility of the Ventrue woman, and she was also the one opening the large front door and letting Archon and Roe in.
They were met with an intimate and genuine ambiance; warm dim light from several sources, a welcoming setting with comfortable armchairs, small ancient tables in robust mahogany and bookcases along the walls. Near the door there was also a counter, behind which another woman was standing with a pile of books infront of her. To any Kindred, she was undoubtedly a Tremere. She glanced towards them over the edge of her small black glasses, not really revealing how she felt about the company. Archon had handpicked the few Kindred that was involved in starting this combined bookstore and café, and she was one of four. The other three were Ventrue, and two of them would move on to other businesses after a few nights, as their work would be done. Leaving Archon with the Tremere and a Ventrue male, to run his bookcafé for him.

Archon greeted Julia the Tremere and exchanged a few words, although she seemed on her guard. She had not joined them reluctantly, it was her uncanny love for books that had interested Archon in the first place, but she seemed to evaluate him everytime they met. And, as he had noticed, she had that approach to most Kindred outside her own clan. But he did not expect a Tremere to met him with open arms any time soon, after all, he was not only Ventrue but the Ventrue Primogen. She was not the only one on guard.
Since they had only so much to discuss, Archon concluded with compliments for her hard and honest work, and then he moved on to inspect the rest.
The first floor was open to anyone, Kindred as well as kine. They could interact, read books, surf the internet and either drink or pretend to drink coffé. The possibilites seemed endless as Archon beheld his surroundings, and in that regard he was thinking of the Kindred alone. The second floor, however, was not for anyone. It was strictly VIP; which meant Kindred. It did also have books, computers and a comfortable setting, allowing the Kindred to socialize without the kine. Further more, the books were older and more suitable for Kindred in the search of information. And if anyone was on the look for more rare books, it would be wise to talk to the owner or his assistants. The third and last floor was private. This was Archon's office, where he intended to have meetings with other Kindred, and where he would spend his time when he needs to work in the center of the city, without the disturbance The Haven offered.

As Archon entered his office, he asked Roe to go down and help the others open up the bookcafé for business. It also gave him the time to get aquainted with his new surroundings on his own. An entire floor for his personal use only had left him with many options. He had chosen to have a large office, and this was where he let his Ventrue taste take over. The walls were windowless wodden veneer, the floor covered with a victorian carpet and the ceiling held a grand chandelier. He had brought paintings and statues that had been stored in his home, to give him inspiration, and he had picked out a large desk, handmade by a Toreador genius in Rome. Besides the office itself, there were also two smaller rooms on either side that did not contain much at the moment - but they had heavy and strong doors in case they needed to protect something. He had also made sure there was a foyer, an entrance hall right above the stairs, that gave a visitor the outlook on three doors - Archon's office being straight ahead.

Downstaris the Kindred took down the tarp, and exposed the name of the bookcafé: Algernon. People passing by stopped to see what was happening, and some of them took it upon them to enter. It was not really for them, even if the kine were allowed in; they were merley used to serve the Kindred's needs. The kine could spark an interest in old immortals, and give the place that human touch that helped avoid suspicion.
Archon sat down behind his desk, starting up his laptop and the stationary computer. He also had a cupboard on his right in the room, containing several screens that would show him what was going on inside Algernon at any given time. But that was when there was a call for it, since he could bring the images from the cameras to his stationary computer on the desk. To Archon, technology was both a curse and a blessing.

When Archon and Roe had left the ball last night, Archon had given Roe the task to make sure Beyonca got a message immediately this night that her Primogen wanted to see her promptly. The Ventrue that Roe in his turn would pass on the task to, would also give her the address to Algernon. All Archon had to do was to carry on with his usual business, and see when she would arrive. He was certain she would come, as he knew her at least a bit more than he knew other Ventrue. She had a courage that he always counted on, but she also had an element of surprise than he was not entirely fond of. And now, she had gone too far, or at least proven her ability to push the envelope. He wished for her to use her daring side to further Ventrue interest intead of her own, especially when they did not agree with her clan. The thing about Beyonca, that was set aside from everything else, was her beauty. She could wrap men around her fingers, and even if Ventrue men were hard to get, they had to make sure her wolf-like eyes did not divert them from their agenda.





____________________________

((( ooc: innoscenteyes - I hope what I wrote about Beyonca is okay with you. )))

Adrien - night #6-7
 

End of night #6

Like heavy morning mist in early dawn, the air in the ballroom - thick with hatred and malice just waiting to be unleashed - had begun to clear, and the many eyes that had glazed over with a yearning for revenge as the rumour of Adrien's identity spread among them, had now turned from him, and left him abandoned in a barren wasteland. Surrounded by friendliness and amenity, yet not a part of it himself. Left outside in the cold.
In a mere few minutes following the Prince's gesture to resume the festivities, Adrien had gone from being the target of so many contemptuous stares, to being almost completely ignored.
Though he hardly considered it a loss, even if it had been quite educational to watch them watch him.
Despite having been forced to attend the ball this evening, when all he had wanted to do was to reacquaint himself with Los Angeles, and come to know every nook and every corner like the back of his hand - it was knowledge he would no doubt come to need sooner or later - the night had proved to be most interesting. Mina had successfully flaunted his presence and most of all his appearance, certainly, but he had gotten to make quite a few observations of his own. 'Know your enemy' was a strategy that had always worked both ways. And he had managed to cause a bit of trouble amongst themselves, though he mostly had Beyonca to thank for for that. When he had first entered, they had all stood united. But after Beyonca's deed, there was now bound to be a little bit of turbulence, as there were those that would understand her behaviour, and those that would not.
Granted, they were differences that could probably be easily overcome. But as far as Adrien was concerned, every small detail counted.


As the night began to draw to a close, and the guests were starting to say their goodbye's, to eachother, to the host, and to the guest of honor, Adrien decided that he had stayed long enough. He had made a stand, and shown that their hatred would not break him and make him cower, nor would their cold shoulder make him feel lonely or ashamed. To him, each attitude was just another opportunity for him to seize.
As easily as he had used their initial anger and agitation to make himself the centre of attention, to rule the entire room with his presence, as easily did he use their avoidance of him to make himself almost invisible, and leave the ball without anyone noticing.
He was not a master of the shadows for nothing.

Still he found it to be a pleasant surprise to be able to make it all the way back to the Museum without being neither followed nor intercepted. He had expected at least some foolish whelp would see his chance of earning respect among his peers, for attacking Adrien and making him bleed.
But nothing happened, and Adrien could enter the Museum in as good a health as he had left it hours ago.
On the way to his room his eyes roamed the halls and hallways, scanning each of the various items and informative plaques he passed. More out of pure habit than actual interest. Taking in and noticing everything had been a vital part of his survival as a hunter, and still was. Even more so now than ever before, since his location and his appearance had been revealed. And so he didn't fail to notice that although his were the only steps echoing in the large building, he was not alone. Even if he hadn't already known he was being closely monitored, he would've sensed their presence; those damn ghouls, watching every step he made within the walls of this Elysium.
Mina's lapdogs.
It was a thought that made his upper lip curl slightly in a soundless snarl. But rather than stopping and giving even the smallest sign that they were annoying him, he kept on walking, and could soon shut the door to his room behind him and block out the wretched things. Blood guzzling remnants of human beings!



For the second time since his arrival, dawn came and dusk went, without Adrien as much as sitting on the bed in his room. The night passed had done little to make him feel more at ease. On the contrary, he now had an even greater reason to be concerned, seeing as how most of L.A.'s Kindred knew where to find him. Yes, the Museum was an Elysium, but that did not mean that Kindred were stripped of powers and bad intentions by passing through the doors. Even though it would be most disrespectful towards Mina for someone to enter in search of Adrien, and break the rule of no violence that came along with the Elysium brand, Adrien did not put it past any of his enemies to do so.
And even if they were to respect her domain as much as they respected the Prince's, there was still the matter of Mina herself. Adrien had seen the look in her eyes, and sensed her thirst for revenge, and for his blood. Literally. He could not be sure that if he was to go to sleep, he would not wake up to the pain of her fingernails digging into his chest in search of his unbeating heart.

But as much as he tried, he could not avoid nodding off a few times, sitting in the same chair where he had spent the previous day. Only for a few minutes at a time. He was mentally exhausted. Not only because he had to be on constant look out for any possible trouble, but because he refused to let it show how weary it made him. It cost him twice the energy to keep up appearances while watching his back. And he could only fight his needs for so long.
Though the tiniest sound made him jerk awake, and look around, ready to spring from the armchair if needed. He expected possible enemies to not only come through the door, but from anywhere. It was an old building, and old buildings had secret passages. He had yet to find trap doors in this room, but that did not mean there weren't any to be found. He was convinced he had been given this room for a reason, and he would make sure to figure out what exactly that reason was.

However, despite the rare and chopped up minutes of sleep, when finally darkness descended once again and Adrien stood from the armchair, he felt somewhat refreshed and invigorated. Far from fully rested, but at least rested enough to take on another night. Pulling himself to his full 5'10" he made his way towards the adjoining bathroom while slowly unbuttoning the red shirt from the previous night, letting it slide from his shoulders and tossing it on the bed. He flicked the light switch, only to frown as the bright artificial light came crashing down on him. Undoing his raven tresses from the ribbon that had done a semi-decent job of keeping them out of his face, he then turned on the faucet on the sink and splashed his face and neck with cold water, sending tiny droplets to slither down his muscular chest as his fingertips gently grazed the small area just below the nape of his neck, where years ago the letters 'IX' - the roman number nine - had forever been etched into his skin with black ink. That small and seemingly insignificant gesture, along with his other fingers briefly enclosing the two charms he always carried around his neck - the alchemic platinum symbol and the Egyptian sa hieroglyph - was enough to rid his mind of the last traces of slumber, and make him focus.

Fifteen minutes later he left his room, now dressed in dark jeans, an equally dark long-sleeved T-shirt, and the same long leather coat he had worn on his arrival to the city. Tucked in his boot was a knife, and hidden in a fold within the coat was a small gun. Even though they would hardly kill a Kindred, he would be a fool to step outside unarmed. And a fool he was not.

Once outside he stopped for a second to look in either direction, before heading left and blending with the other pedestrians. His stride was confident and determined. He knew where he was going, and when he got there he stopped only briefly at the foot of the wide stone steps outside to look up at the steeple. Then, he ascended the stairs and pushed open the heavy church door, sending a resounding rumble to echo between the sturdy walls as it closed behind him.
Slowly he made his way down the aisle, studying the impressive interior and the scattered works of art depicting various biblical scenes, and eventually slid into one of the pewters. Not to pray, but to seek a moment of peace and solitude, of not having to expect a sudden attack any second. Not even the most vile of creatures would attack him in here.

With a slight sigh, he rested back against the hard wooden bench, and closed his eyes. Ever so slowly, the faint noises around him faded away, and left him to hear nothing but the echo of a heart that had stopped beating three years ago. There was no sound coming from within, nothing to focus on, and to soothe him. And yet somehow he managed to find peace. Be it some higher power, or simply the stillness around him, something allowed all strain and tension to slowly seep from him, and with a breath of serenity peel away every last shred of weariness that clung to his senses, threatening to dull his perception and leave him with no defense against the undead that hungered for his blood.
When once again he stepped outside into the night, into the soft breeze that brushed a few whisps of his ebony hair into his face, his mind was as sharp as ever, his strength renewed. He was now ready to take on whatever the night was to send his way.


(((ooc: Approachable... Kind of. *s* Doesn't have to be outside the church, it can be anywhere on the streets.)))

Beyonca going to see Archon
 

Beyonca had rose early that night. The sun had not even set yet when her amber orbs came to life. She had done her usual routine of getting ready. This night she had chose to wear something lose and floowing to contidict what she had wore the night before. It was an off white lose krinkled styled skirt, knee length and a thin 3 quarter sleeve sweater and her black heels. It felt relieving to her to have her hair down this night. It somewhat didnt feel right to her to have her hair restricted on her head.

Her mind was entwined with the news when the knock came at her door. Some how in her mind she had already had the idea of who it could be but to double check she checked the peep hole first and saw it was a Ventrue and opened the door. There was no doubt it was a messanger for Archon.

"Yes?" Bee asked.

"Your Primogen has request to see you immediately." A smile came to Bees lips as she was handed a piece of paper with directions on it. She was right.

"Thankyou." It was all she said and nodded to the Ventrue as he left.

She scan the piece of paper. She knew where it was, but hadnt the idea of why he wanted to meet her there. Promptly she grabbed her coat and headed out the door. It would be in her best intrest not to keep him waiting.

The walk there went quick and before she knew it she was outside of a cafe called Algernon. She walked inside and knew immediately Archon had to be the owner. It was furnished with only the best of things. Mostly antiques, which happened to be the Ventrues favorite.

"I am here to see Archon." Bee said to a Gangrel man. He nodded to her and lead her up some stairs to a second floor. The second floor was some what differnt from the first. It looked more lavished like a VIP section. She couldnt help but notice that only kindred was in this section. It must be just for them. A smile appeared on her lips of approval. It was a wounderful place. Quiet and peaceful to say the least.

Then the Gangrel lead her yet another floor. It was beautiful to say the least. A marvelous foyer that lead to three doors. One straight on and two to either side. The kindred left her then and she strod to the door and knocked. Just a soft rap and she waited their patiently for Archon to welcome her in.

Valerian - night #7 - The Haven
 

(((ooc: Okay, I can't help but to wonder... Where is everyone? Lately we've been like only 4 people to RP regularly, and Christmas/New Years is over. I know veldagia's connection is down, and that trampled seems to have things do deal with as well, but what about Penny, snowdrop, msp_teen, Isley? :/ )))


Dawn. A most remarkable display, a multitude of colours staining the sky, piercing through the velvety thickness of pitch black night. A cold, dark blue at first, just above the horizon, slowly shifting into a soft purple. Then warmth; pink, red, orange and yellow, all at once, forcing their way further and further up, until finally the first rays of sunlight pushed over the edge.
That... That was dawn to the human eyes.
To Valerian, dawn brought other colours. Dark ones, mixing together, creating an array of hues. Black, charcoal, arsenic, slategrey, dimgrey, warm grey, cold grey, silver, purple, dark indigo, midnight blue, cobalt blue... They were all appearing infront of his eyes, multiplying with every stroke of his brush.

He couldn't remember when last he had slept through an entire day. Nor did he care. His inspiration had been relentless lately, and he relished every minute, every second of it. Sleep was a secondary need. Expression was a primary one.
The night that had passed, the night of the ball, had seen him return to his personal quarters overflowing with creativity, burning with an eagerness to paint, and to write. Beyonca in the alley had left such a vivid image in his head, that he didn't know where to start. She had been strength and vulnerability, confidence and exposure, class and rebellion, all at once. She had spurred pictures to paint, and poems to write. The images had come to him first. He'd barely had time to change from his somewhat dressy outfit to his usual worn and torn pair of jeans before he started going at it, and soon a background of various dark hues had been spreading out on the canvas, with a feminine form of ivory and creamy lavender appearing in the middle, locks of rich raven hair blending with the surroundings.
Then, the many words swimming in his head had started coming together, forming phrases of poetry that demanded to be written down. But he simply could not abandon the painting, nor could he ignore the words that were spilling out of him. He couldn't block them out, he couldn't even put them on hold.
And so they ended up becoming a part of the painting. Here and there, smokey mists appeared in the background, forming words and phrases barely distinguishable. At a first glance, they would appear to be nothing more than just another shifting of the colors, only there to make the female form stand out even more. But at a closer and careful look, the letters could be discerned, and the beautiful words called forth in Valerian's mind, by Beyonca, would be added to the overall impression.

But those were not the only details telling tales of what was on Valerian's mind. While painting, he had let his mind wander, dipping into various observations and happenings of the evening. One in particular. Though he didn't realize just how reccuring the thought had been, until he stepped back to take a look at the finished painting, and noticed the unnerving presence of a dark, threatening shadow looming in the background.
It was a figure that, despite being painted by his own hand, sent a chill padding up and down the artist's spine. And he couldn't help but to wonder... Was it a shadow that would grow to devour them all? Or would it simply fade away?
But no matter how long he stood staring at it, it would not provide him with an answer. And so finally he turned his back on it, amazed, and quite delighted, that a work of his own art could make him shiver.
One might think that he was simply patting himself on the back, that he was being smug and conceited. But then one would not know Valerian. When it came to his paintings, he humbly considered everyone else to be a better judge of their quality than himself. After all, it was his aim to reach out and touch people, to affect them and their moods with his humble works of art, and so who would be a better judge of whether or not he achieved his goal, than the very people he was looking to affect?

Though feedback would have to wait, for now. The painting had just been finished, and so was far from dry. It would be at least a day before he could put if up over the bar. If that was what he would choose to do. He still hadn't tired of the other one, but then again, it had only hung there for a few days. Perhaps he should give it a few more before he replaced it.

And speaking of which, it was time for him to get ready and go downstairs. Without giving the new painting another glance, he padded off to the bathroom, unbuttoning his jeans - his only article of clothing, save the underwear - and pushing them from his slender hips only when he came to a halt infront of the shower. There, however, he could not resist leaning back to peek out at the painting, as if fearing the shadow would leap out of the picture and slay him. Just like the person it portrayed had already slain a great number of his kin.
He knew he was being silly, acting much like a child scared of the boogeyman. But he couldn't help it. With the hunter's presence in the city, his vivid imagination was simply getting carried away. He didn't really expect that anything in the painting, or any painting for that matter, would come alive. He just needed to get used to it, that was all.

However, once in the shower, the painting was soon forgotten, washed from his mind as the hot water cascaded down his ivory limbs, soaking his long black hair in the process. He surrendered fully to the sensation, each tiny drop of water that hit his skin pushing any last trace of tension out of his body, leaving him to step out of the shower feeling completely relaxed and harminious. Quickly he dried himself off and exited the bathroom, squeezing and blotting his hair as he made his way over to the wardrobe. After considering his many options for a few minutes, he settled on his black leather pants, a somewhat snug black T-shirt, and black boots.
Once fully dressed, with his still damp tresses hanging soft and loose around his shoulders, he left his quarters, and made his way down to his beloved club, and cherished duties as host.


(((ooc: Approachable, wherever in the club. Also, I added to the ooc in the Adrien RP that he's approachable anywhere on the streets, and not just outside the church, since I figure not many Kindred might have any business there. *lol*)))

Archon DeWinter & Beyonca - Algernon
 

#18 [Seventh Night]

To most Kindred, time went by too fast. They only had the dark hours at their disposal within their society, and sometimes it was not enough. This night stood out though, as Archon found that he easily worked through piles of paper without feeling rushed. He gave his approval, rejected when it was called for and put down his signature here and there. Now and then, the phone rang and he did not feel annoyed even when the one who was calling could have sorted out his problem without disturbing his Primogen. It was almost as if Archon was in peace, that everything agreed with him this evening. Well, almost everything. There was a large shipment of books that had not arrived, and no one could tell him why. But not even this got a rise out of him. He dealt with it, he was even polite when he could have given them a piece of his mind.

Had Roe been by his side, he would have known. The Ventrue Primogen was too at ease, too accommodating and too composed even for a Ventrue of his caliber. At a time like this, Archon soothed his mind in order to make it clear. He could not be clouded by anger, as he needed to handle the matter with Beyonca with poise and cold hard facts. He could not miss something vital, for personal reasons. And he could not loose his temper, since it would not help his cause. As most Ventrue, Archon had an uncanny poker face. No one would know what went on in his mind, not even another Ventrue. Only Roe, and maybe Damian could read him a bit better than the rest. Others could only guess, or rely on what they did know. This was what scared some of them, if they knew Archon had a good reason to be upset, and he did not act on it. It was as if they wondered when he would step out from the shadows and strike back.

Actually, there had been a time in his unlife when he consealed himself in the shadows, in order to take care of Ventrue affairs. He had had quite the gift for it. They sent him on the prowl, and he got the job done without rising any suspicion. Victoria, his Sire, had made sure he got the best training available. He had become handy with the sword, and a few other tools of combat. But this was a long time ago. Unless something dire happened, he would not have to take to arms ever again. Even so, he knew he still possessed the skills, since he trained with Roe every other night. It was his responsibility, and need for that matter, to be on top of everything.
A subtle tapping on the thick door broke the silence. Archon was writing down a few sentences on a piece of paper. He did not stop, instead he continued until he was finished, before slipping it into an envelope. When he had put it away in a case and closed the laptop, he looked up. This was it. The time had come to unravel the mind of Beyonca.

"You may enter", he said and leaned back in his high chair, crafted in wood, iron and leather.

Being Primogen came with a huge responsibility. One could not rule with a firm hand, without a great deal of knowledge and wisdom behind every decision. The eyes and the mind had to know what the hands were doing, otherwise it would not be long before someone challenged the right to the Primogen throne. Of course, you had the occasional hard headed Primogen, that did not really care for the opinions among the clansmen. But every Primogen was now and then faced with the difficult task of deciding to go against the will of a brother or sister, because the situation called for it. That layed within the Primogen duties, to take steps in order to secure the clan and the Masquerade. And there were also matters that belonged to the grey zone, dilemmas that had no definite anwer.

Jessica Night #7:

Jessica awoke to the very dim light coming between a tiny cracks in her curtains. It was sunset, which meant it was time to get up and start her "day". She pushed back her covers and walked to her bathroom, where she took a long shower until all the hot water was gone. Getting dressed was easy for her because of all of her practice, and didn't take her long except for large events like the ball yesterday.
She picked out a simple light pink dress and put it on along with a white scarf draped around her neck. It wasn't exactly "club" material, but she might stop by another place later. And it was decently warm out side, so she could walk.
Walking to The Haven took around 45 minutes or so, but it was nice to get fresh air concidering she never got much. The Haven was crammed to the rim at all, just some sparsley placed people. She noticed the girl at the bar. That girl that made her worry a few nights ago. She sat purposefully at the bar, takings Valerian's advice not to worry about her.

((okay, tons of run-ons I'm sure. I haven't written in a while so i'm a little rusty. Sarah will come later. IS APPROACHABLE )

((ooc: Sorry for this ooc post, but I just wanted to let you Atropa know Moira's droping by the Haven tomorrow, I've been out all day today. And hope you won't mind Aeode saying something to Jessica, Elektra. ))

Beyonca and Archon - Algernon
 

At the moment of her knock reality somewhat hit Bee. Her mind started turning over thoughts of how furious Archon had been. It had been a long time since she had seen him and spoke to him. It wasnt likely hehad gotten any good reports of her behavior. She could see this conversation being a long and heated one. But she was to make sure to keep herself in check. The last thing she wanted was to make Archon anymore aggervated and annoyed with her as he already was. So she stood by the door waiting. It wasnt a ong time she stood waiting, but he didnt let her enter upon her first knock. Which to Bee regestered as a possibility of two things. Either he was swomped with work and was already under stress or he could be colecting his thoughts. Much like the calm before the storm. Of course thier was the possibility that she was very wrong in both things. But his temper wasnt something she wished to mess with.

"You may enter"

It was all she had heard him say. Quickly but gentally she open the door and walked in, making sure to close the door behind her. Gracefully she walked toward his desk. Taking in the sence of his office as she strode. It was quite beautiful. Everything was just breath taking. But nothing else should be exspected of a Ventrue Primogen.

"Primogen."

Bee said with a slight bow. The look on his face was actually calm. It somewhat left Beyonca feeling uneasy. Ventrue could always hide thier true emotions. Most did in fact. Except her. She mostly let hers show, exspect when she felt the need to hide them. Which was something she did now. The uncurling nerves in her body was not showing on the outside.

"You look well. I am glad to see you have returned to us. I hope your trip was pleasant."

((Atropa- Thank you

Ghanima- No I don't mind.))

Archon DeWinter & Beyonca - Algernon
 

#19 [Seventh Night]

Archon was a known, liked and respected Primogen. Among the Ventrue, that is. Although members of other clans respected him and some even liked him, many did not care for him at all. It was the toll that came with being Ventrue. If you considered yourself to be just a tad better than everyone else, some would hold it against you. It came as no surprise to Archon. Being inferior and having someone point that out would be hard for anyone. Of course, every clan had members that stood out. Greatness was not always tied to a certain bloodline. But the greatest clan of them all, had to be the Ventrue. After all, they had the majority of the Princes and they collected their members from kine leaders. It was no coincidence. They could not help themselves.

Cool and collected. This was the face Archon showed Beyonca as she entered the room. He would take his time, let her squirm if needed. He believed in being one step ahead, in the sense that he was not going to wait until she truly faulted before he did anything about it. It was not only in regards of the clan and the Masquerade. It was actions taken by a caring Primogen towards his subject. If she indeed was on the wrong path, it was his duty to give her guidance. She was a young one, at least in comparasion to Archon. And he had always felt she appeared younger than she was, in her demeanor and in her eyes.
No matter how angry he had been, hearing about the incident at The Haven and seeing her talking to the hunter, he felt quite like the father summoning his daughter. However, that did not make his anger disappear, but it did give him ideas on how to deal with the situation at hand. He rarely decided entirely on what to do, before having the wrongdoer present. And Beyonca had commited no crime against the Masquerade, she had merely shown a bad sense of judgement.

Nothing escaped Archon. He noticed that she must have contemplated her actions, as she seemingly had on purpose dressed herself in clothes more appropriate for a Ventrue, and she did not enter brazenly, like she had approached the hunter. Even though she seemed calm, she displayed that of a loyal and devoted subordinate. Yet, Archon did not believe this was an excuse on her behalf, but more an attempt to please him. She was no fool. She knew he was not happy with her. Had she been oblivious, their meeting would have been different. Archon chose his strategy based on several things, one of them was the state of mind of others. It was much like warfare, but with less violence and another set of arms. Though the same basics were useful in more simple matters, like a Ventrue with a stubborn mind of her own. He was not out to break her, initially he needed to understand her.

"Primogen", she said with a slight bow. "You look well. I am glad to see you have returned to us. I hope your trip was pleasant."

This was when Archon's arctic heart came in handy. The lovely Kindred before him used her charm, and he could very well decide to forgett her trespassings. Had he not been Archon. Many had tried to indulge him, in order to lessen the blow. When in the presence of Archon, one could at least be certain to be treated fair. He would not make his decision based on his personal preferences alone. It was far down on the list. Archon was really a hardcore Ventrue, the blood of the clan flowed through his veins as blue as it came. He took great pride in everything dear to him. He could be harsh to Kindred that did not behave themself. And you would think he would let his own clan off the hook. On the contrary; he expected his fellow clansmen to portray the Ventrue with dignity.

Beyonca had made the first move, advanced with her first pawn on the board. And yes, her Primogen could certainly play the first part of the game according to her wishes. It actually worked well with his own intentions. None the less, she did not disappoint him at the moment. If only she had choosen to act as wise the nights before this one, they would not have found themselves in this position.
Archon gave her a nod, in recognition of her polite opening, but he did not respond directly to her words for the time being. He found that he could not reply without diverting from his direction, thus he spoke with another angle of incidence.

"I did send for you, but I will give you the opportunity to speak first, if there is anything you want to say before I begin."

He motioned to the chair before his desk. It was not as grand as his, but still after his own heart. It was clothed in red velvet, red as blood, and made from a dark kind of wood, crafted with angels in the legs. They did not look like the usual friendly cherubs, but like archangels decending from heaven to wage war on earth.

"Please, take a seat."




___________________________

((( ooc: innoscenteyes - This is so much fun. )))

Valerian & Moira - The Haven
 

Daring hands on a mission to excite, to arouse, to awaken the lust that so 'clearly' dwelled within such a sensual creature, slyly slipping under the soft dusky fabric of his shirt. Smooth, deft digits working their way up, running gently along his torso, caressing every minute ripple of his slender chest, begging him to succumb to their seduction.
Then, sharp black nails, digging mercilessly into his cool flesh, clawing his ivory skin on their way down, forcing his eyes to close at the sensation of such sweet pain, drawing a gasp of surprise and excitement from his plush, tantalizing lips. A gasp that was cut off, silenced by his own teeth sinking into his lower lip, biting into the silver stud running through it.

Valerian had not roamed the club for even five minutes, before a dark gothic and quite brazen beauty seized him by the hand and tugged at his arm, inviting him to come play with her in the midst of sweaty, moving bodies and aerial pillars of colorful light sweeping back and forth across the sea of bobbing heads. A warm body had pressed itself against his, arms had wrapped themselves around his waist and a pair of dark blood red lips against his neck had been the only introduction she gave.

Now, as he opened his eyes once again, he found himself gazing down at a wicked grin, at the face of mischief itself. Hair as soft and smooth as black silk, powdered skin that made her equally pale as him, and twinkling eyes, with dark purple contacts that when not hit by one of the many spotlights appeared to pitch black. A neverending abyss of darkness, a gorge opening up to consume and never let go. And then there were those ruby lips, curling into a devilish smile, promising pleasure and pain in the sweetest form.

A temptation if ever there was one. Not on the grounds of physical pleasure, for indeed, human lovemaking held little thrill to the Kindred. Their libido had been drained from them along with their blood as they were Embraced. It had withered from their memories, and in it's place was now a drive far more powerful than any drive of mankind. The thirst for blood.
Nevertheless, a true rarity among his kind, Valerian still took pleasure in the act, though it was of a different kind than that of his partners. He thrived on the closeness, on the excitement and the gratification written on the face of his lovers, and most of all he enjoyed the sensation of their arms around him, or his around them, as they drifted of to sleep. It brought him peace, and harmony. A purpose, no matter how fleeting. It meant that he existed, that undead or not, he was alive.
That was one side of the coin. The one that shone brighter than the other, the one that no matter how many times the coin was flipped, would land facing up.
The other side, the one never seen, the one shrouded in obscurity, hidden by dazzling, affectionate smiles and an eagerness to please, was something far different. Few knew, although some who were familiar with his ways could probably suspect, that Valerian feared loneliness, more than anything else. He was fond of solitude only when he was painting, or writing.

Thus, he'd be quite willing to let the gothic beauty have her way with him, had his adulterous gaze not happened to stray from her face, only for a moment, and land on a certain someone across the roon. He only spotted the back of her, yet it was all he needed to immediately recognize her. The black, stylish shoulder-length bob, the long legs, the confidence lacing even the smallest of her movements.
Jessica.
She was sitting over by the bar, seemingly relaxed, with her legs neatly crossed under something as rare as a pale pink dress, making her look like the epitome of innocence in a club that seemed to have an unspoken dresscode consisting of black, dark purple, dark blue, dark gray, and the occasional red.
Valerian was surprised, to say the least. Considering her behaviour the other night - her worries concerning the new, stunningly beautiful bartender - and most of all considering his reply to those worries, he had not expected her to visit The Haven. Not while the reason for her anxiety was still working there.
But not only was she here, she was sitting not ten feet from the very person she had asked Valerian to "do something" about. It all seemed most odd. Either she must've decided to make herself known to the young woman, to resume what had started... what was it? Eight years ago, according to Jessica? Or, she had far more sinister plans in mind. With Valerian offering little help, had she decided to take matters into her own hands, and rid herself of the threat, and the world of a pretty, vibrant young girl?
He wasn't quite sure what to believe. In the time he had known Jessica, he hadn't really come to know her at all. She was his Primogen, and yet she seemed more elusive to him than any other Kindred, of any other clan. It frustrated him to no end, to not be able to connect with her on any level whatsoever.
He better keep an eye on her, and the bartender especially. If Jessica's plan was indeed to eliminate the threat, he couldn't stand idly by. Not when there were so many other ways, and all far more pleasant that draining the life of a young woman.

And so, he reluctantly freed himself from the gothic beauty's grasp, brushing his lips teasingly against hers just before he stepped back, giving her a faint, suggestive smile, filled with promises for later. Though he couldn't help but chuckle slightly, as her disappointment was clearly written on her face, lips pursing together in a sullen look telling him 'Not fair'. The facial expression of a sulking child, and at the same time so very far from it.
Giving her one last look, Valerian turned, and slowly started making his way to a spot that would offer a good view of the entire club. He had no intention of approaching Jessica. She didn't seem all that fond of him already, and he doubted putting his nose in her business would make a change for the better. He would simply observe, glance in her direction every now and then, while still acting the part of the lovable host, and hope to be able to figure out what she had in mind that way.

Though it would seem fate had other plans. Just as he reached the spot where he had intended to begin his observation, there was something that drew his eyes away from the bar, something that demanded his attention. A presence so strong he could but obey.
Approaching him was a most stunning woman, a creature of such beauty it left no doubt in his mind she was not only Kindred, but a Toreador as well. Fire and ice. Those were the words that came to mind as he gazed at her pearly white features, framed by locks of flaming red hair, ruffled ever so slightly by the breeze outside.
He had seen her before. At the ball the night before, where his eyes had been drawn to her much like they were now. Though back then, it had been mostly out of curiousity, as he had been all the way across the room, engrossed in an elegant waltz with Beyonca, when he had spotted her, and only noted that she was someone he had never had the pleasure of meeting. He would've gone over to introduce himself, once Beyonca withdrew from his company in order to take her leave of the ball and go home, but alas, Claudia had found him just then and requested that he'd dance the last dance with her. But perhaps it had been for the better. Valerian doubted he would've approached even if he had been left with the opportunity, for the alluring redhead had been engaged in a conversation with Archon; something that Valerian wouldn't dream of interrupting. He respected Archon, not only as the Ventrue Primogen, but as a friend as well, and even though he doubted the man would be angry with him if he had chosen to interrupt - slightly annoyed perhaps, but not angry - he also knew how... uptight the Ventrue tended to be, especially during occasion as official as this one had been. And so Valerian had left the ball, leaving his curiousity to be sated at another time.
That time, apparently, was now.

"Excuse me," the redhead greeted him softly, her voice flowing like velvet from her lips, revealing the charming British accent that he himself had lost a long time ago. "I am looking for Mr. Valerian, who I am told owns this establishment. My name is Moira Sushill."

It didn't matter how many times before he had been called 'mister', or 'Sir', it still always rung like the melody of an out of tune piano in his ears, and made him cringe inwardly. Yes, it was the proper and polite way of addressing someone, but it was also a title that put so much distance between people. Valerian didn't want to be a 'mister', he simply wanted to be Valerian.
However, he soon forgot how much the word bothered him, when offered the knowledge of her name. Moira Sushill... He couldn't decide if it was a name he had heard before or not. Something about it sounded familiar, but he wasn't sure of the circumstances.
But, if he was expected to know it, he would soon find out.

"Miss Sushill", he greeted her in return, and his lips parted in a warm, welcoming smile. "It's a pleasure meeting you. I had hoped to make your acquaintance last night, but didn't want to interfere with your conversation with Lord DeWinter."

Usually, he would've scooped up her right hand with his own and brushed his lips against her knuckles, as he usually did when his gut told him the lady would accept the gesture. But with Moira, there was such an air of... authority that made him wary of possibly going to far, and so since she didn't offer her hand, as was the proper way of triggering the gesture, he didn't reach for it either, but simply inclined his head in a slight bow.

"I would be the man you seek, as I am the owner of the club", he continued, still with the warm smile lingering on his lips and his eyes twinkling with genuine enthusiasm over this new acquaintance. "But please, call me Valerian. 'Mister' makes me feel so old. Now, what can I do for you?"


(((ooc: Sorry it took sooooooo very long. As one of my other characters in another RP put it; it seems me and my creativity are having a disagreement. *s*)))

Jessica and Aeode
 

"Is there anything I can get you?" Jessica was sure this was the girl from 8 years ago, but she probably has no idea. She had beautiful red hair, and freckles. Even prettier than she remembered.

"Yes, actually, some water would be nice. Not in the mood to drink tonight." She felt eyes were on her. Everywhere. Maybe her dress choice wasn't the best. A mental note, don't wear pink to The Haven again. "You're new, aren't you?" I haven't seen you here, or have I just be coming around your shift?"

Dawn had come by the time Carissa managed to retire into her bed. Outside the sky was a pale blue, no sun was visible, but one could effortlessly guess at its location by the orange horizon that stretched out beyond the city. The sun had only moments before it would peak over, spreading its light through the city.

She fell asleep in no time, slumbering through the day as the humans went about they're business in the city below. Above the city, the sun slowly glided from east to went, eventually sinking below the horizon.

A new night.

Carissa awoke about an hour into the night, finding herself once again faced with the delema of what to do. She contemplated her choices as she readied, and by the time she was finished, she had come to a conclusion.

The Haven should be fun. She thought it over as she walked down the street. Valerian was by far the only person here who she knew. That she had run into, of coarse. The past couple nights she had been too busy with other things for socializing and searching for possibly still remaining old friends.

She kept her eyes on the ground as she walked, looking up occasionally to check her surroundings and location. There were very few others around tonight, some random humans, she saw one or two other kindred, with whom a friendly smile was exchanged, but mostly she was alone.

It was during one of these brief moments of glancing around her that another kindred caught her eye, walking from the opposite direction toward her. At first glance, she passed him as another stranger. But upon getting closer, she recognized him, her brows instantly rising in interest.

Adrien De La Cour.

((Trying to reinspire myself. Lol. This seemed like something interesting to do.

Uhmm...do whatever you want Atropa. o.O))

Valerian & Moira - The Haven
 

(((ooc: Penny - Glad to have her back! . And XsnowdropX - Glad to see you back. I'm sure it can turn out pretty darned interesting. *s*.)))



"The pleasure is all mine".

Despite the thumping music filling the club, reducing the sound of any human voice to nothing more than lips moving, Valerian had no trouble hearing Moira's reply. Her voice was soft and pleasant, like a melody on it's own, delicately weaving it's way through the pounding metal beat, and reaching his ears with the greatest of ease. Accompanied by a graceful bow of her slender neck, it offered her cordial response to his greeting. Valerian simply couldn't help but to smile. Her accent alone was enough to make his lips curl with appreciation. Though he did come to the conclusion that he had done the right thing by not imposing his lavish greeting on her. Not because of the aura of authority that surrounded her, but because she seemed rather reserved. Most people did, Kindred especially, when meeting someone new. And Valerian really did want her to feel welcome. Not assaulted. Thus, he settled for offering his usual warm and disarming smile, hoping it would get his point across.

"Perhaps our meeting has worked out for the best after all," she said with a smile of her own. "It may indeed shorten protocol. Lord DeWinter sends his regards, by the way."

Moira had now entered one of the very first stages in learning about Valerian; the stage of realizing just what a wide range of different smiles the young Toreador possessed. There always seemed to be one on his beautiful face, for a variety of reasons; joy, mirth, delight, excitement, gratitude, appreciation, bashfulness, irony, and on the rare occasion even melancholy. No matter what feeling was currently ruling his being, there always seemed to be a smile to properly convey it. There were, of course, times when he was serious, but even then there often appeared to be an ever so faint curve to his lips. A serenity, as though his very essence was harmony and joy of life, and so strong it kept shining through.
This instant, the smile on his lips was that of humility. By Moira's comments, he understood that it must've been Archon that set her on the path to The Haven, and it made him feel deeply humbled, simply because while he was aware that Archon approved of his club, every sign the Ventrue Primogen cared to give was a true compliment, not to be taken lightly.
Valerian would have to thank him, when the right opportunity presented itself. He could only hope it would be soon, for they still had things to discuss. Archon had hinted at a business proposal, and quite frankly, Valerian was dying to know what it was. The two of them had dealt with one another on a professional level before, but never on a particularly large scale. This... This had sounded like it would be something different.

"Very well, Valerian," she agreed to his request to be called by his first name only, and gave a slightly more animated smile as well.

Though he didn't fail to notice how for a moment it had been tweaked by a hint of bitterness. Every so often he would see it on the face of Kindred, when they saw in him what had at times been described as his overwhelming youth. Mostly Elders, sometimes Ancillae, rarely Neonates. Sometimes with a tinge of jealousy, of wanting what he had and would so love to share with anyone who would let him. Sometimes with a saddened shadow that stole across their face, in mourning of a time long gone. And sometimes, it was just bitterness, plain and simple.
In some, it seemed neverending. In others, like Moira, it seemed a fleeting moment. The sadness came and went in the blink of an eye.

"Then I shall be Moira," she said, "for once free of the ever present formality which surrounds us at every turn. I simply wished to visit your club and meet you if I could, as both have been most highly recommended to me. Forgive my curiosity, but I couldn't help noticing the canvas overhanging the bar, quite the centerpiece indeed – are you the artist...?"

Had she been on a mission to make him adore her, she would've succeeded. No sooner had she mentioned her observation of the painting, than his eyes lit up and his smile widened. Every compliment paid to one of his pieces, was a compliment paid to him, and there was no approval that he treasured more than that of a fellow Toreador, for in his mind, they were the most skilled critics.

"Thank you", he smiled, completely forgetting to confirm that he was indeed the creator of the painting, in his eagerness to tell her about it. Though his enthusiasm should be answer enough. "I wanted something a little more dark and eerie than the last one. Something to really add to the feel and the experience of The Haven, not just decorate it."

Not that any of his art didn't succeed at being more than just decoration, but this one did hold a bit more intensity than it's predecessors. Mostly because none of the predecessors had shown much of his truly dark side. Those paintings he mostly kept to himself, and to those of his friends that took an interest in the fruits of his creativity.

"Oh, that reminds me", he continued and lit up once again, as though he had just thought of something. "I finished my latest one just about an hour ago. It's drying in my studio. Would you like to see it?"

However, before Moira got a chance to reply (much to Valerian's dismay), they were interrupted, when a young, pretty blonde approached. With an apologetic glance at Moira, she put her hand on Valerian's arm, and reached up to make her voice heard over the music.

"Ada's outside."

For the first time this evening, the smile faded from Valerian's lips, and he turned his head to look at the blode - Melody - almost as if questioning if he had heard her right. Melody simply nodded, and remained by his side, apparently awaiting instructions.
For a moment, Valerian was silent, considering his options. He couldn't ignore Ada, for two reasons; if he did, she could choose to defy the ban, again. Granted, her actions would be on her head, but Valerian really didn't want any more trouble. And, if she was here to make amends, he should give her the chance.
At the same time, he really didn't want to have to excuse himself from Moira's company. He wanted to keep talking to her, learn more about her, hopefully even befriend her.

"That woman's timing...", he muttered to himself, before turning to Melody. "Show her to my door out back, I'll be there in a minute."

His young ghoul nodded, and after another glance at Moira, started making her way back through the crowd, leaving Valerian to turn to his new acquaintance.

"I'm afraid I may have a situation on my hands", he said, with a small apologetic smile. "It shouldn't take long. May I invite you to wait in the VIP lounge upstairs? I would so love for us to have a chance to talk some more."



(((ooc: Penny - In the back alley behind The Haven, there is a metal staircase leading to a locked door on the second floor. That is Valerian's personal entrance to his chambers. He's basically instructing Melody to show Ada to that door. He'll soon be there to let her in. Feel free to RP her going there if you want, otherwise in my next RP I'll just assume she's there and have him let her in. Sound ok?)))

Beyonca and Archon - Alergnon
 

He didnt speak a word to her, nor did the exspression of his features change. He just nodded. Letting her know he had heard her. So this wasnt going to be a friendly visit in any manner. It was just going to be buisness. Beyonca always thought of it a curse of the Ventrues. Business always came before pleasure in every field. There heads are focused on one thing and that is the goal they have in mind. Which clearly is what was on Archons mind. What ever he wanted to get from her was there, what ever he wanted her to say was on his mind. He had no problems letting her see that.

"I did send for you, but I will give you the opportunity to speak first, if there is anything you want to say before I begin."

What should she say? Try to exsplain her action? No matter what she said there was no exsplainations for her boldness last night. It was wrong of her todo that in front of all the kindred and at the ball that was welcoming her Primogen home.

"Please, take a seat."

Beyonca didnt refuse his request. She sat in the beautifl chair. No doubt he had it custom made. She had never seen one like it before. One thing that stood out to her was the angels on the legs. They looked more like warriors than real angels. Like bringing hell to earth. It was quite ironic to her, they fit to her situation.

"Primogen, I know there is no excuse for my boldness last night. I should not have approaced Adrien at he ball. It was improper and rude of me to do so. So I wont even try to exsplain and justify my actions. I do apologize for my inoproperiet behavior."

Bee didnt know what else to say. What else could she say? She did have a question though. What were their plans on dealing with Adrien? But now wasnt the time to ask any questions. It would have to wait.

((ooc: I am sorry it isnt that good. I didnt get off work until 11 last night and I am still grogy this morning. ))

Ada Von Vita - Behind The Haven
 

Adrien & Carissa
 

It was amazing how in a hundred years, a city could change so much, and still remain the same. Adrien had visited a number of metropols several times during his century and a half long existence. In essence, none of them were ever different, despite the time that had passed since last he had set foot in them. Buildings and people changed. The atmosphere didn't.
The fast pulse of New York, the sophisticated charm of London, and the romance and sensuality of Paris, lingering in every street corner like prostitutes, calling out to each and every passer by to surrender to their intoxicating presence.
Even Los Angeles, that in the past hundred years had become one of the grandest cities in the world, felt the same.

He was walking slowly along the sidewalks, studying the streets, the buildings and the inhabitants of Los Angeles, choosing at random where to go. Not with the open enthusiasm of a tourist, but with the skill of a warrior. He was doing what he had intended to do the night before; reaquainting himself with the city. Taking in anything that could be of use; buildings that could offer hiding places if he'd need them, landmarks to guide him, what kind of people roamed this particular area, even what the traffic was like. As a hunter, he had never left anything to chance, unless forced to.
Instinct, pure and simple. In Adrien, it was highly developed. He was so accustomed to the feeling in his gut, that he no longer questioned it. It had been his only true companion over the years, still sticking by him when his mortality was stolen from him. And it proved to be even more useful now, when he was no longer the hunter, but the prey. Even as it lead him down various streets that were unknown to him, he did not doubt it. It would guide him back to the Museum eventually. It didn't even worry him that much that a fiend might appear, and decide to go after him. He was ready to defend himself, with actions as well as words, even if he was inferior or outnumbered. Though there was always that one unsettling thought deep down that bothered him; the thought that one of these nights, someone would take it upon themselves to defy the Princes of San Fransisco and Los Angeles, and kill him.
It wasn't that he feared death. He had gotten quite used to the idea that sooner or later, they would all tire of the game they tried to get him to participate in, and he would be sentenced to his Final Death. No, what bothered him was the chance that he might not face death the way he wanted to. He refused to die by his own hand, but he also refused to die by someone else's, and leave them to be celebrated as the one that rid the Kindred world of Adrien de la Cour.
The end that Adrien wanted, was to take whoever was to be his executioner with him to Hell.

However, this evening, he had yet to spot or even sense another Kindred. It was almost as though they were still avoiding him, and he had to wonder... Was this some kind of strategy on their part?
But, no sooner had that thought passed through his mind, than one appeared in his path. With the sidewalk almost empty, his eyes settled on an approaching young woman. Or rather, a woman. Adrien doubted she was truly young. He could tell she was Kindred. The way her gaze had locked on him, and the look of recognition in her eyes told him that, just as clearly as if he'd used his Auspex.
Gradually his steps slowed, and his senses sharpened, readying for a possible battle. Finally he came to a complete halt, his eyes flaming with warning for her to keep her distance.

"Vade retro", he hissed.




(((ooc: To those who don't know "Vade retro" is part of a medieval Catholic formula for exorcism ("Vade retro satana"), and means "Step back".)))

Valerian & Ada
 

(((ooc: Okay, well, since it's been over 24 hours, and Ghanima hasn't replied, I'll just take the liberty of moving Valerian along. I don't want to keep Penny waiting any longer. Though this probably will be short, since I don't know if Moira accepted Valerian's offer or not, and so I can't include any of his thoughts on the matter. )))


Swift, determined steps carried Valerian towards his personal chambers. As always, his every movement was the very epitome of animalistic grace, though in this instant it was a different one than his usual sensual and kittenish prowl. It was the strong, purposeful stride of a predator. He wasn't sure what to expect from Ada, but would face her regardless, with the authority he, to the surprise of quite a few people, actually did possess, but rarely saw the need to use. Ada, however, had already seen it, during their last two encounters, as neither occasion had been particularly pleasant.

Reaching the doors to his studio/chambers, he hoisted the key from his pocket and unlocked it. Upon entering, he flicked one of the two light switches right next to the door; the one for the kind of dimmed lighting he preferred. He only used the much brighter light when showing someone his artwork, and sometimes when he painted. But only if he really, really had to. He found such fluorescent light to be quite disturbing, as it would often banish the mystery of the room, from which he drew some of his creativity. Most of all, he favored the warm, flickering light of lit candles. But there was hardly time for that now.

Shutting the door behind him, and locking it, he then crossed the entire room, until he reached the other door, the one leading outside. There he stopped and listened for a moment, in an attempt to hear if Ada had already made her way there. It seemed she was on her way up the stairs, for he could hear the faint noise of someone ascending the metal steps, and so he opened the door and came face to face with her just as she reached the small platform outside the door.

Valerian's first thought, believe it or not, was how beautiful she was. Somehow, that had seemed to slip his mind. Or perhaps it was that during their last two encounters, he had been in a fairly defensive mood, too busy being protective of his club to notice the rich black hair that danced around her shoulders in the gentle breeze, and the big light brown eyes with the bold, defiant gaze. Standing there, just a few feet away from him, proud and encased in boots and a long leather coat, she reminded him of a black panther.
Not surprisingly really, as Valerian always did have a tendency to come up with associations and metaphors for the people he met. In his head, everyone had their own special title. Damian Alexander, the Prince, was the Ruler Of Undead. Mina, the Unattainable Keeper of Secrets, among other things. He had many names for her, as his vivid imagination never tired of toying with her mysterious nature. Vevila... That was an easy one; the Angel Among Men. And just a few minutes ago, Moira had been dubbed the Queen of Fire and Ice.
Now, there was Ada. The Black Panther. A bit different, simpler than the other descriptions, perhaps, but none the less fitting. But then again, who would object? Valerian never told anyone about the titles they had earned in his mind, simply because he knew all of them were probably quite cheesy and cliché.
However, despite his observation and appreciation of Ada's beauty, he would not let his guard down just yet.

"Ada", he simply greeted her, and gave a slight nod. "Come in."

Stepping aside, he motioned for her to enter his personal quarters. Not something he would usually do, but it did seem the best place to talk, in order to not cause yet another scene.



(((ooc: Bleh.)))

((ooc: Sorry about that, Atropa, I didn't have time to sit and write a post today, and I kinda assumed you'd be moving Valerian anyway. I will post Moira's reply asap and include her thoughts before moving her to the lounge. once again, sorry.))

Adrien seemed to notice her at the same moment she recognized him. His eyes met hers, and she noticed him beginning to slow.

She was surprised, having acually expected him to walk on, paying her no attention, much like he did at the ball, ignoring all the hatred directed his way.

Though, it could jsut be an act of caution, its only common sense that none of the kindred were very fond of him. Some may go as far at to attempt to return the favor he had delt upon all those vampires, an eye for an eye. Such a thing would not have happened at the ball.

As she kept her eyes locked with his, Carissa found herself wondering how this situation may possibly turn out. He could just walk by anyway, the two exchaging glares until the angle at which were at with eachother made it immpossible, and he could then forget this moment. It was just another encounter with a resentful vampire.

He did not continue past her. Instead, his steps ceased, stopped entirely. Carissa stopped as well, surprised, her mind alert. Something warned her that this may not end as well as she had imagined. A confrontation wasnt quite what she wanted.

Their eyes still locked, his now glaring brutily at her, Adrien spoke. It was an angry hiss, warning her he was serious. "Vade Retro."

Carissa knew the meaning of the words, and they simply served to irk her. It seemed dear Adrien just was not at home unless he had others fearing him. His headstrong hatred for the kindred still lingered, it possibly had no chance of being erased.

Carissa disliked heeding those whom she despised. She narrowed her eyes, looking more strongly at Adrien, who's eyes were nearly on fire, daring her to test him.

She didnt fear him. She didnt wish to show that she did. As much as she knew that it was most likley a foolish move, she stood her ground. The closest thing she did to "stepping back" was move one foot, which was ahead as that was how she had stopped, back, making it level with her other one.

She kept her eyes locked with his, frowning, her brows raised questioningly, almost asking why she should be backing away.

((Hmm...um...yeah. lol. My creativity has betrayed me. I also probably doomed myself. XD.))

((I had trouble thinking something up too. :P. Umm..I can edit it an dhave her say something if you want? Make it easier :P))

Kira walking the streets
 

Kira left her studio after painting yet another picture. Her creativity had came back full force. She was feeling happy and filled with herself. it was a major relief to be able to paint again. It was like her day was now complete, even thought it was well after dark. She didnt quite feel like going home and she was avoiding Sam. She still hadnt spoke to her after the incident. But Kira was fine with that. Company wasnt sometihng she strived for, she was happy and content by herself.

The cool night felt good again her skin. She dint even grab a sweater tonight. The coolness aginst her bones was something she wanted. It feel all to ..... comforting. Paint was still plantered on her clothes as she walked down the street. Even a little was in her fire red hair.

Her head was down and not really paying much attension to where she was going. She didnt really care where she ended up. Just as long as she was stuffed in doors. It was times like this she missed home. She could have took her hjorse and went riding. She longed for the feeling of gliding threw the air. No lights where there to shine in her face. SHe couldnt see where she was going but knew the paths by heart. One day she will have that feeling again. She hoped she did anyway.

((ooc: I know it is crappy, but I needed to get Kira out. She is approachable on the street if anyone feels like approaching her.))

Archon DeWinter & Beyonca - Algernon
 

#20 [Seventh Night]

A great relief took hold of Archon. She did not intend to fight him on this, instead she gave him exactly what he was looking for. He was not out to draw blood, to punish her. Of course not. He wanted to understand her, and make her understand if he found her too stubborn to deal with. But this was the Beyonca he remembered and cared for. When he had been informed about her visit with their Prince after the incident at The Haven, he had been proud to hear how she had redeemed herself. A Primogen could ask for no more. One could not expect the clansmen to never falter, but one could demand that they would clean up the mess they had caused. And that was what Beyonca had done. It was also a part of why her behaviour last night had amazed him. He knew she knew better, and now she confirmed it.

Despite her gracious apology, he was not about to conclude the matter. Not yet. He did find her sincere, that was not the issue. He had to explore her apology, to find out if he indeed needed to worry about her in the future. They were off to a good start, better than he could have hoped for, but he wanted more from her. No - he demanded more. It was a tricky situation, since it was not made of black and white. The Masquerade was intact, that sent them into a grey zone where he had to tread lightly. Even a Primogen had codes to live up to. The Primogen more than anyone.

"I hear your words", he began with a soft tone of voice. "But there is more to take into consideration. I was not pleased when I learned about what happened at The Haven. On the contrary, it made me worry greatly. Then I heared about your meeting with our Prince, and I was actually proud to know that you could make amends like a true Ventrue. I always saw that potential in you."

He contemplated all the facts at hand, wondering if he had found the perfect equilibrium. He did not want to be too harsh, nor did he want to be too lenient. It was always good to point out that which one did right, and if not more important than to point out the faults it was just as important. Otherwise it was only demeaning and insufficient of guidance. And a treatment like that was preserved for those that deserved no other. And the fair Beyonca had been far from that insulting to her clan and Primogen. He did not want to bring her to her knees and send her of with a broken spirit. Even though this spirit of hers had help cause the trouble, it was also a part of the Beyonca they all knew and loved as a sister. It was the burden of a Primogen; to not only have great knowledge but also be wise enough to use it right. All of those that wanted to take his place, little did they know of the trials and tribulations he dealt with many nights. If it was not a calling, one should not bother at all. Archon viewed the process as a delicate craftsmanship.

"That is exactly why I was so appalled when I layed eyes on you and the hunter", he continued. "I was under the impression that you not only knew better, but had taken your last mistake to heart. The fact that you did not even greet me only strengthened the opposite belief. I was asking myself if you were about to turn your back on what is in the best interest of our clan. I am not saying that no Ventrue could ever talk to de la Cour, I am just saying that there is a right way and a wrong way to go about it. You showed a lack of good judgement. Of all the bloodlines present, one from ours had to approach him. We are Ventrue, and that is not something to take lightly. We carry a great weight on our shoulders, and we have to set an example. Had you been Brujah, I would not have put it past you. But you are Ventrue, and if that alone does not make you proud, I do not know what will."

He was not angry. Since she had reached out to him, he did not seek to prolong her anxiety. Although he needed to make certain things clear, he would in his demeanour show her that he was not to be feared. Archon did not want to loose her, therefore he needed to test her. It was a difficult balance between her apology, and his need to know that she understood what was expected of her. He had to be firm, that was not negotiable, it was actually partly to help her. If he did not set her straight, another Ventrue might challenge him in that regard. And he could not have that. None of them could, as Archon DeWinter in fact was the best one they had to be the head of the clan. At least, to Archon that was assertive. If he had not believed that to be true, he would never had become Primogen and he would easily be faced with pretenders to the throne. And that was not the case. Archon knew in his blue-blooded heart that the Ventrue of L.A. would not have flourished as great, had he not been there to guide them.

Adrien & Carissa - streets of L.A.
 

(((ooc: innoscent - Sounded just fine to me. )))


Two sets of eyes - one strikingly green, the other a dark umbre with a venomous green tinge - boring deep into eachother, searching the opponent's soul for their intentions, unravelling their thoughts, attempting to determine whether it was fairly safe to stand one's ground, or if one would be better off backing away.

Stalemate.

Adrien's words had caused the other vampire to stop. Not to retreat, but to stop. To Adrien, that was satisfactory. Had her aim been to assault him, she would've kept going, she would've initiated the attack without giving him one single extra moment to prepare.
Unless, of course, she was a diversion, only set on his path to keep him from sensing other Kindred closing in on him. It wouldn't be the first time. Far more cunning tricks had been tried on him. Tried, and failed. Not in the sense that he had spotted the ambush and made a run for it, but in the sense that he had seen them coming, and had had time to prepare. He would not run. It didn't matter who or how many challenged him. It didn't matter that it would cost him a beating, that it already had cost him quite a few beatings and hours of agony. It didn't matter that he - as a mere whelp - was inferior, and that everyone knew it. He simply would not run. He refused. He would not show any fear, and he would not give them a reason to call him a coward. His name may be spoken with fear, contempt, hatred. But never would there be a reason for it to be spoken with dishonor.
Never the less, he still did prefer to be prepared, to be able to brace himself before a pending attack, and handle it with the uttermost dignity.

Casually glancing around, he took a slow step back from the spot to which he had seemed to be firmly rooted. Though surprising as it may seem, it was not a sign of him backing down. Only a way for him to gain a better view of the alley way to his right. Where he had stood before, he'd only been able to see the first couple of yards; something that would allow enemies a surprise attack. Now, with him having repositioned himself, it was no longer a possibility. Now, he would see them coming.

But, the alley was empty, and judging by his Auspex, the handful of pedestrians in sight were all human. No other Kindred as far as the eye could see. Satisfied, he turned his smoldering gaze back to the young woman infront of him. And relaxed.
At least it seemed like he did. His shoulders slouched ever so slightly, his back straightened, and his usual smug smirk crept upon his lips.

She had stopped. She wasn't showing fear, only cold defiance. But she had stopped. She was hesitant. Hesitant meant worried. And worry? Worry sprung from fear.
But, she hid it well. The only emotion showing on her face, was that of defiance, of a challenge in the form of delicate eyebrows raised in silent question.

"Very well".

The long silence that had spread between them shattered as Adrien decided to be the first to speak, sounding as though she had made an actual request.

"You may pass."

His voice, husky and low, was dripping with his usual arrogance, as though it was up to him to grant her permission to proceed along the sidewalk.

Ada Von Vita in Valerian's Chambers
 

Beyonca and Archon - Algernon
 

Beyoncas nerves were in a bunch as she awaited her Primogens answer. Would he appreciate what she said or throw it out as though she was trying to suck up to him. As any Ventrue his fascial exspression had never changed. Not one muscle flinched. It was a very unnerving gift the Ventrue had. It even worked on members of their own clan. Like Beyonca right now.

"I hear your words", he began with a soft tone of voice. "But there is more to take into consideration. I was not pleased when I learned about what happened at The Haven. On the contrary, it made me worry greatly. Then I heared about your meeting with our Prince, and I was actually proud to know that you could make amends like a true Ventrue. I always saw that potential in you."

The statment somewhat threw her off a little. There was a compliment in his words. Beyonca kept the smile from spreading on her lips. This was no time to strat showing how she was feeling. She knew he wouldnt be pleased with the situation at The Haven. It showed her lack of better judgement. Which is something a Ventrue should not do. Ventrues are suppost to be the most regal of all. Full of pride and always know how to handle bas situations. She did the opposite and handeled it all very poorly. Which also tied into her judgment of last night. Her judgment was very poor. She couldnt help but wonder why she was so different from the rest. All the other Ventrues dont go threw this. They all have their mind set and the right thing to do. She stood out in so many ways. Her personality and character is unlike most Ventrues and her beauty was like finding a rare gem among a pile of rocks.

"That is exactly why I was so appalled when I layed eyes on you and the hunter", he continued. "I was under the impression that you not only knew better, but had taken your last mistake to heart. The fact that you did not even greet me only strengthened the opposite belief. I was asking myself if you were about to turn your back on what is in the best interest of our clan. I am not saying that no Ventrue could ever talk to de la Cour, I am just saying that there is a right way and a wrong way to go about it. You showed a lack of good judgement. Of all the bloodlines present, one from ours had to approach him. We are Ventrue, and that is not something to take lightly. We carry a great weight on our shoulders, and we have to set an example. Had you been Brujah, I would not have put it past you. But you are Ventrue, and if that alone does not make you proud, I do not know what will."

She felt as though someone had taken a hammer to her heart. She was very proud on her Ventrue blood. And for someone to say she wasnt actually hurt. She knew her clan was the high class among them. Most Princes come from Ventrue blood. But she could understand every word he had said. Her actions were more like a Brujah than a Ventrue. Her disrespect for her Primogen was something that should have been beniether her.

"I can completely understand. I did not think my actions threw. I am very proud of my Ventrue blood, and that alone should have made me think better of myself. My curisosity of the hunter got the best of me, which is no excuse. I have failed to make you proud, but instead I filled you with disgust of my actions. That is something that weighs heavily on my mind. I do not want you to think of me as unworthy of my blood. I ask for a way I can possible make amends with you and prove myself worthy."

((ooc: I amk sorry if it isnt that good. I have to be to work in 30 minutes and I wanted to get it out before I went to work. ))

Archon DeWinter & Beyonca - Algernon
 

#21 [Seventh Night]

So far, so good. It was rather astonishing that the humble woman before him actually had shown such audacity these past nights. Right now, there were no evidence of the fact, but their words. Maybe this was all that was needed for her to open her eyes and truly view her behaviour. She said all the right words, showed him the remorse he was looking for. And he knew her, there was no need to doubt her honesty. Never the less, he needed to prevent her from acting without thinking in the future. It was for her own good, and for the good of the clan. They could not afford to have a liability running around, causing chaos. No Ventrue could. But Archon did not view Beyonca as a liability, even if he saw the possibility that others might. He saw her as a child in need of guidance, and that was one purpose of this meeting. He wanted to help her, to show her the way.

He watched her as they were talking and he could tell that she was nervous. It came as no surprise, as he did have that effect on members in her predicament. The fact that he did not express much did the trick. It was just like a good game of poker, where he revealed nothing, and she everything. And the more he distanced himself, the more she let on. By being calm and assertive, while uttering inflexible words, he had her full attention. There was no way to divert, as he would not allow it.

"The actions taken by one single Kindred affects us all", he said and corrected one of the rings on his fingers. "No man is an island entirely on his own, and for our kind that is especially true. I do believe that you honour our blood, but that you for some strange reason forget at times what you are and the duties that come with it. You are an unusual Ventrue, and it is my duty to offer you support. Even though it is your responsibility in the end, no one should be left behind, particularly not when they have a promising character."

Things had not always been this easy during his time as Primogen. The situation with Beyonca had difficulties, but it was nothing compared to many matters he had dealt with. Not every Kindred was this respectful and demure. He remembered numerous incidents where he had to take care of Ventrue on the wrong path. And they could put up a hard fight against their own Primogen, just as headstrong as they took care of business. It was not pretty, and he was still Primogen to this date because he carried within him a greater fight than those who dared to oppose him. The more Ventrue he had to restrain, the more they learned just what kind of Primogen they had. Thus, in time, fewer of them argued his point of view. When thinking of the past, Archon was pleased to have bretheren such as Beyonca, who knew their place even though they were headstrong.

"There is no need for you to fear me", he continued. "You have broken no laws, even though you participated in something at The Haven that was very dangerous. You should consider yourself lucky that Valerian is such a compassionate man. And when it comes to the ball... None of us really know the hunter, my dear. He might be stark mad and swiftly lash out and kill one or several of us for all we know. The Tremere are not exactly the sharing clan. I would hate it very much if he got an opportunity to harm or possibly kill you. I would have to go after him myself and that would just let all hell loose."

As a Primogen of these modern nights, he wanted to keep his clan united. Not because he was diplomatic or caring, but because new times called for new tools of the trade. One could not wage wars and end lives like there was no tomorrow. This was not the Dark Age, therefore there was no excuse for the clans that acted like irresponsible fools. The Ventrue had of course always been civil, and in the Old World when they had not been as civil as they were now, they had still been more civil than the rest. But the Ventrue also had their choice of members to stalk prey in the night, if needed. Archon knew this, as he had been one of them, and could be again if the occasion called for it. But the Camarilla had been a fact for a long time now, and regardless of those who opposed it, it was the best thing that had happened to the Kindred society. It gave stability to this notion of "forever", and would give them all a chance to actually live without end or at least until everything came tumbling down.

Archon was a proud member of not only the Ventrue clan, but the Camarilla. He viewed it as their only chance of survival among the kine, least they should kill off all their sources of vitae and soon perish in the unforgiving sun. So, the vampiric heritage was old and vast, leaving them all with a great deal to live up to. It might seem far fetched, but it had a lot to do with Beyonca's current situation. The Kindred society had not been built in one single night, but crafted during nights upon nights. Every detail had been taken into consideration, and the whole of their kind depended on it. It was their duty to maintain it, and that started with making sure every Kindred felt they were a part of the clan they belonged to.

"You wanted to make amends", he said. "Then tell me what you and the hunter talked about. What you learned and anything else that can be of use to us. If you grant me this, I will never forget it."





______________________________

((( ooc: innoscenteyes - Don't worry about it, your post is great. Let me know if anything I wrote about Beyonca doesn't work for you. )))

Jessica and Aeode/"Annie"
 

“Yea, I only started this week,” Of course. Jessica already knew the answer. It was simply for show.
“I have wouldn't have pegged you for a Haven regular, though. It's nice though. The dress. Probably more pink than some of these kids have seen in the last year!” She laughed. Not much accustomed to laughing with a kine, at least not for awhile. Keeping up appearances, she took what looked like a tiny sip of water, but was really just touching her lips to it.
“I'm Annie, by the way.”
"Annie. That's such a pretty name, common but pretty. Not to worry, mine's just the same. Let's start over." She reached her hand out. "Hello Annie, I'm Jessica."

Valerian & Ada - Valerian's chambers at The Haven
 

The invitation - the rare offer rarely granted anyone that hadn't sparked a trust in Valerian, let alone anyone that had succeeded at the near impossible task of angering him - was not left hanging in the air. Slowly, Ada passed over the threshold, and past Valerian, her movements signalling what to him looked like caution, much mirroring his own guarded stance. Alert brown eyes darted around the room quickly, granting Ada a satisfactory first overview, while reserved blue ones followed her every move. Valerian didn't trust her. She had given him no reason to, since what now was known as "the incident". He didn't know what to expect from her, as she had proved to be quite unpredictable. Perhaps he had been foolish to invite her in? Into his inner sanctum, the place most holy to him. She hadn't respected the rules and the etiquette of The Haven. Why would she respect the ones of his very home? Even though she must realize that his gesture had been far more than generous, how could he know she was not here just to cause trouble?

Though as he looked at her, he didn't sense any anger or resentment, or anything else that would be cause for alarm. Maybe she really was here to make peace? To Valerian, it would be most welcome. He hated being at odds with anyone.
But, until he knew for sure, he wouldn't let his guard down. Whatever it was that she had in mind, he would be ready for it. And so as he moved to close the door, his eyes were still tracking her.

The sound seemed to be her cue, as moments later she turned to look at him. Her dark eyes met his pale ones, and there was nothing but silence as they studied one another. He watched as her gaze examined his face, traced along his smooth, delicate features, searching for any hint of what was currently going on in his mind. It seemed he wasn't the only one to not know what to expect.
Though his face was probably alot easier to read than hers. He was a vibrant, friendly and outgoing Toreador, with no need to mask his emotions, and she was a mysterious and secretive Tremere, with a need to mask most anything. Even now, when he was being firm, there was a warm glow about him. A glow that he, if his Sire was to be believed - which, of course, he was - he had had even before he had been embraced. The only difference was, it had intensified over the years, the blood had strenghtened it and made it blossom. So much so, that it seemed impossible for him to hide, even if he tried.

"I came to offer my sincerest apology for my unspeakable behavior", Ada started once she was ready, and took a step that not only moved her closer to him, but also pulled her into a posture of pride and dignity.

There was a tiny tug at the corners of Valerian's mouth, little more than a mere hint. Not of amusement, but out of relief, and appreciation. Last time she had apologised, her words had sounded forced and insincere in his sensitive ears, and he had dismissed them, for that very reason.
This time, she sounded honest. This time, it seemed she was about to give the true apology he had wanted to hear the first time.

However, it didn't seem like Ada caught the ever so brief glimpse of the nearly-not-there smile that the tug at his lips had produced. The confidence in her eyes seemed to slowly seep out of her, and her shoulders slouched ever so slightly, as though she was surrendering to what she seemed to think was his unyielding sternness.

"Valerian, I've changed."

To match her beaten exterior, her voice had now lost the assertive yet humble tone, and dropped to the hushed flow of a small trickling brook.

"I know what I did before was wrong, and there's nothing I can do to change that, but I apologise and I hope you can see that I really have changed. All I ask is that you accept my apology."

This time, the tug at his lips did not remain a barely noticable one. This time, it grew to the point where they parted in a warm, gentle and most of all genuine smile. While some, when in his position, would've let her squirm and sweat some more, Valerian had just gotten the only thing he had wanted from her; a sincere apology.

"I do", he said softly, and inclined his head in recognition of her apology, as if such a gesture made his forgiveness of her deed official. "How can I not? Your words carry now the veracity I did not hear when last we met. Thank you."


(((ooc: Will include his thoughts etc on Moira's statements and parting from her, when he returns to her, as they didn't really fit into this post. )))

Ada Von Vita - Valerian's Chambers
 

Valerian & Ada - Valerian's chambers at The Haven
 

The surprise spilling onto Ada's face at his words, caused Valerian's eyebrows to rise slightly in turn. Had she expected him to dismiss her once more, to turn her away? Even when every word she had spoken resounded in his ears, hearty and demure, and not forced like last time?
It was a reaction that made him wonder. Valerian was well known for his forgiving nature, so why then, if she was in fact being as sincere as he thought her to be, would it surprise her that he accepted her apology? Was he mistaken? Was she simply saying the things she knew he wanted to hear, only with alot more skill this time? Perhaps he should've been less trusting, and more suspicious. But... No. Her word really had sounded genuine to him, and not forced like the last time they had met. And as she opened her mouth and spoke once more, they still did.

"Thank you for accepting my apology," she said, offering a tiny smile in return. "I know you're probably busy, but can I trouble you for a moment longer?"

As she hesitated, Valerian gave an encouraging nod, and tilted his head curiously to the side when her gaze dropped to the floor.

"I understand that I am most likely still not welcome at The Haven," Ada said, "but is there any possibility of me being granted access at some point in the future?"

At that, another smile made it's way onto the young Toreador's tantalizing lips. Though this time, it was not as wide as the first one, but still just as gentle.

"Well...", he started vaguely, and tried to make eye contact with her before he continued. "I seem to recall telling you that you were not welcome until you could own up to what you had done, and show the proper humility of someone who believes they were in the wrong."

There he paused for a moment, still wondering to himself if he was doing the right thing. Claudia would scold him for sure if he granted Ada permission to enter the club so soon, as she was not nearly as 'reasonable' as her likable partner. But since he really did believe Ada meant what she had said, he could hardly back down on his word.

"I believe such humility has been shown", he finally continued, and motioned towards her. "You are welcome at The Haven once more. Though I do hope you will understand that for the time being, there will be an extra eye kept on you?"

Valerian & Ada - Valerian's chambers
 

No sooner had Valerian lifted the ban, stating that Ada was now once again free to enter The Haven at her own convenience, than a look of pure relief shattered her mask of detachment, and curled her lips into a grateful smile. Apparently she was well aware of the fact that had it been someone else, she wouldn't have been allowed back in so easily. Most would've wanted payback, for her to feel her punishment for a bit longer, so that it would have a real impact on her, and make her think twice in the future. Valerian, however, saw no need. Not only had she said she'd changed, she had shown it as well. Why keep punishing her? People were more likely to wander down a correct path when met with kindness and approval, than turn back from a wrong one when met by nothing but hostility and punishment. Valerian wouldn't dream of keeping the ban simply out of spite.
And it gladdened him to the see the genuine smile lighting up her face, if only a little. It was so much more pleasant to see that look, then one of anger and animosity, or even uncertainty.

"I understand, thank you Valerian", she said, apparently understanding the need for an extra eye on her, and offered a courteous bow in Valerian's direction as another sign of her gratitude and newfound respect. "I will let you get back to more important matters now. Which door would you prefer I exit through?"

At that, Valerian's eyes filled with mirth, and his voice carried it's usual playful tone as he replied;

"I would say that depends on where you intend to go. You are free to use whichever one you find the most conveniant."

Ada Von Vita - The Haven
 

Valerian & Ada - Valerian's chambers --> Valerian & Moira - VIP lounge - The Haven
 

With Ada having left his chambers through the door leading to the club, Valerian soon followed, eager to return to the company of his most recent acquaintance, the enchanting Moira. He had yet to sate his curiousity of her. Though he knew it was likely to turn out nothing short of an impossible task, as he could know people for years, and still his curiousity would never fade. There was always something new to discover. Emotions to unveil, thoughts for them to share, or even an expression he had never before seen on their face. Small things, that to most people meant nothing. To Valerian, they meant everything.

Just as purposeful as his steps had been when going up to his chambers, as purposeful were they now as he strode towards the door marked "VIP" right next to the staircase. He could see Moira through one of the large windows that overlooked not only the club, but the doors to his suite as well. She was sitting in one of the black, lavish sofas, looking as though she was studying the room. It was fairly small, but far from suffocating as there was plenty of space between the various pieces of furniture, and it held two very different personalities - his own and Claudias - without the styles clashing with one another. Claudias small office - a desk with neatly arranged pens and folders, a comfortable office chair and a couple of locked cabinets - in one corner, and Valerian's two luxuriously comfortable sofas and hand-carved coffetable in the other. Many a men and women, Kindred and kine alike, had enjoyed their first taste of him while on those very sofas, be it the sweetness of his kiss, or that of his blood. Most recently, it had been Gemma who had allowed him to seduce her. Or was it she that had seduced him? In all honesty, he wasn't sure. And it really didn't matter to him, as what was important, was the intimacy they had shared. It was the memory he cherished the most from that encounter, it was what had guided his hand when he had painted her portrait from the image of her face that had lingered on his mind for the past couple of days, when she herself seemed to have vanished. He hadn't heard from her in days, and couldn't help but to wonder if something had happened to her. Had she left town, without saying goodbye? Or was there something else keeping her from visiting The Haven, or even attending the ball the previous night? Had Mina found out about what she and Valerian had done, and been displeased with Gemma, thus keeping her from returning out of respect for her Primogen? Surely Mina couldn't mind that much? She knew Valerian was no threat. At least he thought she did. Most did. Though perhaps it was the principle of the thing? Mina valued control, and so for one of her own to accept the blood of what to any Tremere was an outsider... Perhaps she really had been displeased with Gemma...

Sighing to himself, Valerian shook his head as if to clear it of such thoughts. They lead him nowhere. All they did was leave him entangled in worries and fears, none of which did him any good. No, he would simply have to grab the bull by the horns, and ask Mina. Until then, there was little else to be done about the matter.


The decision was no more than a few moments old when he stopped by the door to the VIP lounge, and his thoughts returned to the alluring beauty waiting inside once more. Moira Sushill. Her words from earlier were still ringing, no, chiming in his ears, filling him with a heartfelt joy and a desire to take her by the hand and quite literally drag her into to his chambers to share with her his other paintings and sketches.
'Not decoration', she had said about the one overhanging the bar. 'Definition.'
With three words alone, she had managed to capture the essence of not only the painting, but the club in which it hung as well. She had instantly seen the delicate, invisible strings that tied the two together, and had put her finger on it without hesitation. In truth, she had explained the very core of Valerian's artwork, better than he himself had been able to.
For that, he was truly in awe of her.

Before opening the door, he gave a quick knock to let her know that he was entering, even though she had most likely either seen or heard him already, if not both.

"Back", he said with a warm, vibrant smile as he stepped into the VIP room. "My sincerest apologies for keeping you wainting, though rest assured I didn't so rudely abandon you for a matter of little importance. It is in no way an excuse, merely an explanation. Please forgive me."

With a gentle nudge, he sent the door slowly swinging back to an almost close behind him, as he himself moved towards the sofa where Moira was sitting, each step accentuating his magnetism, his feline grace.

"Are you free to be whisked away to my studio", he said, motioning in the direction from which he had just come. "Or has the couch persuaded you stay in it's embrace a little while longer?"



(((ooc: Ghanima - I love Moira's thoughts on the painting over the bar. You really hit the nail on the head.)))

Beyonca and Archon - Algernon
 

Beyonca sat there a minute letting her mind remember all that was spoken between her and Adrien. She really didnt find out much or learn anything from him. It wasnt a shock to for Archon to ask what was spoken between them. She was the only one who had really had a conversation with him. Or the only one who everyone knows has had a conversatin with him. He was a good Primogen and she was not going to deny his simple request. She loved her clan and would do anything for them. Nothing could get in the way of that. No one would put a wedge between her and her duties. No matter what everyone thought was on her mind.

"To be honest not much was said." She started, " He is a cunning man for sure. Everytime I asked a question he had a way of answering me with out giving me an answer, it was much like a game he was playing. I know he is waiting for us to try to get a hold of him. Just waiting for one of us to strike from the shadows. He gave me no reasurance that he would not kill again. But he is not stupid by any means. I think he would not try anything at least at the moment. He knows we would all go for him. But when he will is a mystery to me. I think he would go for the one who hurt him the most. One who did the most damage if he kills again."

She paused a moment and tryed to think of more. It didnt take long though. He actins and exspressions turned over in her mind. He was on edge that night, but he was thrilled from the kindreds fear.

"One thing he did reasurre me of is that I would not be forgotten. He didnt say wether it was a good thing or a bad one, just that my name and face would not be forgotten. And he was all to happy to see the fear on all the faces. He took much pride in being the one who struck fear in us all."

((ooc: I am so sorry it is so short and not that good. I have been swomped with work. I am extremly sorry it took so long to get this out.))

(((ooc: Ghanima - Will have a reply up in a few hours. Need to make dinner first. )))

For a few short seconds, Adrien kept her gaze, seeming to determine her intentions Carissa stood unmoving, waiting for his reply and, just in case, deciding which course of action to take should the extreme occur, should Adrien decide to do something foolish.

He didnt speak, only backed up a couple steps. Carissa watched curiously as his eyes traveled down a nearby alleyway. It was only for a brief moment that he was looking away, his intentions unknown to Carissa. However, he seemed satisfied, and looked back at her, finally speaking.

"Very well".

Carissa frowned, about to ask when he meant, but Adrien spoke first,

"You may pass."

The self absorbed, arragant tone of his voice irked her yet more. Carissa frowned yet more, cocking her head to the side. She could simply walk on, ignore him. But that wasnt on her mind at this moment. It was just as she didnt wish to heed his warning just then, her defiance still remained, and it had grown. He seemed to hold it in himself whether or not it was ok to pass by him.

He most likley did.

She gave a small scoff. "Maybe...I dont walk to pass?" She looked curiosly at the other vampire, measuring his reaction. Maybe her defiance made her just as him and the person she was opposing, though that didnt bother her much. At least she wasnt the duchebag of the kindred society.

"Why dont you pass?"

((eek. Running out the door right now :P))

Archon DeWinter & Beyonca - Archon's office at Algernon
 

#22 [Seventh Night]

Was it all too easy? The question surfaced in Archon's mind without warning. Maybe she yielded just a bit too quickly... The sudden thought displeased the Primogen greatly. It was not his knowledge of Beyonca, before her recent mistakes, that supported this notion. Then what did? Perhaps it was the cynical side of his nature, that needed to keep his senses sharp. This was how no one got the best of him; he already saw all the sides of a matter. But this was Beyonca, their own little wood-spirit. The only Ventrue he had met, that had a touch of the Toreador magic. That was the only way he could explain her - that she sometimes seemed to react as if she had an impulsive Toreador flare about her. It did not excuse her, it merely gave him some logic to her behaviour, although he did not in fact believe she actually had anything of the Toreador in her blood. But like the kine, even the Kindred needed their questions answered. They did not like the unknown anymore than the mortal humans did. In Archon's opinion and experience, all members of a certain clan were not stereotypical, far from it. They could have traits that reminisced of the traits of another clan, or they could just be plain different from their bretheren. And that applied to Beyonca. She was different, with a hint of the sensitive clan, that needed to be in tune with everything around them.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, Archon beheld Beyonca. At the same moment, she began to speak, giving his question about the hunter an answer. He scrutinized her, watched all the deatils of her face, to see if she was indeed for real. He even took the opportunity to have her scent interpreted by his nostrils, without any sign of this act. Much like an animal, he gave her an identity with one of the senses seldom used by the kine. There was no fear in her scent, nothing that told him she was giving a testimony he would discover to be false. Lying to one's Primogen was not an option, unless one found pleasure in pain. However; lying to Archon was not even pleasureable to those with a gluttony for punishment. He was not merciful, not without a cause.

Oh well. Since he rendered her words truthful, he started to decipher their meaning. "It was much like a game he was playing", "He gave me no reasurance that he would not kill again", "I think he would go for the one who hurt him the most". It was all very peculiar. Beyonca seemed to have a deep insight in the hunter, judging from her elaborate answer. Was he that easy to read, or was he not especially careful about what he let on? Or was Beyonca that cunning, or de la Cour just so sure of his ability that he did not care what they knew or not. Maybe he was just letting on that which was untrue or useless, to throw them all off. However, it was peculiar indeed. What ever the reason was, Archon was once again proud of Beyonca. He never saw that one coming, even though her watchfulness did not take him by surprise. He had much faith in her still, and was grateful she had taken the right path. The path to him, her Primogen, was the path to their clan.

"He took much pride in being the one who struck fear in us all", she concluded.

This was something Archon could relate to; striking fear in others. It was an empowering sensation that could start a fire in the midst of pouring rain. Nothing to be taken lightly. It was possibly the genesis of something great, whether it would be de la Cour's or their downfall. As stated before; Archon could appreciate something being well done, regardless of the source. That included how a mind of a man worked, how a Kindred functioned, even if that Kindred was the despicable hunter. So this was what the hunter was feeding on; scared Kindred. Simple, yes. Nothing new, no. Forcible, without a doubt.

And to respect anything remotely related to the hunter - downright contemptible...

It could be considered to be the price of being such a big man, despite having a number of mean streaks. This diplomatic view was highly Ventrue, some what counterproductive at times, but mostly useful. Otherwise it would have been one of those attributes that Archon had worked to get rid off or developed until it could be regarded as a valuable trait. No one was embraced straight into perfection. One had to work hard, if one wanted to exceed the current state. Archon was such a Kindred. A hard working immortal, aspiring to always aim higher than before.
Thus, when he responded to Beyonca's information about the hunter, he had already deliberated it in his mind a couple of times. He never left anything to chance. This time around, he found it best to not comment too much on the matter.

"So this is your view on the hunter", he said with a slight nod. "I see that you did indeed have vigilance. But I have to ask; are you going to seek him out again, or are you afraid of him?"

Although Archon was a Ventrue, and could be somewhat predictable, he did have ways that could side blind even his own bretheren. And such a way was in his mind at this instant, a direction that - when later revealed - gave him a contradictive aura that had been known to elude Kindred. And it started with adding a second question that did not give away anything but the question itself.

"Or perhaps you are afraid of the other Kindred, the ones that did not approve of your decision?"




__________________________________

((( ooc: innoscenteyes - I am glad to see you post. I love Beyonca. And don't worry, we all have work, and/or other real life stuff that gets in the way. )))

Valerian & Moira - The Haven; from VIP lounge to Valerian's chambers
 

There was an intensity in the air. Valerian had felt it the moment he entered the lounge. It was not the usual soft whispers of the room, of the walls that had witnessed so many amorous and sensual encounters, seen Valerian seduce so many jaded and weary minds with his youth and his beauty, and offered them serenity, since the dawn of The Haven. His presence, his blood, had granted so many a moment of peace, of pure joie de vivre, rid them of the things that had weighed heavily on their minds and shoulders when they had stepped through the doors. The Haven was not just a club, an Elysium where Kindred feudes were left at the door, and all clans could come to socialize, with each other, or with kine.
In essence, the haven offered, was Valerian himself. He was the true meaning of the term, with his warmth and his compassion, his genuine tendency to see something special, something beautiful in everyone. He was the one to truly soothe, and offer a much needed break from the duties and vendettas, schemes and ulterior motives that would often seem to dominate the unlife of a Kindred . When with him, fears and anxiety would be shed, forgotten, left to return only when the effects of his blood, or simply his presence, wore off.

But what he felt now, as he made his way over to the lovely Moira, was something different. The soft whispers had grown to a hushed frenzy of voices, each telling it's own tale. Something, now gone, seemed to have called out to the atmosphere to rekindle the many moments of intimacy shared in this very lounge, beckoning the room to tell its secrets.

Amazed at this new, yet now quickly fading, element of the room, Valerian looked around himself as he stopped a few feet from where Moira was sitting, wondering if the walls spoke as vividly to her as they did to him. Wondering, if it was her doing.
Though he didn't ask out loud. The the question remained but a silent inquiry in his eyes, never to be formed by his lips, as he turned his gaze back to meet with hers. She had watched him quite attentively since his entrance, and he couldn't help but find himself curious of what she saw. She, who had seen the very essence of his painting so clearly, what did she see when she looked at him? He himself had difficulties trying to discern what exactly the look in her eyes was conveying, which, in itself told him something about her; she had to be an Elder. It was an impression he had gotten earlier, but now, he would even dare to venture a guess. Only Elders posed what often seemed an impossible challenge to him, as far as reading people went. They had learned to play the game, to master not only the Kindred Masquerade but their own as well, to the point were they could often conceal the slightest hint of what they were experiencing, hide it behind a veil of whatever feeling they wanted others to see. So they often did, even when there was no need, simply out of habit alone. And while Valerian could more often than not recognize when what he saw wasn't real, he could rarely see through it.

That, however, rarely bothered him, and this evening was no exception. He was delighted that an Elder had cared to visit his club, and it made him all the more humble when she showed such an interest in his artwork.
Valerian had always honored and respected the Elders, not just the Toreador ones, but Elders of all clans. He humbled in the face of their wisdom and experience, and considered their company an honor not to be taken lightly.

"As inviting as the couch might be", Moira said after a soft, aerial chuckle followed by a brief pause, as though she'd had something quite different on her mind, but ended up dismissing it, "nothing would warm me better than seeing a kindred artist's work, especially after having had such a promising first sample of it."

She stood from the sofa, with the effortless elegance of a true Toreador, the movement a seamless flow of motions, and was welcomed to her feet by another of Valerian's infectious displays of his perfect set of pearly whites.

"I suppose it appeals to me more than other forms of expression because I, too, am a painter", she added.

Had it been possible, Valerian's smile would've surely widened. She had just confirmed another suspicion of his. Though in all honesty, he had toyed with various scenarios, as he could picture her a talent in any art form. A singer, with a voice so frail and yet powerful that it would make grown men weep. A writer, that with one single word could describe the state of a human heart torn to pieces by betrayal or a love lost. A sculptor, bringing forth smooth curves from a rugged block of marbled stone, with no more than a gentle caress. But painter... That was the one that settled best in his mind, as he had imagined her brush giving life to the images in her head. Though perhaps that was all more due to the fact that he wished her to be.

"Lead the way."

Again she spoke, giving him her signal that she was indeed ready to be 'whisked away'. And so, after an ever so brief moment of hesitation, Valerian offered her his arm, to escort her. He had been unsure of whether or not the gesture would be going to far, much like he had gotten the feeling that the kissing of her hand would've been earlier. But thus time, he decided to do what it was in his nature to do. Granted, he enjoyed pleasing people, but he was not the kind of person who would alter his personality just because someone might object to his mannerism. Doing it once, as in refraining from kissing her hand, was an exception. Twice, a habit.

And so, with her hand resting in the crook of his arm, he led her out of the lounge, and across the open passage that lead to his suite. Once there he turned the door knob, and held the door open for her to enter into his lair. All the while not saying a word, almost as though he wanted to let the excitement build.
Following her inside, he closed the door behind him, and then flicked the light switch so that once again the fluorescent light cascaded down over yet another drying work of art.

He watched in silence as Moira studied it, and carefully padded closer to stand beside her, awaiting her verdict. Though being the eager young artist that he was, he was dying to tell her about it. Finally, he could stay silent no longer. He wanted to point out the details, tell her about how the looming shadow in the back had come to be without him realizing it, he wanted to see if she caught the words formed by the elusive mist that hung heavily above the ground here, and seemed but ethereal veils of vapor there. But he refused to influence her first impression, and so bit his tounge, literally, until a fairly neutral string of words had formed in his mind;

"I am unsure of why, or what it is, but... It seems darkness has been ever-present in my work lately. It's ridden me, at times felt almost prophetic."



(((ooc: Adrien coming tomorrow. And also, everyone; as a couple of players have indicated that Sunday may be too soon to move on to the next night, night #7 will continue until 27th Jan.)))

Jessica and Annie ~ The Haven
 

Annie seemed hesitant to shake her hand, like she was scared. There was something in her eyes, not fear by itself, but something she could not identify. She struggled to form words to say.

"Nice to meet you." Annie's hand grebbed hers and they shook. Was it truly that hard, maybe she saw somebody behind her. Jessica was consistantly arguing with herself that Annie knew it was her 8 years ago. Yes. No. It can't be her. But it could be... Her mind let it drop as the beeping of a cell phone went off.

"Excuse me." There really was no reply from Jessica, just observation. She flipped open the phone and read the message. It looked like she texted back, but something was fake about it. But what did she care. It was her life so why was she intruding?

“Sorry about that, it was my boyfriend. Looks like I've got myself a ride home. Buut...you probably aren't interested in all that.” See, she was right. It was nothing.

“How about you? What's your story? Do you come here because of the atmosphere, or is there something else about the place I haven't caught on yet? Because I gotta say, several people have described it to me as 'interesting', but left it at that, all mysterious-like.” Great. How was she to explain that? There was that obvious part that was kindred, but that wouldn't be a smart move. It was an illegal move none the less.

"Oh, I know the owner, so I come to visit often. You know, moral support." Jessica took a "small sip" of water, and continued with her story. "He's an artist you know. Maybe that's why it so different."

((okay, it's not perfect, but I suck at dialogue.))

Beyonca and Archon - Algernon
 

Still Archon let on no emotion or what could be going threw her mind as she spoke. It didnt surprise her at the least. He was the Primogen, no one needed or should know what he thought unless it was needed. The uneasiness in her started to settle when he didnt scold her. She had made a conclusion in her mind that he was satisfied by what she had said, if he wasnt, he would let her know.

"So this is your view on the hunter", he said with a slight nod. "I see that you did indeed have vigilance. But I have to ask; are you going to seek him out again, or are you afraid of him?"

The question did not take her off guard. He wanted to know how she felt about him. Wether she was frightened of him or wanted to talk to him. She had to think about this one. She wasnt afraid of him but to say she would seek him out wasnt all truthfull. More along the lines if he was in her path, she wouldnt deny a conversation.

"Or perhaps you are afraid of the other Kindred, the ones that did not approve of your decision?"

Archons next question intruded her thoughts of the first. Did he honestly think she was afraid of other kindred? She knew that they would indeed be upset ans she needed to be careful, but going far enough to say afraid.... no. She didnt fear other kindred or Adrien. She wasnt quite sure if it was her Ventrue blood that kept fear from invading her or if it was just her. Still a smile actually came to her lips.

"Fear is a strong word. I do not fear Adrien nor do I fear other kindred. I know some are not pleased with me and it would be wise to watch to make sure none are.... tempted to try to harm me. But fear is not in my mind."

The only thing left to answer was his question of Adrien de la Cour. Would he be happy to hear her answer? Or would he be dissapointed to learn she would indeed have another conversation?

"It was be untruthful to say I would actually seek him out. I will not deny an opportunity to speak to him again though, if we happen to cross paths once again."

Adrien & Carissa - streets of L.A.
 

A growing frown appeared on the other vampire's features, and Adrien smirked smugly to himself. His words had had the desired effect; she had been provoked by his obvious mockery, his response to her silent challenge.
To Adrien, it was a simple case of testing her, to see if she had any intention of attacking him, and if so, it was a way for him to stay in control. If she was indeed about to attack him, it would be on his terms. He would conduct the dance. Not the outcome, as he was rarely given the upper hand, but he would control the events that lead to her first move.
If there was to be one. At the moment, he didn't sense a pending attack. Anger, yes, and defiance, as though she wanted him to believe she was not afraid of him. But nothing that would lead to an attack. For now.

"Maybe...", she started, following a slight scoff. "I dont walk to pass?"

At that, Adrien quirked one of his aristocratic brows, and a shadow of amusement stole across his smirk, only to return moments later when he saw the way he was being scrutinized. Yup, this one had enough sense to be agitated. Most Kindred did, but far from all. There were still the few that thought that the blod bond the Tremere had forced on him rendered him harmless, the ones that didn't manage to think outside the box. Just because no Kindred would currently die by his hand, it didn't mean he couldn't kill them. There were plenty of ways for them to die without him laying a finger on them.

"Why dont you pass?"

Those were words that drew a soft chuckle from the hunter's lips. Almost everything about her seemed so young. She looked like a teenage girl, and she had the rebellious teenage attitude to match. And yet, he was certain she was far older than she seemed. An Ancilla, or maybe even an Elder. At first, he would've guessed that she was a Neonate, considering the dark, modern edge she sported. But as he had kept staring into her eyes, he had seen that faded shimmer that only age could provide, the look so common in the eyes of older Kindred. She was not a Neonate, of that he was sure.

"Alright", he said in a suprisingly agreeable tone, but his intention of once again responding with the arrogance that had angered her before soon became clear as he started moving towards her while adding; "If you're that afraid."

Archon DeWinter & Beyonca - Archon's office at Algernon
 

#23 [Seventh Night]

Fear. Archon tasted the word in his mind. He had rarely felt it through the years, even when kine. Instead, he had had to make sure he was on his toes, preventing anyone from catching him off guard. It was all probably due to the fact that he was not afraid of death, or pain. He knew both could hurt him, the latter for sure, but that would not make him into a coward that shun away in corners of the world. Maybe he really was afraid sometimes, deep down inside to the core, but did not pay any attention to it. It really did not matter, as Archon did not act in spite of being afraid or because of bravery. He followed his instinct, did what came natural to him. And in that process, he did not care for emotions that did not tell him where he was going.

So Beyonca was unafraid. For what reason? Was she too devoid of fear, was she brave, or did she simply see no point in being afraid of de la Cour or other Kindred? Well, Archon had to take her word for it, as there was no one else that could speak her mind but she. The Kindred were powerful, but reading the mind of others had never been litterally. Instead, they read body language, tone of voice, scent and other signs of the untrue or hidden meanings. It seemed to Archon as if Beyonca was determined she had a path that entwined with the hunter's, if only for a while. He could not forbid her, and he would not. But he did see beyond her words, into a realm of danger. A place where all things came to be a labyrinth of the deleterious, the venomous and the nefarious. If one did not tread carefully. He so wished Beyonca knew what she was doing. Her words lingered in his mind:

"I will not deny an opportunity to speak to him again though, if we happen to cross paths once again."

Would Beyonca's choices and her behaviour travel as a pestilence among his clan, among their nation of undead? They would all have a reason to worry if others saw it as an invitation to go and play with the hunter. Beyonca had survived such an encounter, maybe just because she talked to him in a room filled with vicious predators, as de la Cour would never have been stupid enough to challenge them there. As time passed, as every second and minute was born and left behind, he grew stronger. The Tremere blood in him called out to them all, telling them that what ever he was before had now morphed into something even deadlier. If the Tremere did not teach him their secrets, his blood would. The only thing that really saved them now, was the blood bond they had with him. Who knew what was on the hunter's mind. Of course, Archon believed he could not kill them all off, but he was sure the hunter could inflict enough damage for him to be concerned. There were so many doorways open to de la Cour now, that had been closed before. Archon did not care for this revenge anymore. Three years were enough. They really did play with fire, and so would Beyonca should she face him again without bystanders.

"You would be wise not to seek him out", Archon confirmed, this time without the softness in his voice. "But your curiosity troubles me. First Ada Von Vita and now de la Cour. Is eternity that boring, my dear?"

What he felt told him more than her words. She said she would "not deny an opportunity", if their paths happened to cross again. Opportunity. That word held more than it usually did, because of her facial expression and the texture of her voice. It seemed to him as if she actually wanted to speak to de la Cour again, and saw it as a positive thing should it come to be. She did not speak of standing her ground, being the best Ventrue she could be if she should have to face him again. No, she spoke of the opportunity, and not the risk that it really was.

"The Tremere are not to be trusted", he emphasised. "You can not depend on any clan but your own. The Tremere do not invite us, so if you go and fraternize with them, you do so at your own risk. And when it comes to the hunter, I can not stress enough that you must be careful. I would not forbid you to communicate with him even if I could, but I would be much more at ease had you given me the slightest impression that you fully understood what it entails."

The fraternal air about him was consumed by her statement. Archon had realized that even if she really was sorry, she would not back down. Maybe she had a cunning way that would shield her from the hunter, but he could not be sure. The situation of having a hunter turned Kindred was brand new, and they should all be careful. However, Beyonca seemed carefree, and it did not sit well with her Primogen.

"This is how this is going to work", he concluded. "I will send word to our clan that the matter is resolved. That should ease some of the tension, and give you safe passage. What you do after you leave my office is up to you, but I have lived for more than half a millenium, and I do think I know a thing or two."

He leaned forward, placing his forearms on the desk. The beauty before him looked more fragile than he had to assume she was, if wronged. But he did not want anyone to anger her, since the outcome could be her doom rather than anyone else's. Archon hoped for a bright future for his fellow Ventrue, an endless stream of good things to come her way. Not even the gods knew what would happen if the opposite powers got hold of her circumstances. This Ventrue, visiting his office, was an enigma. Archon's least favourite kind of vampire. Since she was his own, he did feel for her, as he felt for them all. Yet, she held something no other Ventrue did. His genuine concern, not derived from his serious business sense, but from his heart.

"Should you run into the hunter again, mind this: Do not let him come too close. He is a Tremere. They can conjure spells out of thin air, and we do not know what this particular Tremere has in store for us, even if he is a newborn. Make me proud, Miss Beyonca."

Falesyia Kermode - application
 

*sneaks in* I'm a little intimidated by how massive this RP is, and the fact it's been going so long, but I would like to join in all the fun. May I introduce a character? (Sorry about the watermark... I got it from deviantART.)


Short Bio:Falesyia is the only child of a self made multi-millionaire. The only thing her father loved more than her was his growing businesses, casinos. She was seven when her mother disappeared, leaving her to grow in the chaotic world of gambling, shady dealings and greed. She was always by her father’s side, watching how things were run, deals were made, and money earned.

When she turned eighteen she thought she’d see how things looked from the other side of the tables. During the night, she had caught the attention of a mysteriously handsome man, something about him captivated her. Despite should have knowing better, she welcomed his advances. When the man, who said he was just passing through, invited her to his suite she went willingly. As they were in an embrace Falesyia was overcome by the most intoxicating feeling she had ever experienced. The man was gone by morning, leaving Falesyia craving the intense experience. A craving that has not been fulfilled in the eight years that have passed.

Now that her father has passed on, Falesyia is the sole proprietor of the rather large casino chain. Though she is beautiful, she is a business woman to the core. She’s a rather astute woman, usually forceful with her silent stare. She does enjoy the nicer things in life, however, they do not satisfy her completely. She can usually be found at Posh, the most exclusive establishment she owns.

About Posh:Falesyia owns several casinos, however only one she considers home. The Dive is one of her smaller establishments, consisting of only three floors. The bottom floor being where you’ll find the usual casino amenities. Plenty of slot machines and tables to spend your wealth in effort to strike it rich. A buffet area is also on this floor. The second floor hosts several suites for those who wish to stay in luxury, and can afford it. Falesyia's private suite is there as well as the offices and security personnel that can see everything going on below. Also located on the second floor is a set of doors that lead to Falesyia’s favorite place.

Behind these doors which are always guarded by two rather large bouncers, you’ll find a stair way leading to the third floor. The third floor is where you’ll find Posh, an invite only private area where only the elite of the elite, the richest of the rich are allowed. A much more intimate area, with only one table of each type is run. The stakes are high, the thrills intense.

While most who enter Posh are well known celebrities or business men, Falesyia keeps watch on the bottom floor. If someone catches her eye, or seems to be on one hell of a roll, they may be approached by her agents and invited to sit with the high rollers.

ooc - Welcome
 

((( ooc: Hi Shenanigans!

The more the merrier, as the saying goes. You are more than welcome. Great character!

Even if the roleplay has been going on for some time, you can always ask if there's something you wanna know.

Just jump on in. )))

Falesyia Kermode - Posh - The Haven
 

((OOC: Thank you for the welcome. :grouphug: Right now, I think the hardest part is going to be finding a place to jump in. I don't want to interrupt anyone. I shall spend sometime reading. ))

*edit*

Falesyia tilted her head ever so slightly, allowing the man standing behind her to place a kiss upon her cheek. His hands that had been resting on her shoulders patted them in reassurance before he turned to leave the room. She sat in silence, disappointment over coming her. Why was it that so many men thought she would be easy to deceive? Most often her jade eyes would see right through them and their schemes. She did not get to where she was in this business by being a fool. Sure her father had practically handed her a lifestyle of wealth and fortune, but if one was to maintain it, they had to be shrewd.

The back doors to the room opened, a muscular man walked through them now approaching the table where she sat. He spoke not a word, as he knew she preferred it that way. “Tsk tsk tsk” she began, “It seems our friend has thought far too highly of himself. Now he must be dealt with.” The man nodded in understanding and exited the same door the idiot before him had. If you stepped foot in Posh, you better be sure you had the guns to back it up. Once you fell from the owner’s graces, you would be in a world of hurt. Literally.

After a moment or two Falesyia stood and left the dimly lit back room. As she stepped through the doors her eyes scanned the various stations in the room. All she saw tonight were the usuals, seated in their leather chairs at the dark mahogany tables. Having been satisfied that there would be no more excitement here tonight, she made her way to the entry doors only passing through them after whispering into an agent’s ear.

She descended the stairs to the second floor, gathering her purse from her suite, she continued down into the main lobby. The noise of the action in the crowded bottom floor had become so familiar to her that she hardly noticed it any more. Once outside she climbed into the limo that was waiting for her. The driver looked at her in the rear view mirror, his eyes communicating he was eager to take her where ever she pleased. “Brody, I wish for a change of scenery,” she began to address him. “Take me somewhere new, somewhere different than what I’m constantly surrounded with.” Her request had been rather lacking in details, but she had come to trust her driver. The man was one of the few faces that had not changed since her father passed four years ago.

As the limo drove about she absentmindedly stared out the darkly tinted glass. At first all she saw were the bright flashing lights of the strip. Each casino declaring theirs offered the best entertainment, the most bang for your buck. Though that was the air she breathed, the very source of her survival, every now and then, like tonight, she ached to get away from it all. As the scenery changed out her window, her mind drifted as well. To the running of the business, to fools who dared to gamble on fortunes they did not have. She had no problem teaching men like that a lesson. One they would not soon forget.

As the limo gently came to a halt, Brody spoke. “Will this do?” Falesyia’s eyes focused on the sign out her window. The Haven huh? “Yes, it shall do for tonight.” As the door was opened to allow for her exit, the pounding beats of the music inside danced their way into her ears. She grabbed her clutch and stepped out of the limo wondering if perhaps she was a bit overdressed for such a club. Long, elegant dresses like the one she wore tonight had become her uniform of sorts. She was comfortable in them, even when it made others around her not so comfortable. There’s only one way to find out. She reasoned as she prepared to enter.

Much to her pleasure, she wasn’t forced to wait for entry. She had learned long ago, if you arrive in high enough style, you could get in anywhere. Once she was inside she made her way to the bar. She would have a drink while her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the club.

((OOC: Please let me know if anything needs to be changed. I didn’t know if there would be a bouncer or a waiting line, or nothing at all, so I tried to make it vague enough to cover the bases. Oh, also needless to say, she's approachable.))

Valerian & Moira - Valerian's chambers at The Haven
 

"I have felt it too."

Moira's words came so soon and so suddenly, the statement made Valerian blink with slight surprise. It was as though she had tapped into him even before he had started speaking. Or rather, his art. She seemed to be so in tune with what was displayed on the canvas that she could read things between the lines, between the brush strokes, that even Valerian himself had trouble putting his finger on. While he did fully understand his art, it was often on such an emotional level that he found it hard to do it justice when trying to put it into words. Him, a poet, struggled to find the right words! And then Moira had, in less than an hour, managed to not only fully understand, but fully express the meaning, the significance in two of his paintings. Something no one had been quite able to do before. Many have tried, and some had gotten rather close. But none of them had hit the nail right on the head like Moira, in the way that made him want to go 'Yes! Yes, that's it!'
He really was truly and deeply in awe of her. Her understanding of him opened something up deep within his chest; a desire to pour everything he was out to her, a desire to see the same understanding in her eyes as she viewed every last piece of his personality. Not a knowledge that would leave him completely uncomplicated and predictable in her eyes, but one that would have her understand where he was coming from. An ultimate confirmation of sorts, that he was not alone in his way of thinking. He was unique, he knew that, in that he welcomed everyone into his life with the same friendly affection, and that his intentions were rarely anything less than good and sincere. And he had always feared that to the other Kindred, that left him impossible to relate to. Not impossible to enjoy, to desire, to open up with, no. But relate to. And to have no one to relate to him, that would be to be truly lonely.
But, while he was eager to see if Moira harboured a true understanding for who, and what, he was, at the same time he was well aware of his tendency to get caught in the moment and... not exaggerate exactly, but experience something that went far beyond what the other person saw and felt.
It would be wise not to get carried away, but to take a few moments to allow the first waves of excited enthusiasm to pass. Luckily, Moira provided him with just that, as she soon continued to speak;

"Darkness...has been part of my work for some time as well, even in the sketch I have penned this morning, a... memento of yesterday's banquet. Had I known, I would have brought it with me."

Ah, how he wished that she had. He would've been overjoyed to see someone else's art for a change, to study the way they had moved their pen or their brush, the depth in their art, to learn about them, even from them. Moira especially.
But, by telling him this seemingly small piece of information, she had answered one of the many thousands of question he'd had on his mind regarding herself. He'd wanted to ask if she had some of her art here, in Los Angeles. He didn't know how long she had been here, but it couldn't be long. Rumours of such a splendid creature would've soon reached his ears, especially since she herself was a Toreador. But she herself had preceeded any rumours, thus making him think she couldn't have been here for very long. And so that had left him with the question if she had created something while here, or even brought something with her.
Now, without having to pry, he'd recieved half an answer, which was enough to keep keep the question from bubbling out of him.

"A visual poem", Moira said, now coming to the part of her reaction that had left him filled with such anticipation; the observation of the painting itself.

And as she confirmed that she had indeed caught the small verses hidden in the shifting hues of the paint, a smile of pleasure and relief came upon his lips. Her eyes had picked up on them, and even though hers were perhaps more keen than those of most people, he was happy. Just one person seeing them was enough to him. He took pride in making his pieces subjects to different discoveries by different people. Not just having the viewers interpret them different, but actually seeing different things in them, leaving them the chance of discovering something new the next time they viewed it. It added an element of constant suspense, of never getting boring, even to the most jaded of art critics.

"An interesting choice for a composition with such distinctive protagonists#, Moira continued. "Strength concealed in a frail female shell and foreboding threat present in shadow. It reminds me of so many other tales, among which that of our own forefathers, Lilith and Caine, reaching out throughout the aeons, visible even as recently as yesterday, at the banquet. Would I be mistaken to assume that has been your inspiration?"

A small gesture of shaking his head, sending the still somewhat damp locks of hair sweeping across his cheeks, was Valerian's only reply, confirming that events at the ball had indeed inspired him and guided his hand. It was as though he was afraid to say something that would interrupt her train of thought.

An elegant, flowing movement turned her around to face him, and as he beheld the now very serious look on her face, his own smile slowly faded in it's presence. She was looking at him with grave contemplation and it seemed the conversation was taking a turn away from 'just' art, to something far more fateful.

"You say it feels almost prophetic...", she said slowly. "And you are not alone in that belief. Are you familiar with the myth of the Antediluvians and the Final Nights, Valerian? There has been some unrest in the Primogen Council back in London; some believe such tales to be real, and imminent. I cannot say, but I find it impossible to deny the presence of... something, growing closer. Something as dark as that shadow there, in your canvas. I am surprised that one so young has felt and understood it, however; most Neonates dismiss them as the deluded fictions of paranoid Elder minds."

The last words were followed by a slightly dry and ironic laugh, before ebbing away and leaving a soft smile on her face once again.
Indeed. The words that had spilled forth from her lips, were no small matter. Antideluvians and the Final Nights... For a moment, Valerian had to wonder if he was just a tool. A way for the universe, for the blood, to communicate with the Kindred. To warn them that something sinister was being woven into the delicate threads of fate. Was that why he was sometimes so overcome by inspiration that he simply had to paint? Was his inspiration not coming from within his heart and his mind, but from his blood alone?
No... In a way, it did seem likely. But it just didn't feel right. He rarely thought about the myths and prophecies that spoke of the Antideluvians rising and devouring them all. His carefree nature rarely allowed him to dwell on the worries of the future, but rather kept him firmly locked with all the joys of the present. And there was just something in his gut telling him that the shadow in the painting was there to symbolize something else, something closer, more tangible, more... real.
And yet it was still something just beyond his reach.

"That is to say, I am pleasantly surprised", Moira added, instantly dispelling his musings as her voice took on a more buoyant tone. "Forgive me, I sound so grim. You have a gift, Valerian: that of translating a part of yourself into everything you come in contact with: your art, people you meet, even the rooms you dwell in. I have felt it so vividly both here and while sitting in the lounge – I hope you will forgive my brief intrusion into its past? I wanted to thank you for the opportunity of being here and experiencing it first hand, and hope that your inspiration will never fade. That would be... a terrible thing."

As she finished, she did so with a smile holding such warmth that Valerian, although trapped in an undead body, could almost feel it heat up his cheeks. It was a smile so sincere it brought pure joy to his heart, and needless to say, it drew a smile equally warm from his own lips.

"Thank you", he said, lowering his gaze to the floor and inclining his head slightly, feeling deeply honored and humbled by her words. "And please, don't apologize, as there is nothing to forgive. It is no secret that the lounge has seen many... private moments shared. Though I will ask that whatever details presented themselves to you, you keep secret. Many of my... friends favour discretion."

So, that was what he had felt when he had stepped through the door to the lounge. her senses at work, the intensity they left hanging in the air. How interesting it would be to know just exactly what it was that she had felt. But again, he wouldn't pry.

As he spoke, his gaze had found it's way back to her face, and as he looked into her eyes, that's when something else occured to him. Something she had said while speaking of the Antideluvians. Something that he had registered, but that had been pushed aside by the gravity in her voice, temporarily banishing all sidetracking thoughts from his mind.

"You are a Primogen?" he asked with eyes twinkling with curiousity, as he vividly recalled her words of the 'unrest' in the Primogen council of London, regarding their forefathers.

Falesyia Kermode - The Haven
 

After the doors were kindly opened for her, Falesyia stepped into a world that was just as loud as her own, yet entirely different. Not one to stand around and look a fool, she didn’t pause once she was inside. Instead she instantly made her way to the bar on the right. Placing her clutch in her lap, she noted that the lady behind it was, at the moment, busy talking with a woman in a light pink dress that contrasted greatly with the darkness of the room.

Falesyia crossed her right leg over her left, sitting parallel with the bar. Her eyes scanned the room, her thoughts complemented Brody, had indeed done just as she requested. The dark club would be rather depressing if it wasn’t for the lavish velvety purple that was entwined with the black. No doubt designed to provoke a sense of mystery in its patrons. The beat that resounded from the speakers was like a mating call with one’s inner rhythm, welcoming any and all to the dance floor that lay opposite of her. Her eyes browsed through the people that had heeded the call of the music, she saw that most were dressed as if their purpose was to compliment the décor.

She returned to look upon the bartender, who appeared ready to make the drink of her choice. “Strawberry Margarita please.” The woman behind the bar got right to work on making her drink. Falesyia watched as her hair bobbed with her every movement. She was a pretty woman who Falesyia guessed was about the same age as herself. The hue of her red hair perhaps slightly lighter than her own. Of course it was hard to tell for sure given the lighting of their surroundings.

“Thank you.” Falesyia replied when given her drink. She slid a fifty dollar bill towards the woman’s hand on the bar while she continued “This shall cover my drinks for the night.” She took a sip of her drink through the straw, pleasantly surprised that it did not taste of cheap tequila.

((OOC: Thanks Ghanima for giving me an invitation of sorts! I’m sorry, I tried to think of something to say in character that was deeper than “get me a drink”, but didn’t succeed to well. Oh well, she’s still approachable.))

Ada Von Vita - The Haven
 

((OOC)) Hope you don't mind Ada butting in. If you do feel free to ignore her, she'll get over it. :D

Falesyia Kermode - The Haven
 

((OOC: Nope, don’t mind at all. I welcome it.))

As soon as Falesyia noticed the quality of her drink she spotted a woman who seemed to not be happy with her seat at the bar. The woman with long dark hair strolled closer to Falesyia, her long leather coat sending a gentle breeze over Falesyia’s crossed legs as she passed. The fact that she had just been sitting a few seats down before coming to sit on the other side of her made it painfully obvious that she was interested in Falesyia’s presence.

It was almost as if she was warning Falesyia that she was being watched. She imagined the woman was a regular here, perhaps she had a good reason to be interested in the newer patrons, perhaps she was just plain nosey. “Jack and Coke please” the woman ordered. Her choice of drink obviously more rough around the edges than Falesyia’s went hand in hand with their obvious difference of taste in clothes. It was as if her order deliberately highlighted the fact that folks dressed like she was, were not normal around here.

Being quite well versed in the tactics that owners used to find out who people were in their establishments, she decided she would make things simple for the woman and soon prove that she had no ulterior motive for being here.

She turned in her chair, her back now to the bar. Her eyes lingered on the people that were dancing as she spoke, “Was your other seat lumpy, or do you just have a better view of things on this side?” Falesyia's brow raised as she turned her head to face the woman. Her words were not spoken as a threat, she was just stating the obvious and saving her from having to initiate a conversation.

((OOC: GAH! I’m sorry. lol She’s not coming off very sweet right now. She thinks you’re on the owners’ pay roll and doing the job of checking her out. I know you’re not. But she doesn’t.))

Ada Von Vita - The Haven
 

((OOC)) LOL, it's alright. Ada's calmed down a bit since before, I promise she won't throw you across a fountain.

Jessica and Aeode/"Annie"
 

“Ah I see, That must be his then, right?” Jessica turned to look at the painting behing her. It was his, beautiful none the less. “Beautiful piece, albeit dark and broody." Annie shivered. She didn't think it was that cold in the club, but then again, Annie was human.

“I was an artist once... A singer." Jessica turned at the thought. She remembered her voice. Goregous. "Been a long time. And now, here I am tending bars.” Annie stopped and helped another woman at the bar. Kine, by the smell of her.

"It doesn't have to be that way you know. Why don't you ask Valerian for a gig? He can't be that much of stickler, especially to a fellow artist."

((Sorry, in a hurry. Shared computers you know. BTW, Welcome Shenanigans! I hope you enjoy yourself.))

Falesyia Kermode - The Haven
 

As Falesyia turned her head to look on the woman who had sat just a few seats from her, she saw the hint of a smirk on the woman’s lips. At least she was amused. Falesyia thought to herself.

“Consider it a more interesting, if not slightly… louder view.” She stated as she swirled her drink and barely sipped it. Falesyia had returned her head to look over the dance floor, a smirk of her own coming to her lips.

“I’m Ada, by the way. And you are…?” Falesyia turned in her chair to completely face the woman now. She held out her right hand for a handshake, the universal signal of truce. “Falesyia.” She answered the woman in a matter of factly air. Her voice was now completely void of the slightly sarcastic tone it had just been filled with.

“I'm obviously new here,” Falesyia kept talking while she twisted in her seat to get her drink off the bar. If Ada was really as interested in her as she thought she was, she would make things easy for her. “Just needed to get out after a long day of work.” She added, taking a drink of her margarita. “I imagine you’re here often?”

(OOC: lol I'm glad my gal won't be getting in a fight during her first few minutes of creation. And thank you elektra... I'm sure I will. ))

((ooc: I wanted to apologize and let Atropa and Elektra know my posts will probably have a small delay; some unpleasant events IRL rather fried my creativity. I hope to have a reply in tomorrow though))

Ada Von Vita - The Haven
 

((Cool! I'll get started on Jessica!))

Falesyia Kermode - The Haven
 

Falesyia’s eyes alternated from roaming the dance floor to looking at Ada while she talked. All the while holding the glass in her hand as if it were an extension of her arm. “Actually, I used to be a regular, but this is the first time I’ve been back here in a while. I was…” Ada had abruptly stopped her sentence as if she had been distracted. “…out of town for some time.” Falesyia gave a slight nod of her head to show that she was listening. It seems she had been wrong, and this woman was not on the payroll as she had thought.

“Long day of work huh? What do you do for a living?” Falesyia had seen the question coming, in fact she had sort of baited it. It was the same exact thing she did time after time, place after place. If you mentioned work, they’d always ask what you do. Falesyia never answered the question with a hundred percent truth. She didn’t exactly lie about it though. “I work at a casino downtown called The Dive.”

There was her stock answer. She wasn’t fool enough to go around advertising she owned such things, for doing so would be asking for trouble. No, instead she did a simple statement such as that. Sometimes it would get people interested, and if she was lucky, she’d get a new customer. And like normal, she’d follow it up with taking another drink, giving Ada plenty of time to continue the conversation.

Ada Von Vita - The Haven
 

Falesyia Kermode - The Haven
 

((OOC: :laugh: Thanks for the laugh Penny! I love Ada’s reaction!))

“Hmmm… It must be one hell of a casino job, to pay enough for that.” Ada nodded her head towards her. Falesyia was grateful she had already swallowed the drink she took, as Ada’s response had been rather blunt compared to what she usually heard. Most times people would just give her an odd look, but rarely went so far as to question her about it.

Falesyia smiled. “Yes, well… not everyone who sits at the tables is a customer. Many times if a man has acquired the attention of a woman like myself, he’ll continue his run when otherwise he would not." She turned in her seat once more to place the glass back onto the bar. "Regardless of their status, married, single, poor, rich, all men seem to have one thing in common. They pride themselves on showing off in front of women.” Her smile appeared on her face, as if convey she knew Ada could understand that. Men did tend to be so focused on proving themselves where women were not so inclined. Really Falesyia had been speaking the truth. As she had spent many a night attached to the side of a newcomer in Posh. It made them feel lucky, or perhaps special.

“How about you?” Falesyia asked quickly, wishing to turn the tables. “What do you find yourself doing during the day?”

((OOC: I realize that is a very dumb question for a vampire. But… what can I say? She’s human!))