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Field Researcher
#1051 Old 14th Jan 2008 at 1:33 AM
Default 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.
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#1052 Old 14th Jan 2008 at 4:09 PM
Default 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.

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Inventor
#1053 Old 14th Jan 2008 at 6:19 PM
Default Ada Von Vita in Valerian's Chambers
"Ada", he simply greeted her, and gave a slight nod. "Come in."
Valerian nodded diplomatically, standing aside for her to pass.
Ada walked slowly into Valerian's personal chambers, glancing quickly around at the rich furnishings and Gothic art of the room. A clunk behind her let her know that Valerian had closed the door. Ada turned to face him letting her amethyst eyes linger over his handsome form. Long Raven hair curled gently around a firm jaw and dark eyes stared cautiously at her. She didn't blame him; she had nothing but cause him trouble so far. Her time in the mountains had changed her though, she was no longer the insolent, selfish woman as before.
Valerian said nothing. he simply watched her with a guarded curiosity, waiting for her to speak. Ada took a step towards him, straightening her back and brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

" I came to offer my sincerest apology for my unspeakable behavior." She said. Valerian's face twitched with what appeared to be a ghost of annoyance. Ada mentally kicked herself as she remembered her heartfelt and entirely fake apology of before. The even look and firm posture disappeared from her.

"Valerian, I've changed." Ada said quietly. "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."
#1054 Old 14th Jan 2008 at 7:19 PM
Default 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. ))
Field Researcher
#1055 Old 14th Jan 2008 at 11:37 PM
Default 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. )))
Test Subject
#1056 Old 15th Jan 2008 at 12:20 AM
Default 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."
Alchemist
#1057 Old 15th Jan 2008 at 12:39 PM
Moira & Valerian - The Haven > Moira - VIP lounge

Experiencing a twinge of admiration mixed with just a hint of envy, Moira could not fail to notice the instantaneous change in Valerian's mannerisms at her mentioning the painting overhanging the bar: his whole being lit up with delight, the eagerness already lacing his smile all the more obvious. He reminded Moira of a child's overjoyed expression when receiving praise from the eldest family member, but so much more profound than that. No artist, particularly those of Toreador blood, could remain indifferent where their work was concerned; some simply hid it better than others.

There was no indication however that Valerian wished to hide his enthusiasm from her, on the contrary. His artistic fervor permeated his being so much brighter than the pale aura revealed by Moira's Auspex; it burned hotly, consuming her jaded and whitered soul with its intensity, tempting her to simply sit back and bask in it, and reminisce on times long past when she herself had felt something akin to it.

"Thank you. 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."

Intensified by Valerian's description of the painting, the lure of contemplation momentarily overtook Moira's senses, and her gaze found its way towards the canvas, where it rested for a few instants, appraising and admiring it at the same time. All around her, the thumping clamor of the club was muted and the lights brightened, banishing any obstacles that stood between the Toreador and the object of her admiration. Of course, the music had remained just as loud as ever and the encompassing dimness persisted, but Moira's enhanced senses reached beyond them.

“Not decoration” she said quietly yet without hesitation, confident Valerian would hear her. “Definition.”

The revelation had dawned upon her even as the words formed on her lips; the painting, depicting the wintry, pre-dawn landscape shrouded in shadows which sent a chill into the viewer's soul was a window to the exterior, the very thing which gave definition to a haven, the shelter one would seek to escape such a place, all the more relevant to a Kindred given the imminent sunrise and the ever lurking threat of nefarious shadows, shadows that had found their way into the very sketch she had penned the previous morning. Moira did not know whether any of this had been Valerian's intention at all, or whether the composition was the result of an inspirational spur, but it didn't matter; it was just as vivid.

"Oh, that reminds me", Valerian 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?"

Tearing her gaze away from the painting and back to its creator, a soft smile graced Moira's glossed lips: that was a most welcome invitation. She would have liked to see more of his paintings, and form a better, more conclusive opinion, when a sudden intrusion postponed those plans. A young blond girl, probably a ghoul or trusted employee, approached Valerian with a simple statement:

"Ada's outside."

The words meant nothing to Moira, a stranger to this city, but obviously carried quite a lot of interest for Valerian, who dispatched the girl with a message to this Ada: that he would see her as soon as possible.

"I'm afraid I may have a situation on my hands", he told Moira apologetically. "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."

Having been Primogen for a few decades, and beforehand a Whip, Moira wasn't accustomed to being dismissed in that fashion without as much as an explanation. Of course, in London, she had the prerogative of demanding one; in Los Angeles she was a guest, not concerned by it. She was not annoyed with Valerian; her mild irritation was mostly directed at this Ada, whoever she was, for her awful timing and lack of courtesy when deciding to summon Valerian away regardless whether he was busy or not. However, that feeling was dismissed briefly, Moira-the Politician replacing Moira-the Artist with the ease of centuries of alternating between these two facets of her personality. Her pleasant smile and relaxed demeanor had not changed, but there was a definite more impersonal, business-like aura surrounding her. Valerian might have had a matter more pressing than discussing art on his hands and Moira's analytical mind accepted that far easier than her creativity-starved soul.

“Of course.” she nodded congenially and followed Valerian through a doorway marked VIP, away from the clamor of music and voices. “I hope it is nothing serious, this situation of yours. I too would like to continue our conversation, as well as have a look at your latest painting; the one I have seen has made quite an impression on me.”

Once alone in the quiet lounge, Moira sat back into one of the soft plush chairs, examining the room and the books stashed onto the nearby table to pass the time.

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
Alchemist
#1058 Old 15th Jan 2008 at 5:07 PM
((ooc: sorry about the double post, but it would've been way too huge otherwise))

Aeode and Jessica - the Haven


"Annie. That's such a pretty name, common but pretty. Not to worry, mine's just the same. Let's start over."

Aeode was beginning to unwind and place all worries and disquieting thoughts firmly behind her; she chuckled at the Lady in Pink's comment, her shoulders bobbing lightly with each bout of mirth.

“Yeah, my parents – nice people, not the most imaginative” she said as someone else approached and requested a glass of beer. Aeode quickly granted it, thinking idly how odd, yet habitual it was for her to give a false name to all whom she met. Her true name was in ways stranger to her than this pseudonym, and at the same time whenever she thought of uttering it, something always held her back. Caution, perhaps, or even fear?

"Hello Annie, I'm Jessica."

Silence, deafening silence, then an almighty rumble which ravaged her insides, as though her very world had been shaken from its foundations and was tumbling down around her. Aeode's stomach felt oddly immaterial, having vanished the moment the name Jessica had reached her ears. She was afraid to move, lest she discovered her knees were truly as paralyzed as they felt that moment: she had no strength for that: all of it, all of her willpower was poured into an attempt to keep a casual expression on her face as she reached out a cold hand to clasp Jessica's long fingers:

“Nice to meet you.” she managed at last, privately surprised her voice had contained only the slightest of quivers. When skin touched skin, a wave of memory came unbidden to Aeode's mind, and her eyes glazed over for an instant before it was dispelled and the sounds of her surroundings returned in full force: she had seen the shadowy figure again, bent close over her sprawled figure, so near yet so frustratingly out of reach, same scene she had been re-living on and on again. But this time there was more: she remembered...warmth. A warm, life-giving, immeasurably sweet sensation coursing down her throat and throughout her dying body.

Stifling a gasp, Aeode released Jessica's hand, mind reeling: glimpses of that particular memory had intruded into her consciousness before, but never quite as vivid, and equally maddening for she had no indication what it all meant. A shrill alarm signaled the arrival of a text message on her phone, Aeode never having been more grateful to whoever had sent it and given her a plausible cover for her reaction.

“Excuse me,” she told Jessica with an apologetic smile and retrieved the phone from her pocket, flipping it open. Steadying her shaky fingers, Aeode opened the message, noticing the sender was Dez. It contained but a few words:

“Found something. Will pick you up after work. - Dez

Aeode however did not stop to wonder what precisely he had found, nor did she immediately put the phone away. Instead, flipping through the menus while pretending to type, she managed to snap one picture of the woman seated before her: it was dark and of rather poor quality given the fact that Aeode's phone was older, but the features were there, translated in pixels, stored for later use. She stared at it for a second and pocketed the phone once again.

What that later use was, Aeode had no idea...yet. It felt insane; she felt insane by even doing such a thing. Just because she had met a woman named Jessica meant nothing; there could have been hundreds of Jessicas in LA. And even if by some unfathomable chance she had happened to stumble upon the very Jessica Andre had spoken of, what did she expect to discover with just a photo? She did not know. All she knew was that she needed to try.

“Sorry about that, it was my boyfriend” Aeode said in her best unconcerned tone, which she hardly needed to fake anymore. She felt far calmer, storing the issue for later discussion with Dez. She already chided herself for loosing her composure so easily and without any real reason. Truth be said, she itched to know what his discovery was and show him hers. “Looks like I've got myself a ride home. Buut...you probably aren't interested in all that.” she added with a non-nonsensical chuckle. Of course she wouldn't be interested in a stranger's private messages, but it served as a smooth transition from an delicate situation to more solid ground.

“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.”

A sly smile raised Aeode's upper lip as she finished her question, a good indication she wasn't truly serious, but not lying either. As long as conversation flowed and Jessica wasn't reminded of her awkward moment earlier, she was ready to discuss anything.

((ooc: don't worry about the picture, she won't do anything drastic, at least not yet and without discussion. I just needed something clear for her to really start her little private investigation ;] ))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
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#1059 Old 15th Jan 2008 at 7:55 PM
Default 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. )))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Inventor
#1060 Old 15th Jan 2008 at 8:18 PM
Default Ada Von Vita - Valerian's Chambers
"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."

Ada stood very still, trying to hide the brief ripple of shock. Of course, her apology had been most sincere, but a small part of her had still expected the same cold reception as before. She nodded her head slightly towards him, allowing a small smile to cross her crimson lips.

"Thank you for accepting my apology. I know you're probably busy, but can I trouble you for a moment longer?" She asked hesitantly, her eyes tracing the pattern of the carpet in shame. " I understand that I am most likely still not welcome at The Haven, but is there any possibility of me being granted access at some point in the future?"
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#1061 Old 15th Jan 2008 at 10:21 PM
Default 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?"

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Inventor
#1062 Old 16th Jan 2008 at 12:53 AM
"Well...", Valerian started vaguely, and trying 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."

Ada stood very still, unsure of how to to react. Valerian seemed almost to be toying with her. She tried to paint her face into the picture of blank, emotionless stone; while inside she prayed silently that she would be allowed back into The Haven. Valerian paused for a moment, seeming to debate what he was about to say.

"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?"

A relieved smile crept through Ada's stony exterior as she nodded gratefully towards him; she knew many others would not be as forgiving as he had been. "I understand, thank you Valerian." She said, bowing respectfully towards him. "I will let you get back to more important matters now. Which door would you prefer I exit through?"
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#1063 Old 16th Jan 2008 at 4:06 PM
Default 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."

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Inventor
#1064 Old 16th Jan 2008 at 7:59 PM
Default Ada Von Vita - The Haven
"I would say that depends on where you intend to go. You are free to use whichever one you find the most convenient."

Ada smiled, nodding towards Valerian again and exiting through the door from his quarters leading into The Haven.
Ada smiled in ecstasy as she was welcomed by the familiar smells and sights of The Haven. The sweet scent of blood mingled with the sharp tang of sweat and alcohol as she crept gracefully down the stairs, disappearing into the crowd of moving bodies.
Out on the streets Ada had gotten many disapproving looks for her black T-shirt, ripped jeans, long leather coat and heavy boots; inside though she blended into the crowd immediately. Bobbing slightly in time with the music, Ada pushed her way to the bar, taking a moment to admire the Gothic beauty of the new painting over the bar; Valerian's work no doubt. She settled herself on a bar stool next a woman in a pink dress, her back turned towards Ada. She was busy talking to a red-haired woman behind the bar. Sighing deeply in contentment, Ada leaned back against the bar. It had been a long time since she had been able to enjoy the thrill of The Haven, and she made a mental promise to be very careful that she did nothing to ruin it again.
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#1065 Old 17th Jan 2008 at 1:46 AM
Default 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.)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Alchemist
#1066 Old 17th Jan 2008 at 7:27 PM
Moira and Valerian - The Haven

Alone in the room shrouded in silence and having nothing better to do for the time being than to examine her surroundings, Moira allowed her senses to run wild. As it turned out, much like the club and its charismatic owner, this private spot concealed subtleties that went beyond a first impression. For example, the blending of comfortable and utilitarian: the secluded lounge with its lavish sofas bathed in soft amber light which first attracted any visitor's gaze also included a tidy desk and file cabinets, suggesting the space was used for more than comfort, and also reinforced Moira's initial opinion that there might have been a second owner. It simply didn't match Valerian's style.

The London Primogen's nimble fingers caressed the smoothness of the sofa lovingly, enjoying the feeling against her skin; if she closed her eyes and distanced herself from the immediate distractions buzzing in her ears, Moira could almost perceive a second dimension, one laden with rich and vibrant emotion. It sent a tingling shiver down her spine, akin to static electricity; a Toreador was not limited to five senses to explore the world; no, they possessed something of a sixth one, the ability to recall past events and the associated emotions through touch and contemplation, a skill refined by age and experience. They were brief, thrilling glimpses carrying the very essence of the feelings coursing through past inhabitants of a certain place, at a given time. If she listened close enough, Moira could all but perceive a multitude of murmurs tugging at the ether that separated them, inducing a sensation not unlike human goosebumps; the room had a definite emotionally-charged vibe, a throbbing one even. Perhaps it was a place where lovers met to share tenderness, or Kindred partook in the equally intimate exchange of vitae.

Whichever the case was, Moira was forced to abandoned her musings by Valerian's sudden re-appearance. Enraptured by the spectacle her heightened senses provided, she had only noticed him when his footsteps signaled his approach. Normally, Moira would not have permitted herself to lower her defenses in a stranger's domain, yet she had sensed no threat from the moment she had set foot inside the Haven.

"Back. My sincerest apologies for keeping you waiting, 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."

Moira straightened herself, placing both palms upon her knees, a wave of coppery curls cascading down her shoulders. A knowledgeable smile touched her lips, carrying understanding and just a hint of mischievousness.

“No apologies needed” she answered, gazing intently at Valerian. As before, she sensed no hidden purpose in him; in fact, she found his openness slightly disconcerting – it was so unlike most Kindred, who generally forged plans within plans and held a thousand different faces on show. She was no different; Valerian, however, was; perhaps it was his age, or perhaps he was one of the very fortunate who saw no need for dissimulation. “A host's duty extends to all their guests. Believe me, I have had my share of duties. And besides, dawn is still far away, we have plenty of time left.”

Thinking how vividly he reminded her of a prowling black panther, Moira's gaze followed Valerian's movements across the room as he approached the spot where she still sat expectantly. His magnetic aura was almost palpable, reminiscent of her brief intrusions into the room's past, or rather those glimpses were reminiscent of it, of him.

"Are you free to be whisked away to my studio, or has the couch persuaded you stay in it's embrace a little while longer?"

Soft laughter fluttered on Moira's lips at these words; he had a peculiar way of talking, but it suited him like a velvet glove. Most young Toreador who adopted lavish vocabularies made the words sound over-inflated and full of self importance, but in Valerian's case, it was all part of his charm. Thinking she had by then guessed the reason for the emotionally charged vibes that permeated the air around them, Moira was for a brief instant tempted to motion him to sit besides her and test that theory, but the walls she had built around herself permitted no such thing. Not then, not with a stranger; as amiable as Valerian seemed, Toreadors were the world's most skilled actors, and Moira was caution personified even when she seemed reckless.

“As inviting as the couch might be, nothing would warm me better than seeing a kindred artist's work, especially after having had such a promising first sample of it” Moira said at last and stood up. “I suppose it appeals to me more than other forms of expression because I, too, am a painter.”

Moira had been on the brink of saying that she too had been a painter, but dismissed the thought. She was one still, even though she grew more and more disillusioned with her art.

“Lead the way.”

((ooc: Thanks! It was a spur of the moment, I'm glad it matched your own ideas))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
#1067 Old 18th Jan 2008 at 4:37 PM
Default 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.))
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#1068 Old 18th Jan 2008 at 7:55 PM
(((ooc: Ghanima - Will have a reply up in a few hours. Need to make dinner first. )))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Test Subject
#1069 Old 18th Jan 2008 at 9:25 PM
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))
Field Researcher
#1070 Old 19th Jan 2008 at 1:53 AM
Default 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. )))
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#1071 Old 19th Jan 2008 at 2:03 AM
Default 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.)))

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Test Subject
#1072 Old 19th Jan 2008 at 6:19 PM
Default 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.))
#1073 Old 19th Jan 2008 at 7:42 PM
Default 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."
Retired Moderator
retired moderator
#1074 Old 19th Jan 2008 at 11:44 PM
Default 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."

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Alchemist
#1075 Old 20th Jan 2008 at 5:48 PM
Moira and Valerian - The Haven, Valerian's Studio

One hand resting lightly on Valerian's arm, Moira and her new acquaintance left the lounge and its multitude of fading whispers behind, their soft footsteps echoing down the corridor. They crossed the distance in silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts, a tingling sensation of anticipation surging through them both, for different reasons.

With one push of an arm, the door swung aside, admitting Moira and Valerian into a dark chamber smelling of drying paint and freshly plucked lilies, the two distinctly different scents mingling wildly in Moira's nostrils; as the lounge had been laden with sensual memories, the studio glowed with creative ardor that permeated it like a narcotic. Even though she had been expecting it, the sensation came to Moira as a shock, blending rapidly with a sharp stab of envy: how dead and empty her own studio always felt by comparison!

All of a sudden, they were showered in bright electric light, banishing the shadows which clung to them in a fashion almost uncanny, and both Valerian and Moira's eyes rested upon a canvas drying in the middle of the room. Encouraged by her host's eager smile, the London Primogen approached the painting, taking small, pronounced steps that brought her close enough to examine each detail while still being able to see the composition as a whole.

The painting was dominated by the likeness of a woman with jet black hair, swirling around her head like some mythical gorgons. Her alabaster skin appeared to glow from within, contrasting with the brooding shadows that churned and boiled in the background. The longer she stared at them, the higher they appeared to billow, ready to engulf the delicate frame in their midst and the very world itself.

"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."

“I have felt it too,” Moira replied almost before Valerian's voice had faded into silence, her voice bearing tones of stark certainty. “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.”

None among Kindred were as sensitive to the subtle changes in their world as the Toreador, with the exception perhaps of the Malkavian whose madness-induced insight reached deeper than many of their saner kin gave them credit for. As it happened, each Clan translated those disquieting glimpses the way they knew best: the Malkavian reflected them through the shattered mirror of their insanity, and the Toreador integrated them in their art.

“A visual poem”, Moira added appreciatively as her keen eyes discerned the subtle verses Valerian's brush had etched in the background, shifting in and out of focus with every move she made. So, the young Toreador's skill did not lay in painting alone. “An interesting choice for a composition with such distinctive protagonists: 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?”

Given the theme and timing, Moira could hardly have expected otherwise; recollecting her own sketch which contained the same shadowy threat in different form, as well as certain discussions had back in England that concerned things rather more serious than artistic metaphors.

She pivoted on her heel, piercing Valerian's with her gaze; his words were unsettling for the very reason that it was not the first time she had heard someone utter them; the looming threat of an unknown darkness had unsettled many Kindred in England, who predicted an apocalyptic return of their ancient forefathers and pinpointed signs that the Final Nights were upon them.

“You say it feels almost prophetic...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.” Moira laughed briefly and grimly, before softening her lips into a curved smile: “That is to say, I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Forgive me, I sound so grim”, the Toreador added, lowering her smoky eyelids in a more light hearted flutter. “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.”

An uncharacteristic warmth permeated Moira's voice as she uttered those final sentences, surpassing any well-played act of pleasantry; she felt no longer envious of Valerian's burning creativity, only glad to be in its presence and enjoy its fruits. Her lavender-hued eyes twinkled in the light, immeasurably sad, filled with the weight and burden of five centuries, a rare glimpse into Moira's jaded soul which her Muse had abandoned a night long ago in Venice.

((Aeode coming tomorrow))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
 
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