A Hazy Shade of Winter - Fourth Floor

[ArcaneDesperado]

                    The Fourth Floor of the QG Club 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                            

[Hannah Lane]

Samantha Gonzalez was too far out of her league, for now. The Toreador Primogen was firmly settled in Baltimore Camarilla power structure and had no real need for a relationship with one such as Elizabeth. If any relationship could be worked out, the Malkavian for sure to be the junior partner. The one currying for compliments or whatever scraps of favour the other might choose to drop. The most successful Kindred worked slow. A nugget of wisdom she’d heard from a friend in Toronto. And slow she would be. For becoming Primogen, she was far too young (although it never too early for cultivating good relationships with her fellow clan members, a future Primogen needed the supper of her clan after all). Becoming a Harpy was, she believed, more within her reach. Not now, not yet, but certainly in the not too distant future.

 

So Samantha was out. That meant Alandra Stien.

 

“How do you do, Ms. Stien. Tonight is a welcome reprieve from the cold winter nights, wouldn’t you say?”

 

‘Cold winter nights’ might mean either violent Sabbat-infested nights that someone should be doing something about, or just chilly and dreary evenings that seemed to go on forever. It depended on the type of conversation a listener was interested in.

[ArcaneDesperado]

Alandra looked up from the journal sized book she had in one of her hands. A glass of the bloodwine had sat idly out to her side in the other. A bit of a loud thump echoed from the journal as she closed it, turning slightly in her chair to give Liz her full attention now.  The Harpy's tone seemed a bit bored and indifferent to the idea.  

 

I would say it remains to be determined until the night plays out a bit further. But I am a bit hard to please when it comes to these things. Personally this whole thing is mostly a farce for public relations.  Bread and circuses 

 

The Harpy looked past the Malkavian for a moment over to the Prince that was involved in conversation with several others. She then glanced at the half drunk glass, and poured it in a nearby plant by her chair without much of a second thought. 

 

I prefer a nice warm body, mixed with a nice merlot, more direct from the tap if it were.  This... well its party wine.  Its made in bulk.  Bleck. 

 

Ms Stien sat the now empty glass on the table returning her gaze to Liz. Her tone shifting to a bit more mischievous. 

 

I might duck out of here early and find a club that's still open despite the weather.    

 

---

 

 

[Hannah Lane]

Bread and circuses indeed. And a Harpy like you lives off that particular bread.

 

“Perhaps the Prince has some entertainment scheduled for later. He can be surprising at times. Or perhaps O’Neil will take out his guitar.” Elizabeth’s tone was half-way between sarcasm and genuine interest. “But as you say, for many tonight is more about getting a head start on tomorrow’s dealing than about genuine socializing.”

 

The soil seemed to drawn in the blood eagerly. The Malkavian herself would never waste blood so carelessly. Every drop of blood, even cold and dead, would put a few more bars in the cage around the mind voices. Every blood was a little more peace of mind and a little less distraction. You didn’t throw that to the mud.

 

“Mahiki is nearby. I hear the singer Rihanna is visiting tonight, so it’s likely to packed, snow or no snow.” Elizabeth knew these things because she liked to go clubbing as well. Nightclubs were dens of blood and pounding music, two things she enjoyed a great deal.

 

Club Mahiki was named after the Polynesian path to the underworld. The inside was decorated in a Polynesian and Tiki theme with rum as the beverage of choice. The club lays just off The Hill, near Rolf’s Country and was well known to occasionally host celebrity clientele. It had attracted media attention as it spent a few months as the a haunt of English royals including Princes William and Harry and regularly sees celebrities like Lady Gaga. Despite that, its founder, Piers Wilson, once quoted that fat, bald, ugly, stupid or old, everyone can get in. Except when the sun’s down, then it gets pretty difficult.  There was no dress code and the club prided itself on its egalitarian policy. The prices, however, kept it from being truly that, but at least an effort was made. As a result, the club drifted in the space between worlds, where middle class rubbed elbows with upper class.
 

“One of the bouncers is a woman.” The Malkavian offered with a smile. “I say that’s a sign of sensible management.”

[ArcaneDesperado]

Alandra scoffed a bit, running a hand back through her hair. 

 

Female bouncers only serve the purpose of avoiding a law suit from female clientele. If that's how you are defining sensible, then I guess that's fine. 

 

The Toreador's attitude was less than interested. Though the problem seemed rooted in something far more complex than Liz and her attempt to speak with her.  The Harpy waved her hand a bit. 

 

Look.  Its not you.  This whole FARCE however tonight.  I am just not in the mood for a SHAM of reverie.  

 

A few of the words raised in tone and seemed to be hurled across the room without concern of being heard by certain other positions of power. 

 

Even the Prince's own childe refuses to show. Even he sees this as a WASTE of time and resources. 

 

A few heads seemed to be looking more in the direction of the Harpy and Liz now. 

[Hannah Lane]

They were all looking. Perretta, Potts, Gonzalez, … even the Prince himself. Of course they were. How could they not, with the choice words Alandra was shooting off. It felt like a huge spotlight had suddenly been turned on the pair.

 

“What’s wrong?” The Malkavian’s voice was a half-whisper, hoping to induce the other woman to lower hers. Alandra wouldn’t be willing to show her frustration openly in this kind of company unless she felt there was more to gain than to lose from it. something significant must be going on.

 

“What makes you say it’s a sham? And what are you saying about Corbin?”

Edited September 13, 2022 by Hannah Lane (see edit history)

[ArcaneDesperado]

The Harpy seemed to stir more as if a declaration of war had just been issued for her.  She smiled, but her eyes seemed to burn with a twisted lust for violence. 

 

Oh, Please....please...ask it again.. LOUDER  Ask him directly.  Ask the dear PRINCE... about his DARLING boy.  What he's been HIDING.  Hoping the drums of war would keep prying eyes from noticing. That the distraction of dead Kindred bodies both Camarilla and Sabbat would hide the DIRTY LITTLE SECRET. Maybe even the problem would remove itself. So to keep HIS hands and conscience CLEAN.   

 

The Toreador stood up from her chair, which seemed to cause just about every other Kindred in the room to follow suit or ready themselves to do so. 

[Hannah Lane]

Oh, dear mother of God!

 

Elizabeth felt like sinking beneath the floorboards, away from here, away from the screaming Toreador flinging wild accusations at her elders. In the space of a few seconds, the evening went from delightfully productive to dangerously embarrassing.

 

Bloody pull yourself together, woman!

 

The first instinct was to remain in her seat, making sure everyone saw the other woman stand up on alone, avoiding the spotlight a little bit at least. Most of the Kindred looking on wouldn’t get the full picture of whatever was going on here anyway. They’d just see Alandra Stien making a spectacle of herself, with Elizabeth Marshall right beside her. They’d add two and two together and decide the ladies both must be causing a scene. And Malkavians loved those, didn’t they.

 

The next was to fix the situation. Elizabeth had invested too much into a relationship with the Toreador to not make at least a token effort. It wouldn’t do to let Alandra destroy her own social capital like this. Stien was the stepping stone to Gonzalez, who in turn could one night help cement Elizabeth’s status as a Harpy.

 

And was that the Beast I saw swimming in her eyes?

 

The small form of Elizabeth veered up next to Stien. “Calm down, Alandra,” she stage-whispered. “Please. Whatever it is you are hoping to do, this isn’t the way.”

[ArcaneDesperado]

The Harpy shot a look over to Liz and then the others. A rush of crushing awe almost seemed to pulse through the room as the Woman of the Rose clan threw her Presence out like a tidal wave crashing against the walls. 

 

Oh I've been calm for years. I'm done!  Suzanne is dead or potentially something worse.  They know it wasnt Belladonna or Bistri's packs.  They want to pass the Sabbat blame to hide their sins!

 

Abigail was the first to move towards the raging Toreador. It wasn't aggressive though. At least not yet. The Harpy's aura was swirling like a invisible whirlwind. Potts kept her hands up towards her with her slow approach, palms facing Stien. Her cocky accent that she tried to suppress was thicker than normal. The situation having her not focusing on it.  

 

Cor' blimey...I am upset about Suzanne too, Alandra but this isnt the bleedin' time or the bleedin' place for this outburst.  We can go on about this better in a more private location. 

 

The Degenerate narrowed her eyes a bit at Potts. 

 

So I can become another convenient victim of the Sabbat's alleged attacks on the way home?  You were her friend....her blood is just as much on your hands.  Blue Blooded bitch pretender... 

 

Abigail seemed to recoil and take a step back.  

 

[Hannah Lane]

The look Alandra gave her could strip paint from the walls, and then some. Elizabeth flinched back as if stung.

 

At once Alandra Stien filled the entire world. It was impossible not to look at her, impossible to think of doing so, impossible to even want it. Furious beauty radiated out turning everything else small and grey. Potts scrambled towards Stien looking like a colorless mouse next to a goddess. All sound seemed muted as if coming from faraway speakers, the music, the murmur in the back, the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. The Toreador’s presence took it all away.

 

Slowly Elizabeth inched back closer to the bar, away from the Harpy. It wouldn’t do to stay close to the center of attention. Older vampires would now step in, tempers would flare, and the Malkavian wanted none of it.

Edited September 20, 2022 by Hannah Lane (see edit history)

[ArcaneDesperado]

I've had just about enough of this crap from you Alandra!

 

The Prince had finally spoken and moved forward, his own Awe rushing forward and suddenly it was like two freight trains smashing into each other.  His voice was loud and booming. A thunderous storm cloud of fury.  

 

I will not tolerate this tone or such allegations.  Your position be damned. I am still the Prince of Baltimore... 

 

Suddenly the tense situation and raging scene was interrupted by the ding of the elevator on the other side of the room.  Corbin would step out into the room. His well pressed suit splatted with blood, like he's just danced through a plasma fueled sprinkler.  A pillow case hung at his side in his right hand. The fabric soaked in crimson as well and dripping heavily.  Beside him in the elevator was the young Bohagande Vampire Choir Seo-Yeon.  She on the other hand was free of any sort of visible carnage, with the exception of maybe a droplet or two that had painted her boots from the sack of gore next to her.  

 

Corbin stepped out a bit further into the room.  A wide smile taking over his face.  He stretched his hands out to his sides still holding the pillow case.  

 

I have arrived!  Hold the applauses!  The party can actually begin now you debauchee low-lifes.   Oh!  And I come bearing gifts for the Lord of the party! 

 

He spun the bag a bit and hurled it through the air so it came and landed on the table directly in front of Belmont.  The glasses of bloodwine flew in various directions and shattered over the floor.  The bag landed with a wet thump on the table.  

 

OW! 

 

The scream of discomfort resonating from the bag. 

Edited September 17, 2022 by ArcaneDesperado (see edit history)

[UTasteSoSo]

Benji made his way from the stair well a few minutes after Corbin's arrival. He took note of those that were already there and of the surprise that the prince's childer had just deposited on table. He did see a few women, some he new to be of the rose and others he had yet to meet. The ones he knew were all Suzanne's people. They had been kind enough to him then, it remained to be seen if they would keep that same tone with him now that she was away.

 

 

[Nordal]

Before, on the 3rd floor

The Lady politely smiles to the Italian man and places her hand on his arm generously offered. 

 

"It seems that the Prince's child carries a bloddied pillow case. Then he managed to hit Cassimir. The first floor is filled with Casimir Vitae from loosing his lower jaw after the attack." 

 

She casually described the scene to Carlo while making their way up to the fourth floor. 

Why is she reluctant to adapt to the 21st century? I don't think she can explain it herself, but Carlo's company was soothing; non judgmental. 

 

They arrived just a moment after Benji. Sipping at her drink, she observes the scene, trying to hold any comment for herself, for now. 

[TheRealSife]

Carlo Luciano

---

As lady Egerton elegantly summarizes the carnage that had occurred on the first floor, Carlo responds in kind with as much elegance as he can muster.

"Wh-huh?!" he says.

 

Despite his surprise at the turn of events, the truth of the matter is soon revealed as they arrive on the fourth floor. The prince's childe stands with Cate the Bohagande on one side, the prince and his closest hangers on stand on the other, and a blood soaked pillow case lies between them. The tension in the room is wound so tight it seems likely snap at the slightest provocation.

 

Slowly a grin creeps onto Carlo's face.

'Oh, this is too good,' he thinks.

[Hannah Lane]

As soon as the lift doors opened, the acrid meaty scent of blood emanating from the pillow case rushed out to fill the room. The bludgeoning arrogance that stuck to the man inside the lift stepped out with it.

 

Corbin!

 

Elizabeth’s nose wrinkled as if she’d smelled something distasteful and maybe it wasn’t the bag. She wasn’t sure what was going on here, but it was clear the party was over, the event ruined and every Kindred’s chance to make new relationships along with it. For that she was more than willing to blame whichever Kindred had gone and spoilt it. Like Alandra Stien, like the Prince’s tediously theatrical offspring, like Cate apparently, … The train of thought crashed when the bag hit the floor, and yelped.

 

Oh bloody hell. Something inside is alive!

Edited September 19, 2022 by Hannah Lane (see edit history)