Masquerade: Midsummer Nights (Apply in OOC)

[Imperialisium]

Jonah Slaid's Home
John Korvinus

The two cracks of the .30-06 rounds hitting the ground inches from hit feet, and ricocheting off into the night, caused John to step back and tense. Fluidly pulling his P30L pistol and training it on Jonah instinctively. No more rounds came John's way however. Only the words from Jonah's mouth. John looked the man up and down. However, it was the aura about him that caused John a momentary pause. It was one he recognized. The Mask. The man before him was a Changeling like himself. Though his aura possessed more glamour than John's did. He was a tall man, John could easily tell that despite the elevation difference, and muscular. No doubt the brutish figure Rodrigo had gasped about before he put that Ventrue out of his misery.

"Careful. Wouldn't want to wake the neighbors." As if on cue a couple lights had flickered on from nearby neighbor' homes. No doubt aroused from the snap cracks of the rifle fire. John slowly lowered his piece so that his body hid it from anyone who could potentially be watching. John looked Slaid in the eye, "Saw your work at Glassel Park. Quite a mess to clean up. Have a few questions for you. Changeling." Aye, John knew perfectly clear what Jonah was, and it wasn't purely human anymore.

[Parcia]

Parlay at the Shack

This caught his eye and for a moment, his finger itched on the Garand's trigger. Downing the last of the Blue ribbon and crunched the can in his hand. Making sure to check his landing zone, he slid off the small roof and landed on the ground with a thud. He readied the Rifle in his hands, keeping it in both hands and able to raise it as needed.

He sniffed the air around him, taking note. "You don't smell like your kin...I mean, same species at least, but a different...Family? Brood? Hmmm.." He eyed the man down, Squaring up with the man and his nice suit and tie, to Jonah's Boxers and white tea shirt. "And if you were a greaser, like the one's I iced in Glassal Park, you would be lighting me up right now. But you smell...different, perhaps...similar to my self. You smell like Fortuna."

He Shifted on his feet. "Well, you have question's, you want to stand out here in the dark while I'm in my undies with my rifle, or go and talk about it inside?'

[Imperialisium]

Parlay at the Shack
John Korvinus

John watched Slaid down the beer, toss it, then slide off the roof with a dull thud as he impacted the ground. He was even larger on level ground. His words confirmed what he was to John and so the Changeling hitman felt a bit more ease knowing exactly what was before him. "We're both of Arcadia and Earth now Jonah. Fortuna is the realm you were in. I was in another. There is no going back to being who we where either." At that John nodded, following Slaid in to his home with his pistol lowered, if the towering Changeling before him was not going to be threatening by keeping his rifle lowered in a ready position. Instead of pointing it at John the whole time. Then he might as well return the courtesy of not having his pistol pointed at Jonah either.

Entering the Shack was much to be expected. It was spartanly furnished. The furnishing's were probably just holdovers with what came with the lease no doubt. For they were old and outdated. John shut the door behind him. But keeping his eyes on Slaid. Speaking as the door clicked shut, "My employer, Prince Angelos, she pretty much runs the city behind closed doors. Head of the Camarilla here, if you know what that is?" John was testing Jonah's knowledge base right now. To see how aware he was of the powers that be in the city.

[Luminesa]

Alexei had knocked on the door of the bishop's apartment for only a few minutes when he responded. He stood and stared at the kindly old man for a moment, and then he nodded respectfully to him. "Hello, Bishop Verio. Good evening. I...I need to speak to you privately, if you would not mind...I need to make a confession, and..."

Mikhailov scoffed behind him, and walked over beside him. He did not have as much respect for authorities, though he maintained a civil presence next to Alexei. "...Your Holiness, I doubt Alexei is truly sorry for his sins. I would suggest you-GAH!"

The Inquisitor wasted no time elbowing the Mage in the stomach, knocking him back a couple of feet. He then turned back toward the Bishop. "...As he said, I would...like to make a confession. I have been excommunicated...by the Inquisition...and I need to at least be allowed back into my Church...If it is possible, Your Excellency...even at this late hour..." He gulped, knowing very well the Bishop might reject his request. Yet he did not know to whom he might be able to turn to otherwise.

Behind him, Mikhailov simply waited. If Alexei went into the confessional, he would be alone in the Church once again. He only hoped that Silvanus was not somehow following him. He needed just a moment more to be alone, to think. His eyes darkened with thought, as something else in his mind captured his attention, but he did not indicate what that something might be.

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

House of the Crouching Tiger

The House of the Crouching Tiger was a squat building of four storeys. Apartments on the top and an oriental themed restaurant on the bottom. It was almost stereotypical looking. A petite Asian woman of Japanese ethnicity smiled, gave a slight bow in her kimono, and pointed to Li Tian to enter and take a left. All around her wait staff fetched plates, took special orders for those not wishing to have the all you can eat buffet, and hibachi chefs performed displays of culinary proficiency. Mortal humans ate, laughed, and unwittingly gave their money to an establishment run by the Kuei-jin. It was an almost perfectly comical cover if one thought about it.

Li Tian moved along the busy aisles between booths and a Chinese man in a black suit appeared by a door and locked eyes with her. Opening the door and waving her to enter. She walked through and found her self in the kitchen. The suited man behind her said, "Follow me," as he walked around her and led her up some narrow stairs. Down a hall way full of apartments to another set of wider stairs ornamented with Asian lanterns and characters etched in gold leaf along the fine oak railing. Moving up the steps she found herself on the fourth floor in a wide room. In a semi-circle a group of five individuals in traditional clothing sat on cushions. Two women and three men. All Kuei-jin. The women had fans that hid the lower half of their faces. The men wore tall hats in typical Chinese Imperial garb. As if they had been pulled out of 19th Century Imperial China and transported to Los Angeles. The lighting and decorations matched their clothing. Around them a series of Kuei-jin attendants and personnel congregated.

"We have been expecting you Li Tian." said the Male in the center facing Li Tian. "I am Niohuru Wailan of the Devil's Tigers. Now, speak so that we may get to know you."

Li Tian
House of Crouching Tiger

Li Tian was escorted to the table of the meeting where she would meet with the rest of the Kuei-Jin of the Los Angeles. They...probably not American-born, or at the very least accommodated to the life and culture of America, but it would be useless even then. Not many American-based Kuei Jin that she knew and even if she knew, she probably wouldn't contact them more than she would contact the non-Americans. In front of her, one of them spoke up, recognizing her name and told of his name, Niohoru Wailan of the Devil's Tigers. Perhaps it is only a virtue to tell of her alignment.

"I am Li Tian of the Jade Court of Chang'an, it is a pleasure to meet with you. I am here on the official business of myself as well as in the interest of Kuei-Jin, if you would be so kind to accept the interest. If you are not, it will be fine as well. Lately, through my channels of the mortals, I have the information that a group of Crusaders, a Catholic hunter organization of some sort, the Crusaders itself is not their true name. Something about Society of Leopold, which hunt down the Garou and the vampires. While I am very normal and not feeling anything odd with their hunt, it is what they do after the hunt. It is apparent that Leopold itself is eager to hunt down the non-mortals, and that's not leaving the vampires, the American vampires, who are eager to take the territories of mine and of yours. I've seen small movements, but not outright attempts," she continued.

"What I propose is an alliance, a pact, of some sort. I don't like the thought of the Leopolds hunting us down, and the vampires encroaching to the territories of mine, and of yours," as she nodded along. "I propose that we combine our...efforts together, to at least, able to hold the vampires to their own ground and perhaps, to eliminate the Leopolds at the same time. That way, we can safely maintain the status quo while at the same time, well, gaining some new territories of our own or we can tell those who don't like us the threats of Devil's Tigers and Jade Court of Chang'an."

"And that is, my proposal."

[Parcia]

Parlay at the Shack
John Korvinus

John watched Slaid down the beer, toss it, then slide off the roof with a dull thud as he impacted the ground. He was even larger on level ground. His words confirmed what he was to John and so the Changeling hitman felt a bit more ease knowing exactly what was before him. "We're both of Arcadia and Earth now Jonah. Fortuna is the realm you were in. I was in another. There is no going back to being who we where either." At that John nodded, following Slaid in to his home with his pistol lowered, if the towering Changeling before him was not going to be threatening by keeping his rifle lowered in a ready position. Instead of pointing it at John the whole time. Then he might as well return the courtesy of not having his pistol pointed at Jonah either.

Entering the Shack was much to be expected. It was spartanly furnished. The furnishing's were probably just holdovers with what came with the lease no doubt. For they were old and outdated. John shut the door behind him. But keeping his eyes on Slaid. Speaking as the door clicked shut, "My employer, Prince Angelos, she pretty much runs the city behind closed doors. Head of the Camarilla here, if you know what that is?" John was testing Jonah's knowledge base right now. To see how aware he was of the powers that be in the city.

He led the man to the sparsely decorated kitchen and flipped the light on. Setting the rifle next to a disassembled MG-42 (more on that later) he pulled up a set of chairs and a pair of beers. Sitting down, he offered the man a blue ribbon as he cracked his own open. Taking a swig, he paused at the mentioning of the Cararilla.

He sighed. "Funny thing about Spanish...pronounced it with a long L until some fuck head in San Antonio corrected me." he took another swig. "Yes, I know what they are...some sort of "shadow" Government, sorta like the Gestapo but...working."

He took another swig. "So, forgive me for cutting to the chase, but why are you here, obviously your aren't here to kill me, don't think it would end well for me, you, and the nice impoverished people in the surrounding homes."

[Imperialisium]

Bishop Amellio Verio


"Of course come in." said the Bishop at Alexei needing to make a confession. It was not formal or exactly to doctrine for a Bishop to give confession outside of the specific area's in the church to do so. But he did have the authority to absolve sins regardless. As Alexei made his way in he continued speaking though the Bishops mood darkened. Taking a seat at his small plain table on the lush carpet decorating the apartment. Verio looked at Alexei seriously for a solid minute before looking down. Deep in contemplation and leaving Alexei in silence. Then abruptly the bishop got up and looked at Alexei with sadness. "I cannot absolve your sins and lift an excommunication from them." Them being the Inquisition and more specifically referring to the Society of Leopold. Given the nature of the Society and the grave task given to them only the Pope himself could reverse any religious ruling they make. Verio was truly sorry as well. The sadness in the old man's eye's were evident as he took a step away from the young man before him.

"Whatever you did my son. I cannot help you. I am sorry." was the Bishops words as he slowly turned and walked away deeper into his apartment. Leaving Alexei to show himself out. Leaving him cast in shadow.

House of the Crouching Tiger

The representatives from the Kuei-jin before Li Tian remained silent as she delivered her proposal. An Alliance with Chang'an, against foreign invaders that had been in the Middle Kingdom for a few hundred years already, well that goes without saying as a matter of course. However, such an alliance did not exist already due to the ethical and ideological differences between many in the Middle Kingdom back in Asia and those wishing to take a more aggressive approach like the Crusaders.

As Li Tian finished her proposal the representatives all looked at Niohuru Wailan of the Devil's Tigers. Niohuru glanced at them all in turn before training his eyes back on Li Tian. "We are in agreement. But I will remind you that Chang'an must claim territories of their own in California. We will be accomodating to aid....yet our territories are our own Li Tian of the Jade Court of Chang'an. Now, do you have anything further to say?"

John Korvinus

Straight to the point. As requested John just cut to the chase. "I was sent to cover up the incident in Glassel Park. My employer would not tolerate a rogue in Los Angeles possibly making more incidents. As such I have come to bring you before her. She could always use another hired gun to get odd jobs done." Odd jobs. Illegal jobs. The jobs normal people only saw in movies and television shows. The kind done by hitmen, arsonists, robbers, and other people that would not fit the category of 'honest folk.'

[Luminesa]

Bishop Amellio Verio


"Of course come in." said the Bishop at Alexei needing to make a confession. It was not formal or exactly to doctrine for a Bishop to give confession outside of the specific area's in the church to do so. But he did have the authority to absolve sins regardless. As Alexei made his way in he continued speaking though the Bishops mood darkened. Taking a seat at his small plain table on the lush carpet decorating the apartment. Verio looked at Alexei seriously for a solid minute before looking down. Deep in contemplation and leaving Alexei in silence. Then abruptly the bishop got up and looked at Alexei with sadness. "I cannot absolve your sins and lift an excommunication from them." Them being the Inquisition and more specifically referring to the Society of Leopold. Given the nature of the Society and the grave task given to them only the Pope himself could reverse any religious ruling they make. Verio was truly sorry as well. The sadness in the old man's eye's were evident as he took a step away from the young man before him.

"Whatever you did my son. I cannot help you. I am sorry." was the Bishops words as he slowly turned and walked away deeper into his apartment. Leaving Alexei to show himself out. Leaving him cast in shadow.

House of the Crouching Tiger

The representatives from the Kuei-jin before Li Tian remained silent as she delivered her proposal. An Alliance with Chang'an, against foreign invaders that had been in the Middle Kingdom for a few hundred years already, well that goes without saying as a matter of course. However, such an alliance did not exist already due to the ethical and ideological differences between many in the Middle Kingdom back in Asia and those wishing to take a more aggressive approach like the Crusaders.

As Li Tian finished her proposal the representatives all looked at Niohuru Wailan of the Devil's Tigers. Niohuru glanced at them all in turn before training his eyes back on Li Tian. "We are in agreement. But I will remind you that Chang'an must claim territories of their own in California. We will be accomodating to aid....yet our territories are our own Li Tian of the Jade Court of Chang'an. Now, do you have anything further to say?"

John Korvinus

Straight to the point. As requested John just cut to the chase. "I was sent to cover up the incident in Glassel Park. My employer would not tolerate a rogue in Los Angeles possibly making more incidents. As such I have come to bring you before her. She could always use another hired gun to get odd jobs done." Odd jobs. Illegal jobs. The jobs normal people only saw in movies and television shows. The kind done by hitmen, arsonists, robbers, and other people that would not fit the category of 'honest folk.'

Alexei entered the room, sat, and waited for Bishop Verio to answer him. Seconds turned into minutes full of trepidation. Sweat dropped down his cheek, and his hands shook. They shook even harder as the bishop gave his answer. He knew the old man did not intend any harm. Yet he could see the light in his eyes. The sadness, the fear. The bishop did not wish to get involved with the Inquisition and their rules. Alexei knew he was in deep danger, and he put a foot in the doorway as the bishop tried to get him to go. "Please, Bishop Verio, I only need to be allowed back into the Church. Please," he begged breathlessly, "there must be somebody who would be willing to hear my confession, if you are unable. This is my only request, send me to someone who will hear my confession. I could die tomorrow and I would be out of the Church's graces, and I cannot die in a state of mortal sin. I must continue my Father's work. Please, Your Excellency, help me!"

Mikhailov only listened as Alexei was turned away quickly by the bishop. He smirked and watched the drama unfold in front of him, but a pang stabbed at his cold heart as he listened to the Inquisitor's pleas. His grin became a frown, and he continued to think. In the meantime, his body began to feel somewhat tired. He had been running on no sleep for the last two days, and while this was not out-of-the-norm for him, he began to wonder if his true age was catching-up with him. Nevertheless, he sat and waited for Alexei. Despite knowing he could remove himself from the situation, and thus very well get out of any possible trouble, something in him wanted to follow his new companion around. More than curiosity, something much darker and more complex. Yet Mikhailov was all too aware of the dark depths of his own soul, and fed that darkness faithfully. For it he would follow Alexei around until morning, or until one of them dropped from exhaustion.

[Parcia]

John and Jonah

"I was sent to cover up the incident in Glassel Park. My employer would not tolerate a rogue in Los Angeles possibly making more incidents. As such I have come to bring you before her. She could always use another hired gun to get odd jobs done." Odd jobs. Illegal jobs. The jobs normal people only saw in movies and television shows. The kind done by hitmen, arsonists, robbers, and other people that would not fit the category of 'honest folk.'


He took another sip of his beer, emptying the can out in a few large swigs. "Sorry if you had to clean up my handy work, thy bleed a hell of a lot more then Krauts ever did.' He took a moment to ponder on is past life.

"If your looking for work, things not really on the legal side of the law, then Sure, I'll do it...as long as it pays well."

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

Li Tian
House of Crouching Tiger

"Yes, of course. We will work on our own to expand our territories beyond what we currently have in Chinatown, perhaps we will expands outside Chinatown to avoids any issues with the Devil's Tigers," Li Tian said. It's reasonable to assume that making expansions in Chinatown is close to danger, whereas expanding outside Chinatown will results in much less Kuei-Jin...and pretty much, much more on the non Kuei-Jin. Including humans. Police. Garou. And the vampires. As Li Tian is about to make her move to outside, she remembered something. Beside, Los Angeles is already big for Li, California is even bigger and unreachable, for now.

"Oh, and if this is possible, we also would like to have an intelligence relationship, that is that Jade Court and Crouching Tiger will be able to share intelligence and information in Los Angeles. Jade Court has enough eyes and ears, but unfortunately we are lacking eyes and ears in the rest of Los Angeles, especially the urban areas," Li Tian finished. "Other than that, I say it is nothing of an issue that we can't handle."

[Imperialisium]

House of the Crouching Tiger

As Li was about to leave the other representatives watched her turn, then return to face them once more, offering up a proposal to share intelligence resources. The representatives once more shared a moment of silence before replying. Again it being the Devil's Tiger representative that would reply to Li. "We will share information in the spirit of cooperation Li Tian. No more, no less, than is necessary." After he replied the Devil's Tiger nodded to one of the suited guards and they looked at Li Tian, gave a shallow bow, and gestured for her to move down the stairs. To make her way out of the building the same way she had come in.

John and Jonah

"The Camarilla and the Prince pay well for services rendered." said John as he half turned, "You can follow me in your car if you want." John led Jonah out of the latter's home and did not wait for him to decide. John got into his own vehicle and turned the key. Bringing the car to life as it gave a low rumble of its engine igniting into action. John peeled away from the curb and roared down the road. He knew the way to Anna's residence, after all he'd been there plenty, and wound through the grid like, concrete jungle, that is Los Angeles with unerring accuracy. Passing by numerous streets, weeving in between the traffic like a shark in a school of fish, even in the dead of night Los Angeles teemed with activity. Clubs played music, bars served drinks, people walked the streets in innocence or vice, and all lit by neon lights.

Eventually the concrete jungle receded and grew more sparse as they passed out of Los Angeles proper and into the Hills and Mountains to the West. Here the rich, the upper class, built their teeming mansions in quiet, gated, expansive estates. Hidden by trees, tropical or otherwise, and hedges kept trim by a small army of groundskeepers serving such affluent neighborhoods. Anna's residence was on the edge of this. On an expansive, luxurious, estate largely hidden from view. Pulling up to the iron gates wrought in the Victorian fashion, they yawned open of their own accord, for the Residence's security knew John already. Allowing him to enter and pull down the fancy stone drive way to pull up infront of a multi-car garage. A garage that could easily fit a dozen cars and even sported a sub-level. John pulled up and got out. Looking at Jonah he walked towards the mansion.

"Couple things Jonah. Do not speak before her, and give a bow as a sign of respect, they're all for the formalities." Jonah was going to take a crash course in Cainite etiquette. Even if his pride irked him about the bowing he could just remind himself that she was the one who could be signing his paychecks. Might as well put on a little show if he could potentially be earning big bucks for jobs right?

John led Jonah up the grey granite cut and smooth finished steps to the large oak doors that swung open at the pull of a door man. The door man was of course a Ghouled human and gestured them in. "Where is the Prince?" asked John. The door man replied, "Holding Presentation in the South Gallery, sir." John nodded in thanks and gestured with a flick of his head for Jonah to follow. The residence was never truly empty. On the couches and sofas in the living rooms Cainites, Ghouls, and humans mingled and moved. It was a complex web of politics, intrigue, and socialization all wrapped up in one. This was the focal point of the Camarilla's governance and society in Los Angeles. The Prince's Court was were anyone, if they were anyone in Cainite society, would be or at least have been too. As such you could find just about every Camarilla clan present in the residence in some form or another. A couple Gangrel's sealing a deal on a patio. A few Ventrue discussing multi-million dollar movements of capital in a living room. A Toreador detailing a new artistic purchase to a Nosferatu who looked like they could care less. Earnestly looking to his compatriots skulking in a study room for aid. Some Brujah dressed in the clothing of the youth or new age grouped together in a hall way talking about the latest trends. A gaggle of Malkavians quickly striding down a hallway out of sight. All talking to each other but also managing to be speaking of entirely different topics at the same time. The Tremere being studious as ever going over the finer details of some archaic literature.

Then they arrived at the South Gallery. Essentially a long rectangular room with a hardwood floor covering approximately 6,000 square feet of space. Big enough to hold proper Balls if need be. But also large enough to effectively hold court and allow numerous others bear witness or socialize. As John entered several heads turned to him before returning to their respective conversations. Even more looked at Slaid with peculiar interest. On the other end of the hall was a raised platform, no doubt used for musicians to play, but in the meantime converted to a raised dais with a heavy wooden, cushioned chair, set in the middle. On it was a tall, curvy but also lithe, woman of striking beauty that no mortal female could match. From her raven black hair which flowed like silk in a long pony tail to her perfect olive skin which showed no sign of age, blemish, or imperfection. Her electric green eyes shown above vermillion lips as she looked at the line of individuals before her. It was tribute. They carried briefcases to actual wooden chests. All where the Prince's cuts of profit from the various enterprises and business under Vampiric influence or control in Los Angeles county. Several suited men, a Ventrue and his childer with some Ghoul assistants, putting several briefcases before her. Opening them up to reveal tightly packed dollar bills.

"Six million dollars as promised from Clan Ventrue's Bank of America assets." The Prince nodded and gave a smile in acceptance. Her reply commended them, "Always prompt, Clan Ventrue, your skills are an asset to the Camarilla as always." the Ventrue and his coterie bowed as they closed the briefcases and handed them off to some attendants. Next a couple of Gangrel shuffled forward and opened up some leather bound boxes displaying checks easily of 50,000 or more apiece. One more the Prince nodded and complimented them. The Gangrel moved on. On and on it went. Then finally a new line formed. This was a special type of Presentation. The bringing forth of new Childer to be judged if they are worthy. This was a rule in the Jus Noctis. Law of the Night. Childer are inevitably brought before the Prince or Elder in the region to be judged if they have proven or are worthy. If they are then they are typically freed from their Sire's purview and entirely responsible for their own affairs from then on. If they fail then they are killed. Obviously John and Jonah could see some of the Childer were undoubtedly nervous. Despite being Vampires they were the closest to Human in the room. So they did the most human of things. One rubbed his palms. Another seemed to get the jitters before stopping at the sharp look of her Sire.

"Step forward. State your name and Childer for the record." said the Prince. The first pair stepped forward. "Roger Anderson, Clan Ventrue, presenting my Childe Alyssa Parrington." Roger and Alyssa bowed. Roger put a hand on her back and ushered her forward as step. She moved forward bowed once more and spoke, "Embraced on November 22nd, 2014, with accredited skills in Mathematics and International Economics." A footman in a black tuxedo stepped forward as Alyssa straightened. Her Sire produced papers that he handed to the attendant. The Attendant examined them and turned to the Prince. Nodding. Stepping back with the papers.

"An astute and concise presentation. Welcome to the Camarilla Ms. Parrington." Alyssa shoulders relaxed and she bowed once more before stepping back. Her sire ushering her away. Next was a trio of Nosferatu. "Archibald de Clere, Clan Nosferatu, presenting Childe Henry Navelle and Mary Ipswich."

John leaned closer to Jonah and whispered, "Normally a vampire may only have one Childe at a time. However, if given permission a sire may embrace multiple people in a short amount of time." John straightened back to normal as the two Nosferatu were accepted and the trio with smiles moved to the side. Several more presentations occured until the back few groups were reached. These were those who were embraced in informal means with their sires having not received formal blessing to do so. Some were accepted like a Brujah sporting a turtle neck and feathered fedora with ripped jeans. Another, also a Brujah, were not and was left wide eye in shock as his sire stepped away like washing his hands of dirt. The childe quickly grabbed and led away by two other Cainites as he craned his neck back at his sire in fright. He would be put to Final Death within the hour and cremated before having his ashes dumped unceremoniusly in some graveyard.

As the Presentations ended and the chime of a bell signaled the next session. Which was a freeform session were anyone could approach, was when John moved forward, taking Jonah with him he moved before the Prince. All eyes looked at John and Jonah. Whispers and gossip began to whirl about the gallery until the Prince spoke. At her voice the room fell dead silent.

"Well, this is a surprise. Care to explain yourself John?" said the Prince in a playful tone. John did not spare Jonah a glance and bowed. Whispering to Jonah to do the same under his breath. Rising up he spoke, "I have next to me a fellow Changeling. In particular the person of interest for the event in Glassel Park earlier this night." Now everyone in the gallery was definitely listening. John continued, "Upon my investigation it seems that the Changeling next to me was caught in the crossfire and should not be blamed for the events that transpired. Further, he possesses skill in fire arms and close quarters combat. The evidence indicates that he managed to kill most if not all the combatants in that fight. Including several of the rogue Ventrue under the treasonous Jakkar." Every Ventrue in the room stared at Jonah. Some despised Jakkar and beamed positively. Others still had mixed feelings on an outsider killing several of their own clan. Traitors or not they were Ventrue. Those bore blank expressions or distaste at the thought of an outsider dealing judgement which should have rightly been reserved for them.

This was expected of course. John nudged Jonah, "Sell yourself." Jonah had seen the presentations and the price of failure. This was a sales pitch with the product being his life. Anna did not move as eyed Jonah like a stone monolith. Even as beautiful as she was many old Vampires could execute total control over their body's to a degree far surpassing mortals or even other races. So as she stared intently it became obvious that she need not breathe, need not blink, and need not move a muscle even involuntarily. She was a statue. As she bore into Jonah's soul and analyzed every inch of his person. She scrutinized every imperfection on his form and yes. She saw him for what he truly was. Her gaze was so piercing that Jonah could even feel her penetrating The Mask and actually seeing him for what he was.

Alexei and the Bishop

The Bishop turned back to the young man and looked at him once more with sadness in his eyes. "There are few who can. Barring an intervention by His Holiness in Rome and the Inquisitor-General. Only a Provincial of the Inquisition can appeal for a reversal of such a sentence." The man turned away once more, "I am sorry my child. But I must sleep and ask you too show yourself out." His tone was polite and kind. But he paid Alexei no more heed as he walked slowly away on elderly legs. Leaving Alexei and Mikhailov alone to their own thoughts. Alexei was in a pickle. Better yet the jar itself with the vinegar slowly pouring in to drown him. Few could offer him salvation for his sins. The only man in California who could do so was Arquart who was the Provincial for California and he probably would not help. After all why should he reverse charges when all evidence points to Alexei being guilty? No, Alexei will have to redeem himself through action and deeds instead of begging for forgiveness. The Inquisition and the Society do not forgive. Nor do they forget easily.

[Luminesa]

The door closed softly in front of Alexei, but it felt like a slam in his heart. Sweat dripped down his face, down his back and sides. He wanted to melt right on the ground. As he was left in the silence, he lowered his face and closed his eyes. A silent prayer rose from his heart. A prayer for courage.

Mikhailov rose from his seat, in the meantime, and approached Alexei. He did not walk too close, knowing that whatever he might wish to say could enrage him and could cause him to attack him again. He was quite surprised, then, to see the young Inquisitor turn toward him with a calm, gentle expression. The Mage had a sarcastic comment ready, but the unexpected response to the rejection caused for him to forget his toxic remark. He could of course see the sweat dripping down his face, and how stiff his body was, but Alexei was determined to reach his goal. “...Hm. Well, it’s roughly 2:30 in the morning. I’m not sure what you want to do, but...morning is going to be here quickly,” he suggested.

Alexei nodded. “I know. That is why we must quickly find a way to Sacramento,” he responded.

The Mage blinked in even more surprise. “...Tonight?...”

“You know very well I may not have tomorrow,” Alexei answered, a haunted tone to his voice, “...a house with no guardian is liable to thieves and to ruin. I must take back my house.”

Mikhailov took a moment to react to such a response, but he snickered as it registered in his mind. “...Heh...you really do sound like Silvanus, in a way.”

Rather than being offended, Alexei smiled knowingly. “...Then perhaps...you should know what is the thief and what is the ruin,” he answered, before walking past him toward the entrance of the church.

“...The thief...and the ruin...” Mikhailov shook his head in confusion. Alexei was definitely hiding more than he let on, and he did not offer an explanation. He wanted the Mage to find the answer himself. Even more confusing, when he turned toward Alexei, the Inquisitor was standing and waiting for him by the doorway of the church. Sure, Mikhailov had wondered what Alexei would do about his fate, and he had spoken that concern, but he had not offered to go with him. Yet now the Inquisitor was waiting for him to join him. He expected it. Somehow he had read into Mikhailov’s mind and had seen how he would react.

Indeed, as soon as he had turned to face Alexei, he held up a hand with a prism of light. “...I have an idea that might work...but we cannot show ourselves to anyone...or we will invoke Paradox,” he explained.

After a moment’s pause, Alexei nodded, his expression still eerily serene. An odd kindness had moved across his face, and he smiled again. He then walked back toward Mikhailov, his steps echoing on the tiles. “...Using Magic within a church does not seem very orthodox...” he suggested.

“I’m the one using it. Now come along and hold onto my arm,” Mikhailov ordered. Alexei wrapped his elbow around the Mage’s arm and waited, and he opened the crystal of light with his free hand. It flowed brightly, in various colors, and then swallowed the two men. The light traveled, in through the realm in which Mikhailov had previously hoped to trap Alexei. Now he was guiding him through the light and heading out of Los Angeles with him...

Seconds later, they landed in Sacramento, in an alleyway next to a Chinese restaurant. The winding streets, the many parks, more skyscrapers, the neon lights, and the crowds of people were all out and about. Mikhailov had never been here, and he took a moment to examine his surroundings as they both stepped out of the alley. Alexei looked around as well, but did not seem as interested in his surroundings. Then again, given his level of stress and exhaustion, that was to be expected. He still held onto Mikhailov’s arm, even after coming through the portal.

“...And no Paradox was invoked! See? We’re safe and sound,” Mikhailov assured Alexei, “so where is the place we’re looking for in this massive city?”

“...Follow me.” Alexei did not give directions or landmarks. He let go of the Mage’s arm, and he began to walk ahead of him. Almost like clockwork, Mikhailov obeyed and ran after him.

“...And what are you going to do when you get to where we are going?”

Another smile. Still kind and sweet, with no hint of poison. Mikhailov noted that his smile did not have the same dark, cold undercurrent that Michael’s held. It was warm and sincere, though a bit tired. Even when he had been threatening him during their first fight, he had never given any indication that he hated Mikhailov, and he did not hate him now. “...Whatever penance the Provisional gives me...It may be difficult for one or for both of us...but I will do as he asks...” he answered.

As they walked through the winding streets, they arrived at the Inquisition’s headquarters. Alexei then walked up to the door, knocked twice, and waited. Mikhailov stood a few feet away, curious. He knew the Inquisitor had a plan, but how was he involved? He would discover an answer soon enough.

[Parcia]

Jonah Slaid
The Bloody Palace

He paused, returning the stunning Women's look and while he could feel her gaze pierce his vary soul, all she would find would be Hellfire.

He sighed, taking a moment to catch a few of the Glimpses from the Vampires he wagered were other Ventrue, based on their glares. "Born in 1918, grew up dirt poor in Florida. When the War rolled out, I enlisted and Joined in 41, passed basic training as well as Infantry Combat school right about the time Pearl Harbor was hit, as soon as I heard the Radio broad cast, I went to my CO and volunteered for the Airborne." He paused, pulling up memories he hadn't gone over in decades. "Shipped up to Fort Jackson for Advanced Training before they shipped me off to Camp Toccoa At Currahee, passed Airborne School in early 43 and was assigned to 403 PIR attached to the 82nd, did 2 Jumps in to Italy in HUSKY and HUSKY II, took a bullet to the side and was treated shortly after. When Neptune came around in 44, I got folded in to the 101st, specifically, the 506th PIR, and dropped in to France." He paused, going back to more memories.

"I never hit the ground. I found my self in a Realm called "Fortuna" under the control of a true Fae we simply called the Ringmaster. Fortuna was essentially a complex of fighting pits and the like were the people taken were forced to fight to the death. I spent what I guess to be 40 years there, never lost a fight, never let a opponent live. I guess I earned the eye of another Fae, who I never really got to know.

One night I fell asleep in my hole of a cell and woke up in what could be described as a literal incarnation of Hell. This Fae told me to reach the other end and I would be free to return to this realm. I spent what was...20 years, I guess? In that realm. Didn't Eat, didn't sleep, just kept fighting and fighting."

I made it out, eventually. Found my self in Kansas, found work there, almost had a semblance of life." He shifted in place, his jacket shifting enough to make his tattoo noticeable. It was a single line of characters in Aramaic that looked more like burnt in to his skin rather then inked. He continued. "I am the type of person who like's what he does. Some one who understand Loyalty, some one who you call when you need some fucker iced with out having your own people involved." He paused again, shifting and reveling even more of the Tattoo in to sight.

It was a pair of words, Hell Walker to those who could read the dead language. "I skilled with most things that spit led, can handle a blade with skill, am fond of explosives and have been told I have a punch that would make Pakiou blush." He returned his Gaze to her, matching her stare with his own. "I understand you might get offers like this every day or so and likely just end up loosing out on that investment." He paused, taking one look around him.

"Well, your bound to have some one here you dislike..."

[Imperialisium]

Sacramento, California
Inquisitorial Headquarters in California

The Inquisitions Headquarters in California was a small mansion in the outer neighborhoods of Sacramento. Its iron fencing wrapped around with a narrow walkway to the double door entrance. Hedges obscured the yard from street views while the occasional palm tree or pine jutted up from the ground to cast long deep shadows. Adding to the darkness of the night and providing niches of shadow shielded from the street lighting. Even this late at night there were several lights on in the modern sandstone colored mansion. Designed in the South-western ranch style. When Alexei knocked a solid minute of silence passed before the door opened several inches. Revealing a man with a leathery, weather worn face, dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks. He was not Arquart. But another Inquisitor and he eyed Alexei warily. "What do you want?"



Camarilla Headquarters in Los Angeles
Anna's Residence
The Prince's Court
Anasztazia Angelos

The Prince's expression did not change as Jonah told his story. His pitch for his life rather. As this was either going to be a one way trip or what allows him to continue operating within the city. So as Jonah continued speaking John remained silent. When he finised the Prince spoke in a flat tone,"I know of the world you speak." She was referencing Arcadia. She kept her eyes locked with his as she continued speaking, "I have received many offers for the completion of various tasks for those seeking boons or forgiveness due to transgressions." She flicked her eyes at John for a moment before returning them to Jonah. "Quite frankly your incident in Glassel Park by our rules puts you in a less than welcome light. As we take any potential breaking of the Masquerade, the rule of not letting greater humanity realize our existence, very seriously. Even if your part in that particular fight was unintentional. However, if the skills you say you possess are true. Then I will let you prove them." She stood up and stepped slowly down to Jonah and John. She was tall for a woman. Jonah was easily much taller. But she walked towards him with total feminine grace. A life to her that did not exist a moment before as she curled her lips into a wry smile. Her eyes no longer possessing the stone like quality they had a moment before. These were the active eyes of a predator.

"Your task will be a simple one. One that will earn your place at this Court. Recent intelligence has reached me of a certain club. The Purple Hearts. It moonlights as a strip club catering to the human vices. It is a cover for a den of Anarch vampires that run the establishment. I want you to send them a message for me. You need to kill some of them. Not all." At the last two words she held up a finger and wagged it slowly. "After you have completed this task you will return to me." Anna flicked her eyes to John once more, "You will go with him. But you will not help him." John nodded. At that the Prince turned around and walked from the room followed by a small group of attendants and servants. The Court proceedings for the night were over.

John looked at Jonah, "Come on I know the address." Turning on his heel John walked from the building with Jonah in tow.

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Connor Mac Domhnaill

It was clear to the pack leader that things weren't going to get lighter soon. The city's Camarilla was well structured, his resources were limited, but a pack of Garou had advantages that the vampires didn't. While their underground knowledge depended on the sneaky Nosferatu, the Garou managed to infiltrate better. It was his pack's ability to float across the dark parts of the city that brought the rumors of Stargazers around Skid Row, a poorer part of LA.

Clearly, the poverty and criminality there provided a safe cover for the calmer Garou that partially departed the Garou Nation to rebuild their territory in the Himalayas and India. However, that was a long term goal, and to accomplish that, they had to be alive, something that Connor could offer, knowing that Stargazers could possibly want some protection to follow their more peaceful ways. Along with Riyoko and Derrick, his long time friend. Searching through the Row, eventually he found a small group of Stargazers, posing as homeless wanderers.

"Good day to all of you. You might be wandering who I am, or how I know that you are my brothers from another tribe but... that's just information I can provide later. See, thing is, I know you are Garou, and that you know other Garou around here. The Camarilla will enter an offensive against their enemies, as they are lead by a strong Prince backed up by a strong Malkavian that already attacked me. We also have reason to believe that Inquisition is in town, as their m.o. could be seen and sensed in the Wolf's Den, sure you heard about the bar that suddenly got torched up.

What I offer is the chance to survive. And the chance to help other Garou to survive through these hard times. I can help you to live through it. So, what do you say? If you don't accept my offer, spread the word. Anything I can do for you in return?"

[Luminesa]

Sacramento, California
Inquisitorial Headquarters in California

The Inquisitions Headquarters in California was a small mansion in the outer neighborhoods of Sacramento. Its iron fencing wrapped around with a narrow walkway to the double door entrance. Hedges obscured the yard from street views while the occasional palm tree or pine jutted up from the ground to cast long deep shadows. Adding to the darkness of the night and providing niches of shadow shielded from the street lighting. Even this late at night there were several lights on in the modern sandstone colored mansion. Designed in the South-western ranch style. When Alexei knocked a solid minute of silence passed before the door opened several inches. Revealing a man with a leathery, weather worn face, dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks. He was not Arquart. But another Inquisitor and he eyed Alexei warily. "What do you want?"



Camarilla Headquarters in Los Angeles
Anna's Residence
The Prince's Court
Anasztazia Angelos

The Prince's expression did not change as Jonah told his story. His pitch for his life rather. As this was either going to be a one way trip or what allows him to continue operating within the city. So as Jonah continued speaking John remained silent. When he finised the Prince spoke in a flat tone,"I know of the world you speak." She was referencing Arcadia. She kept her eyes locked with his as she continued speaking, "I have received many offers for the completion of various tasks for those seeking boons or forgiveness due to transgressions." She flicked her eyes at John for a moment before returning them to Jonah. "Quite frankly your incident in Glassel Park by our rules puts you in a less than welcome light. As we take any potential breaking of the Masquerade, the rule of not letting greater humanity realize our existence, very seriously. Even if your part in that particular fight was unintentional. However, if the skills you say you possess are true. Then I will let you prove them." She stood up and stepped slowly down to Jonah and John. She was tall for a woman. Jonah was easily much taller. But she walked towards him with total feminine grace. A life to her that did not exist a moment before as she curled her lips into a wry smile. Her eyes no longer possessing the stone like quality they had a moment before. These were the active eyes of a predator.

"Your task will be a simple one. One that will earn your place at this Court. Recent intelligence has reached me of a certain club. The Purple Hearts. It moonlights as a strip club catering to the human vices. It is a cover for a den of Anarch vampires that run the establishment. I want you to send them a message for me. You need to kill some of them. Not all." At the last two words she held up a finger and wagged it slowly. "After you have completed this task you will return to me." Anna flicked her eyes to John once more, "You will go with him. But you will not help him." John nodded. At that the Prince turned around and walked from the room followed by a small group of attendants and servants. The Court proceedings for the night were over.

John looked at Jonah, "Come on I know the address." Turning on his heel John walked from the building with Jonah in tow.

Of course Arquart would not come directly to the door. Alexei and Mikhailov waited patiently as seconds turned into a minute. The former did not move, except to pull up his collar against the cold. He looked rather non-threatening, in a pink cashmere overcoat, and as Mikhailov stood behind him he seemed to think the same. How could someone so innocent in appearance be so threatening? Yet he could not answer this question in the open. As soon as he heard footsteps, he hid behind a nearby bush and listened. Until he knew what Alexei wanted to do, it was best for him to keep out of sight.

Alexei in the meantime looked calmly up at the man and held his ground. "My name is Alexei Bancroft. I am an Inquisitor, and I must speak directly to the Provinicial. Please, I will not take much of your time. I will do whatever he asks if you allow me in. It...it is a personal matter, very urgent." He only faltered once, but his soft voice never wavered. He knew what he wanted, and he would not leave before he got what he wanted. For a moment, Mikhailov thought he saw Alexei move his foot toward the door, so he could keep the man from closing the door in his face. He did not, out of curiosity and obedience, yet he would not accept any fate except being allowed back into the Church.

[Parcia]

-stuffs-

Jonah Slaid

He held her gaze as she got off her little throne, taking notice of the way she moved, like a Lioness that had trapped her prey. For the first time in a long time, he felt something inside. Something he hadn't felt since the days in Fortuna. It wasn't fear, fear having had been beaten out of him long, long ago. Respect Her Presence demanded respect.

He would curl his own lips in to a smile, returning her gaze. "As you wish." He would bite his pride and bow, before turning to John. "I have to go get a few things before we hit this club."

The Shack, some minuets later

By the time he arrived home, he found a small package at his door and was actually happy. He got inside, inviting John inside and offering him a chair. Sitting down, he pulled out his kukuri to slice the package open.

Doing so, he retrieved a black hard case and set it down on the table. While keeping his eyes on the box, thumbing the small combination lock that kept it sealed, he spoke. "Made a friend in Texas, god Do I love that state, who runs a not so legal arms dealing business. Helped him out with one of his pretty little Daughters when her deadbeat boy friend decided to get smashed and smack her around, poor kid still hasn't walked straight. Anywho, he agreed to not only give me a discount, he found a way to mail these things legally."

He retrieved a brown leather holster, an old fashion gunslinger one that hung just below your hip with a ring of holes for extra shells around the belt it self. He also brought out a box of 250 "Shredder" shells. A special type of round that broke in to multiple pointed ends shaped in to a cone. He also drew, taking care to dust the weapon off, a Smith and Wesson Model 29, 6 inch barrel with a black metal finish and cherry wood grips. Engraved in gold on the Revolver was the words Attero Dominatus along it's barrel, as well as the emblem of the 101st in a ornate crest on the grips, covering the screw hole for them.

"God damn do I love Texas."


Fitting the holster to his waste, surprised it fit, he loaded 6 shells in to the gun, holstered it, and went about placing a shell in to each slot. Next, he went about gathering a few other things, a Ithica Model 37 shotgun, a stake out model with a pistol grip (loaded with slugs, of course) a pair of black, 9-bang flash grenades, and, after some thought, an old welding mask he had found in the garage when he moved in.

He grabbed his vest, the bullet holes having been patched, and slit it on. It was a special one he had made for his bulkier build. It was big enough to fit 2 level IV plates in the front, one level IV plate in the back, and 4 layers of silk laden Kevlar on each side. He fitted the .45, his old side arm from the war, to its shoulder holster underneath his right arm, choosing to, if he needing to draw it, to do so with his off hand.

Setting the shotgun in to a bag, as with his Uzi and a good amount of ammo as well as the flash bangs, he threw on hos black trench coat and secured his gear on his belt.

He then went to the fridge, pulled some hogee roles and cold cuts, and made him a sandwitch. He got halfway through tearing in to a salami/peperoni sandwitch when he though of John.

"You want some?" he awaited his reply and went on. "So tell me about this place, want to know what Im dealing with here, especially these "Anarchists".

[Imperialisium]

Skid Row, Los Angeles
Stargazers in LA

The Stargazers, which despite being loners and the like, naturally gravitated to each other in the concrete jungle of Los Angeles. They did not have much in terms of organization, just contact with one another, and the ones confronted by Connor simply looked at him as he spoke. They where aware of the Camarilla closing in. If anything it added to the depressing nature that they found themselves in. A few looked at each other and nodded to Connor. "We will spread the word. Our kind do not obey others except out of necessity. But we can read the writing on the wall so to speak." The few that got up were followed by others. From the shadows even more Garou in their human forms walked out into view.


The Stargazers surrounded Connor and his small party. "Smells like a Fianna." said and older Stargazer with a fully grey beard. Scars on his face noted the hard, loner, life that they largely led. "He is Garou nonetheless. Skid Row is as unnatural to us. You've said it before Robert. We need to return to the rural lands beyond this urban hell." said a female Garou next to him. The Garou carried a dozen conversations around Connor. Speaking to each other as a community rather than a traditional pack hierarchy. The older Garou just nodded in agreement. It took roughly fifteen minutes for a consensus to be reached as the whispering conversations continued.

"We will fight alongside you against common enemies." said the older Garou. "But do not think for a moment we are servants." The Garou around Connor nodded slowly at these words.

Sacramento, California
Inquisitorial Headquarters in California

"No you're not. Mr. Bancroft." said the older man at the door to Alexei matter-of-fact. It was so cut and dry that it left an awkward silence for a couple minutes. But it was technically true, and evidently the censor's report had reached back to Headquarters already, so the man continued to look at Alexei and continued, "The Provincial is sleeping. I will not wake him on the supposed urgency of an apostate." Apostate. Adding insult to injury for poor Alexei. Salt on the wound would be another way to put it. The older man shut the door on Alexei's face unceremoniously. Evidently the talking your way in was not going to work.


John Korvinus

John traveled back to Jonah's shack and watched with silent amusement at the glee the ogre Changeling before him showed in receiving his package. Opening it and revealing the weapon inside. It was a beautiful weapon. The man before him clearly admired his firearms. John however preferred to keep himself reserved in that department. Always in the garb of a consummate professional. So he watched in his black and white suit with two pistols holstered on his belt. At the offering of food John realized that he was indeed hungry. The whole concept of spending a lot of time awake at night clearly clashed with the concept of three square meals a day.

"Sure I'll take sandwich."

Then the question came on the Anarchs. Or as Jonah mistakingly phrased as Anarchists. Though the terminology was wrong he was more or less accurate on what they were. John leaned back on the counter and folded his arms before speaking.

"The Anarchs are the Sect of Cainites who despise the traditional workings of vampire society. To give a brief history there has been two revolts by the younger Cainites of the day against their older counterparts. First time led to the creation of the Camarilla and Sabbat. Second time the Free State centered in California and neighboring territories. But that's falling apart now courtesy to Camarilla and Sabbat pressure. Anarchs are only loyal to themselves and to the group they align themselves with. Usually whatever gang or ideological group they proscripe too. Only allying together against a common enemy. Luckily for us the vast majority of them are higher generation vampires. Easier to kill and keep them dead."

[Luminesa]

Apostate. The word burned in Alexei’s chest, in his stomach. He wanted to rush forward and to keep him from closing the door in his face, but yet another door was closed in his face. He jolted as the door slammed, and then he stood still. He bowed his head slowly, and stood with his head that way for a few more moments. He could not exactly go to anyone else, save for the Pope, to lift his excommunication, and he would not go home without his punishment lifted. Yet at the same time, he hugged his arms and stood looking cold and vulnerable.

Mikhailov slowly stepped out from behind the bushes. This time, he walked up to Alexei, and examined his face. He was still and almost unreadable, except for the dazed, tired eyes. A thousand years reflected in his gaze, which seemed to stare into some unknown reality in front of him. Now Mikhailov decided to play the part of a comforter. He put a hand on Alexei’s shoulder, and then softly moved it across his back to his neck. “...Hey,” he spoke quietly, “we can come back later and try, if you wish...”

The caress had an odd effect on Alexei. His eyes widened, and his pale face became a light pink. He gave the slightest shudder, as though he was afraid. His eyes came to life, both with fear and...something else.

“...Alexei?...” Mikhailov noticed his gentle face becoming just slightly animated from his touch. The devious part of him cackled-he had seen Alexei’s expression when he had threatened to make him stay at his apartment alone. He knew his weakness was loneliness. Now he knew affection was another one.

Yet also in Alexei’s eyes was a sort of mystical glow. He had come to a decision, and he was prepared to try it. With his face still powder-pink, he turned his gaze to Mikhailov. “...You will help me...” he whispered.

“...Wh-Wha? How?”

“...It will hurt...but everything will be explained when we are finished...” All the while, Alexei smiled at him and continued to blush. He then closed his eyes to pray, trying to draw forth power. “...That dimension of light you made...let’s go back there...” he requested.

Mikhailov stared at him. “...You’re not going to throw me through another window, are you?...”

“...No. But I will need to perform an Act of Faith. Something to show them I am willing to obey the Inquisition...” he answered.

The Mage thought for a moment, and then smirked. “So you’re planning to beat me up and turn me in?...Heh...” He leaned against the gate and put a finger on his chin. His eyes turned up toward the moon, and one could see the dastardly intent on his face. Yet Alexei did not seem to care, and approached him. “...I have a better idea...You know what you do best, yes?...”

“...I hunt...” Alexei answered softly.

“Yes.” Mikhailov crept another hand toward him and put it on his shoulder. “And there’s plenty of hunting we can do back in Los Angeles. Of the Camarilla’s enemies...Get right with the Prince and with your Inquisition, all at once. What do you think?...”

Alexei’s blush came back. He watched the smile on Mikhailov’s face carefully, and nodded. “The Anarchs...”

“Right! Good. Now. If you’re not too tired, we can go back to LA and maybe sneak into some place, find some vampires, and bring them here by morning...It’ll be fun...” he whispered, trying to infect Alexei with his excitement. He liked toying with the Inquisitor, and seeing the innocent sparkle in his eyes when he was shown affection. He made sure his voice was calm and gentle. He stood in a relaxed way. Don’t think I don’t see you looking back at me...I’m not foolish...What are you thinking about, seeing me like this?... he thought.

Alexei nodded to Mikhailov. “...Then let’s go back...” he answered.

Without another word, Mikhailov created a portal back to LA, and they left the headquarters behind them in the darkness.

[Imperialisium]

The Coven of the Purple Hearts

The Coven of the Purple Hearts was located in the South-Central Los Angeles area. A couple miles West of the main Interstate arterials running North-South from Downtown Los Angeles to the various Southern districts, often dubbed the Gateway to the Pacific due to the city boroughs forming a rough corridor from Downtown to the various Southern dockyards and neighborhoods there. Other towns in Los Angeles County lined both sides of the districts however, and as such if one did not know where the city perimeter ended they would not even notice if they left The City of Los Angeles proper. As almost the entire County except for some affluent areas and preserves had been turned into a vast conglomeration of urbanite sprawl.

The Strip Club itself was a squat one-storey structure of brown rick and segmented brown roofing. A neon sign blared out the clubs name accompanied by an equally vibrantly glowing female figuring in a seductive position of sitting with hair swept back and nude. Entering the club you'd see the bar to the opposite side of the doors and along the entire Western side of the building. Tables and booths dotted the large central entertainment room. Poles, dance cages, and stages surrounded by clusters of tables and booths. A section on the North side for booths allowing for private dances ended next to the management office and kitchen entrance. While on the opposite side, Southern wall, one will see a private party room. In reality the private party room and booths allowed for the five female Cainites running the place to feed in private. They also never killed their victims. Simply using their vampiric powers and the orgasmic experience of the kiss to feed. Licking the wound to cause it to heal as if it never happened. Before letting them leave minus a pint of blood and some cash.

But that was not all for the staff. Several other dancers were ghouled along with several bulky guards that watched the entrance on both sides of the doors. One behind the bar. A couple near the managment office. One watching the surveillance cameras. And the rest around the central entertainment room.


Right now it was currently 3AM and the establishment was cleaning out. Patrons leaving in a steady stream until there was no one but the staff left. Darlene, the 'manager' of the Purple Hearts and coterie leader sat in her office tapping her manicured nails on the plain brown faux-wood plastic desk. Her deal with Mortimer and the Blood Claws gave hope of staving off or even driving the Camarilla away. But she knew it was a deal with the devil. That is what bothered her. Pentex was trading one demon for another in regards to the Prince of Los Angeles closing in night by night.

[Luminesa]

Alexei was almost definitely out of his element as he stepped alongside Mikhailov toward the club. He stared at the figure in the window, and then peeked inside. He was immediately uncomfortable, as he saw all of the dancers and the crowd of patrons inside. It was just about 2:30 when they arrived, thirty minutes to closing time. They could have chosen to come at another time to hunt, Alexei did not wish to wait. Even so, he gulped and stayed next to Mikhailov.

Mikhailov himself was not exactly excited about going into a club. He had little to no interest in strippers, or in anyone who was not supernatural. The average drooling patron had nothing to offer him, and was only another mind he could easily manipulate. Then again, Alexei had a rather strong will, and yet all it had taken to push him along was a gentle caress of his shoulder. Few people can rise above their basic human desires, it seems...Even those who claim to be holy... he thought, with a slight smirk. As Alexei huddled closer to him, however, he put a hand on his shoulder and stared into his eyes. "Follow my lead. We'll need to be fast, and we'll need to be quiet. If you get a headache from the music you can wait outside the backdoor," he instructed.

With a nod, Alexei followed him inside. The sweltering heat of the bodies caused for him to take off his coat and to sling it over his arm. The smells of drugs, of sweat, and of various food and drink mixed in his nose and almost made him dizzy. He turned his eyes away from the dancers, while at the same time trying to sense any vampires or ghouls that might be around. I have to find them...before they try to find me...After all, even if I am not an Inquisitor anymore...I still have Faith... he thought. He then turned back toward Mikhailov, his ears hurting. "How do you hear yourself think in here?" he asked.

The Mage chuckled. "You're not supposed to hear yourself think. You're supposed to drink and watch the dancers. You don't exactly come to a place like this to talk angelology," he answered, with a knowing grin toward Alexei. Deep down, he took pride in what he saw as his own strength against temptation. Sure, Silvanus could exploit his deepest, darkest flaws if he wanted, but Silvanus was not in the room. He was with his far more naive and meek protege. "...Now then, do you sense anything?"

The Inquisitor turned and looked around the room. He caught a glimpse of the dancers spinning up and down the poles, and writhing in the cages, but he did not sense any presences there. He walked around the room, while Mikhailov decided to try and make sure that they blended in. While Alexei stood in the middle of the room, he walked to the bar and got the two of them a drink-a Cosmopolitan for Mikhailov and a Mai Tai for Alexei. He handed it to his friend and commented, "You'll fit-in a little if you have a drink. I promise it's not drugged."

Alexei took a sip, and his face turned pink. When he saw Mikhailov snickering at him, he commented softly, "I...I'm sorry I've...never had alcohol before..."

"Ever? Heh, I don't blame you, it's overrated. But you'll look like an undercover cop if you don't drink a little," the Mage commented.

After taking a sip, the Inquisitor handed the Mage his glass and looked toward one of the private rooms. "...There's...people in there..."

"People?"

"...You know..." Alexei turned and looked over his shoulder at Mikhailov. "The people we're looking for."

The Mage nodded with understanding. "Again. Follow my lead. You go wait out back if you don't feel right. I'll bring a couple out for you," he repeated.

He hesitated for a moment. Yet after a second's thought, he nodded and agreed. "...Very well..." He then walked outside and waited, out in the cold silence, alone. He shuddered in the cold, and put his jacket back on. The music still beat in his head, and he closed his eyes.

In the meantime, Mikhailov went to go buy a private room. He did not exactly enjoy handing over the money for the service, but some part of him did want to help Alexei. He also knew the Masquerade would be put at risk if Alexei was to approach one of the vampires. Make this quick and bloodless. Bring her a drink, drag her out the backdoor, have Alexei kill it, and we're done... he planned.

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Skid Row, Los Angeles
Stargazers in LA

The Stargazers, which despite being loners and the like, naturally gravitated to each other in the concrete jungle of Los Angeles. They did not have much in terms of organization, just contact with one another, and the ones confronted by Connor simply looked at him as he spoke. They where aware of the Camarilla closing in. If anything it added to the depressing nature that they found themselves in. A few looked at each other and nodded to Connor. "We will spread the word. Our kind do not obey others except out of necessity. But we can read the writing on the wall so to speak." The few that got up were followed by others. From the shadows even more Garou in their human forms walked out into view.


The Stargazers surrounded Connor and his small party. "Smells like a Fianna." said and older Stargazer with a fully grey beard. Scars on his face noted the hard, loner, life that they largely led. "He is Garou nonetheless. Skid Row is as unnatural to us. You've said it before Robert. We need to return to the rural lands beyond this urban hell." said a female Garou next to him. The Garou carried a dozen conversations around Connor. Speaking to each other as a community rather than a traditional pack hierarchy. The older Garou just nodded in agreement. It took roughly fifteen minutes for a consensus to be reached as the whispering conversations continued.

"We will fight alongside you against common enemies." said the older Garou. "But do not think for a moment we are servants." The Garou around Connor nodded slowly at these words.

Connor Mac Domhnaill
Stargazers in LA

"I never considered you as servants. I am not a bloody snob. You are my brothers and sisters, and this is why I am here. If I need your help, I will let you know and if you need my help, you will let me know. That's a simple agreement. And yes, if my lovely accent from Éire didn't give up my tribe, my words will. Yes, I am a Fiann.

All I ask of you is simple: Soon as you settle yourselves in a distant area, send someone to tell me where you are, this way we can establish a line of communication and work in coordinated moves. I believe that isn't too much to ask of you."

His tone differed from the usual angry or happy shouting that he often employed around the town. He spoke normally, as if trying to weave a firm deal with the Stargazers. He couldn't waste all the resources at one front only, so he needed to construct alliances with closer allies, even if they differed in the way they saw the world.

[Imperialisium]

The Coven of the Purple Hearts

Against the steady stream of people leaving, Mikhailov and Alexei entered the establishment, and moved into the central space. Truth betold they were a bit less than circumspect about things. Their awkwardness was painfully obvious to the dancers, vampire or ghoul, as they passed each other or caught glimpses. When Alexei left to wait outside Mikhailov moved to the private rooms and, evidently, did not know how a strip club worked. Handing it to the dancer closest to the private booths she smiled and said, "Right this way sugar." Her deep red lipstick and olive skin with bleach blonde hair bobbed slightly as she spun around and opened one of the booth doors. Letting Mikhailov shuffle right in.


Mikhailov sat down on the comfy chair and the dancer went to work. Shaking her hips, ass, and grinding upon him. Showing her flexibility by spinning about and positioning herself in ways that no doubt required a fair amount if physical strength and stamina to not break a sweat. The first thing Mikhailov would feel is that she was warm to the touch. Shouldn't vampires be cold on account of not generating any body heat? That was a yes and no question. Biologically they should. But Vampires can unconsciously or consciously have parts of their bodies function like normal humans. Such as generating body heat or activating their vestigial digestive system to eat human foods. To better blend in among mortal society; or, for the cynical among us. Better blend in with their prey.


Skid Row, Los Angeles
Stargazers in LA

One might pause to wonder why the Stargazers of all Garou were deep in Los Angeles. The answer to that question is a historical one in that this particular community had been pushed out of the countryside by other supernatural pressures. Naely unfriendly Changelings and Gangrel vampires over the course of several decades. Gradually pushing the original members of this community, and thus trapping their descendants, in the urbanite expanse of Los Angeles.

As Connor finished speaking the older Stargazer handed him an old flip phone. It was a burner phone. Hard to track for obvious reasons of not wanting anyone potentially listening to easily triangulate their position. "There is one number inside, call it, it'll reach me and we will come when needed. We were planning to use it to set up a rally point if we ever lost Skid Row. But quite frankly I think I speak for all in that we'd rather leave here as soon as possible." Connor now had a direct communications link with the Stargazers for his Fianna pack.

[Luminesa]

The Coven of the Purple Hearts

Against the steady stream of people leaving, Mikhailov and Alexei entered the establishment, and moved into the central space. Truth betold they were a bit less than circumspect about things. Their awkwardness was painfully obvious to the dancers, vampire or ghoul, as they passed each other or caught glimpses. When Alexei left to wait outside Mikhailov moved to the private rooms and, evidently, did not know how a strip club worked. Handing it to the dancer closest to the private booths she smiled and said, "Right this way sugar." Her deep red lipstick and olive skin with bleach blonde hair bobbed slightly as she spun around and opened one of the booth doors. Letting Mikhailov shuffle right in.


Mikhailov sat down on the comfy chair and the dancer went to work. Shaking her hips, ass, and grinding upon him. Showing her flexibility by spinning about and positioning herself in ways that no doubt required a fair amount if physical strength and stamina to not break a sweat. The first thing Mikhailov would feel is that she was warm to the touch. Shouldn't vampires be cold on account of not generating any body heat? That was a yes and no question. Biologically they should. But Vampires can unconsciously or consciously have parts of their bodies function like normal humans. Such as generating body heat or activating their vestigial digestive system to eat human foods. To better blend in among mortal society; or, for the cynical among us. Better blend in with their prey.


Skid Row, Los Angeles
Stargazers in LA

One might pause to wonder why the Stargazers of all Garou were deep in Los Angeles. The answer to that question is a historical one in that this particular community had been pushed out of the countryside by other supernatural pressures. Naely unfriendly Changelings and Gangrel vampires over the course of several decades. Gradually pushing the original members of this community, and thus trapping their descendants, in the urbanite expanse of Los Angeles.

As Connor finished speaking the older Stargazer handed him an old flip phone. It was a burner phone. Hard to track for obvious reasons of not wanting anyone potentially listening to easily triangulate their position. "There is one number inside, call it, it'll reach me and we will come when needed. We were planning to use it to set up a rally point if we ever lost Skid Row. But quite frankly I think I speak for all in that we'd rather leave here as soon as possible." Connor now had a direct communications link with the Stargazers for his Fianna pack.

Mikhailov sat in the room and watched, less-than-amused inside. Sure, the dancer was pretty, and she knew what she was doing to make most men drool. She had the look, she spoke the right way, and if he had been less concerned about his mission, he may have fallen for it a little bit. He took a sip of his drink, smirking as he thought about Alexei waiting outside. Heh. Funny how the little saint immediately runs for it when he has to do the dirty work to get his sainthood back. Ah but he has a patient teacher...I’ll show him how dirty work is done...

He took off his glasses and gloves, and unbuttoned the top of his collar, giving the impression that he was either hot or getting in the mood. “You know, sweetheart, you can come a little closer if you want. It’s just the two of us, and I’m what you might call a magic man,” he flirted with a chuckle, changing his tone just slightly so as to get her attention. To add to the occasion, he remembered he still had cologne on. If the dancer got close, she would smell the faint scent of citrus, coconut, and a sea breeze. He made himself look relaxed. Carefree. Romantic, even.

Of course, deep down, he felt nothing for her. But he knew what would get her attention. Or at least he hoped he did. The mission needed to be quiet and quick. He hoped he would not have to do anything too drastic, and he kept the sweet, inviting smile on his face. Of course, as he now had his gloves off, he showed that he had forgotten what he was wearing underneath the gloves.

A diamond ring.

***

Outside Alexei continued to wait, very uncomfortable. He pulled up his collar, and then played with it occasionally, as though he was expecting for something to attack his throat. If someone looked close, he was pink in the face, and not from the cold. Something was on his mind. I have thrown someone into scandal hoping for my own salvation...I hope...we will be forgiven... He closed his eyes and continued to pray, holding his clasped hands close to his mouth and nose to keep them warm.

[Xah]

Lleidr
LAX
Los Angeles

Lleidr checked her passport and then her reflection in some glass to make sure the two matched as she walked towards customs and immigration. Personally, she hated flying like the Sleepers did, it was far easier to cajole a high level Magistos, or travel the long way as an animal than it was to get on these aluminium tubes of Quiescence where magic was all but impossible. However, needs must and all that, master Magistos weren't always willing, or able, and sometimes it paid to arrive in a city without a fanfare. For what she was here for, the more under the radar she could stay, the better.

The border guard in the booth glanced between the passport and Lleidr a few times. "Your purpose in the United States, Miss... Tamagoka?" he asked in a bored voice.

"Business and pleasure," Lleidr replied with a twinkle in her eye, just enough to sow flirtatious seeds in the man's mind. It had the desired effect and the man smiled.

"Welcome to the United States," he droned, waving her past.

She made sure to smile winningly as she passed and headed for the exit, keeping her head down. Luggage was for those with actual possessions, and Lleidr hadn't really owned anything for years. Hand luggage was enough to carry the few items required to pass in Sleeper society; anything else could be obtained through... other means. Once out on the street she looked around in case the Mysterium had been so good to organise a ride for her, but, as usual, the book nerds back in the UK had forgotten, either to tell anyone she was coming, or to arrange something else.

It was Lleidr's first time in LA, although not her first time in the United States. It was Miss Tamagoka's first time however, and she'd made the effort to look suitably business-like. Trouser suit, look cut top, immaculate haircut and a leather bag all screamed corporate. The effort of maintaining it wasn't overly difficult, the benefits of Fate, but it would be good to get into something more loose. Lleidr didn't get the office look, even if it did open doors and get taxis, like now, as a man who'd just managed to get himself a cab found himself offering it to the dark haired Asian woman. "Thank you, you're a star," Lleidr said with a smile and closed the door once she was in, leaving the man with no hint that she was offering anything in return.

She checked her bag for the address of the 'safe house' that she' been told was Mysterium owned and should be empty. Oh nice. Figured it'd be near the university.

"Bel Air please," Lleidr said to the taxi driver, rattling off the rest of the address. "And I'm tired, so no chatter please."

Whatever the taxi driver was about to say, or thought in his head, Lleidr didn't care. She closed her eyes as the vehicle pulled off, and let her mage sight extend out, checking for glimpses of anything unusual. So far so good. Belying what she'd just said to the driver, she banished her weariness with a silent rote, something she'd be using for years, the hand gestures looking to anyone else like brushing dirt off her clothes, then watched the city pass by.

The house was, as expected, very nice and she paid the driver with a nice tip on top for his silence. As she approached the gate, it opened up. Time to meet the locals and see what was up. They might know why she was here, but she doubted it, but she carried a letter of authority, and that was often enough.