Masquerade: Midsummer Nights (Apply in OOC)

[True Christopia]

Loretta

Agreeing with Mikhailov, Loretta nodded. A selective few did indeed always hold the reins of power. But Loretta was not one inclined to pass away, such as he had described.

Watching as he finally demonstrated some of what he had said, Loretta's seemingly stone-cold, unfazed face almost immediately shattered - the charade of indifference or perhaps mild interest falling away as Mikhailov suddenly quadrupled into multiple different forms, all spread out and talking to him.

"Fottimi, that's brilliant!" he exclaimed, grinning like a mad-man for the first time in years, despite the blade at his neck. A Toreador? Seemed to describe him, and he did like the supposed abilities he was talking about.

"So how do I do it, then? How do I do these things?"

[Luminesa]

Loretta

Agreeing with Mikhailov, Loretta nodded. A selective few did indeed always hold the reins of power. But Loretta was not one inclined to pass away, such as he had described.

Watching as he finally demonstrated some of what he had said, Loretta's seemingly stone-cold, unfazed face almost immediately shattered - the charade of indifference or perhaps mild interest falling away as Mikhailov suddenly quadrupled into multiple different forms, all spread out and talking to him.

"Fottimi, that's brilliant!" he exclaimed, grinning like a mad-man for the first time in years, despite the blade at his neck. A Toreador? Seemed to describe him, and he did like the supposed abilities he was talking about.

"So how do I do it, then? How do I do these things?"

“...My Magic is my own, and unfortunately I cannot teach you my own secrets. However...I can teach you to use yours,” Mikhailov answered, smiling as he saw Loretta’s face aglow with excitement. “But first we need to acquaint you with your...family, shall we say?...After all, you’re not alone anymore. So you might as well get to know your connections. And the Prince could tell you even more information than I can,” he explained. He then summoned another shard of light, but instead of shattering it to pieces, he expanded it merely by staring at it. A few seconds passed, and the shard became a massive vortex of light, tall enough for each of the men to fit. The Mage stepped toward it, and looked back at the mobster. “...Follow me,” He beckoned, before he walked through the portal.

When he and Loretta appeared on the other side, they would be right outside Anna’s residence. Mikhailov was used to the building, and to its glamorous appearance. The Hollywood Hills around them, of course, were also glittering and magnificent around them. All of the riches and style would certainly spark a light in Loretta’s eyes, and he turned to study the man’s reaction. “...I am sure you are very familiar with riches and splendor, Loretta? The Prince...and your family, as well...has plenty of both to give. Unfortunately...it seems she has yet to arrive...” He searched around their surroundings for a second, and frowned. Seeing that it was evening now, however, he shrugged. “...Oh well. We will have to wait a few minutes. Once she arrives, however, be careful to give your utmost respect. I will do the talking,” he instructed.

[Imperialisium]

Anna's Residence
Security Suite

The magical wards of Anna's Residence had picked up Mikhailov's vortex before the duo had even arrived. Medorna watched the vortex warily as security guards trained weapons in it's general direction. Only relaxing when he gave the all clear order over the communications network once the two had been identified.

Ronaldo Medorna, one of the senior ghouls in Anna's employ ever since bothering to take up a home in California, and rising to one of her chief security officers once the very same home became the seat of the Camarilla in Los Angeles following the events of Bloody New Year's. Ronaldo was biologically fifty-eight years of age, flecks of grey in his stubby beard and peppering his black hair, brown eyes above slight bags. He often spent long hours working. Not that his employer didn't handsomely reward him for his services. After all ten years ago Medorna was able to pay for his two daughters and son's college tuition in a single payment even while being estranged from his former wife. This former wife would look much older than Medorna. For he was a ghoul. The ravages of time held back buy little vials of Kindred vitae given to him monthly. Indeed, for despite his biological age he was chronologically closing on seventy-five years of age.

Ronaldo pressed a small blue button before a microphone piece, "Medorna to Kai. The Magician Mikhailov has returned, unannounced I might add, and with a guest." Kai's reply was about as full of sarcasm as a joyous Englishman's tea kettle. "A plus one. Is our esteemed magician trying to woo our Prince with a tasty snack?" The com bead went dead a moment later.

Front Gates

The iron, baroque, style gates yawned open seemingly of their own accord. Several men in suites hefting AR-15's and Benelli M4's could be seen standing off on the lawn. Patrolling in pairs. Several gargoyles adorned the lawn seemingly crouching or sitting in posture among the gardens. Of course they where simply actively surveying the grounds for signs of intruders. Each one possessing enough strength to pick Mikhailov up, grab his arms and legs, and tear him in half. Several other guards Ghoul and Kindred alike were present but not seen. A sniper team trained their high powered rifles on Mikhailov's and Loretta's heads the entire time.

Then a short, thin, pale, blonde haired man could be seen walking briskly towards the duo. Standing squarely before them. His grey eye's looking at both of them. His expensive versace suit and shoes of the Italian style, complimented by tapered pants, and white gloves made him out to appear as a butler. Which, in function he administratively was in regards to Anna's court. Though in his own right he was a Tremere acolyte.

"Mr. Mikhailov, and Sir." the latter was in regards to Loretta who Kai respectfully nodded. "The Lady of the House will be arriving shortly if you are to see her. I trust with this newcomer to take before her? This way." Kai turned on his heels and led the duo across the lawns and to the finely worked and lacquered oak doors. They opened swiftly and without sound before the approach of Kai.

Once in Kai led them out of the large Foyer where they could see broad staircases with finely worked rails. Taking them into an antechamber that led to several other rooms. Living rooms, a dining hall, gallery, and finally a study. All places Anna would normally hold court. Indeed, the rooms hosted at least four dozen individuals combined. Drinking, laughing, socializing, or discussing matters of varying importance. Kai moved them into the study. Rows of books, some small tables, and nice plush couches and upholstered chairs ringed a small glass coffee table in the center. Kai directed them to the seating opposite of a black leather couch. Moving past them, so they faced away from the black leather couch, Kai nodded again and raised a white gloved hand, "The Prince will see you now." Kai bowed and left. But the bow was not for them. For as they turned around to face the coffee table and black leather couch they would see a woman seated. No one had been there before. Yet there she was with legs crossed and black hair done up in a single braid that flowed down her left shoulder. Her black dress ran to her knees. Her bright electric green eyes like a cat. Her skin was flawless, matching her unreal beauty of face and body. She was tall as well with an athletic toned body. Her sudden appearance brought bows from everyone in the room before they went back to their prior engagements.

"Mikhailov, I trust the reason you are here is due to the individual next to you?" Her voice was like honey. Sultry, attractive, musing to the ears of men.

[Luminesa]

Anna's Residence
Security Suite

The magical wards of Anna's Residence had picked up Mikhailov's vortex before the duo had even arrived. Medorna watched the vortex warily as security guards trained weapons in it's general direction. Only relaxing when he gave the all clear order over the communications network once the two had been identified.

Ronaldo Medorna, one of the senior ghouls in Anna's employ ever since bothering to take up a home in California, and rising to one of her chief security officers once the very same home became the seat of the Camarilla in Los Angeles following the events of Bloody New Year's. Ronaldo was biologically fifty-eight years of age, flecks of grey in his stubby beard and peppering his black hair, brown eyes above slight bags. He often spent long hours working. Not that his employer didn't handsomely reward him for his services. After all ten years ago Medorna was able to pay for his two daughters and son's college tuition in a single payment even while being estranged from his former wife. This former wife would look much older than Medorna. For he was a ghoul. The ravages of time held back buy little vials of Kindred vitae given to him monthly. Indeed, for despite his biological age he was chronologically closing on seventy-five years of age.

Ronaldo pressed a small blue button before a microphone piece, "Medorna to Kai. The Magician Mikhailov has returned, unannounced I might add, and with a guest." Kai's reply was about as full of sarcasm as a joyous Englishman's tea kettle. "A plus one. Is our esteemed magician trying to woo our Prince with a tasty snack?" The com bead went dead a moment later.

Front Gates

The iron, baroque, style gates yawned open seemingly of their own accord. Several men in suites hefting AR-15's and Benelli M4's could be seen standing off on the lawn. Patrolling in pairs. Several gargoyles adorned the lawn seemingly crouching or sitting in posture among the gardens. Of course they where simply actively surveying the grounds for signs of intruders. Each one possessing enough strength to pick Mikhailov up, grab his arms and legs, and tear him in half. Several other guards Ghoul and Kindred alike were present but not seen. A sniper team trained their high powered rifles on Mikhailov's and Loretta's heads the entire time.

Then a short, thin, pale, blonde haired man could be seen walking briskly towards the duo. Standing squarely before them. His grey eye's looking at both of them. His expensive versace suit and shoes of the Italian style, complimented by tapered pants, and white gloves made him out to appear as a butler. Which, in function he administratively was in regards to Anna's court. Though in his own right he was a Tremere acolyte.

"Mr. Mikhailov, and Sir." the latter was in regards to Loretta who Kai respectfully nodded. "The Lady of the House will be arriving shortly if you are to see her. I trust with this newcomer to take before her? This way." Kai turned on his heels and led the duo across the lawns and to the finely worked and lacquered oak doors. They opened swiftly and without sound before the approach of Kai.

Once in Kai led them out of the large Foyer where they could see broad staircases with finely worked rails. Taking them into an antechamber that led to several other rooms. Living rooms, a dining hall, gallery, and finally a study. All places Anna would normally hold court. Indeed, the rooms hosted at least four dozen individuals combined. Drinking, laughing, socializing, or discussing matters of varying importance. Kai moved them into the study. Rows of books, some small tables, and nice plush couches and upholstered chairs ringed a small glass coffee table in the center. Kai directed them to the seating opposite of a black leather couch. Moving past them, so they faced away from the black leather couch, Kai nodded again and raised a white gloved hand, "The Prince will see you now." Kai bowed and left. But the bow was not for them. For as they turned around to face the coffee table and black leather couch they would see a woman seated. No one had been there before. Yet there she was with legs crossed and black hair done up in a single braid that flowed down her left shoulder. Her black dress ran to her knees. Her bright electric green eyes like a cat. Her skin was flawless, matching her unreal beauty of face and body. She was tall as well with an athletic toned body. Her sudden appearance brought bows from everyone in the room before they went back to their prior engagements.

"Mikhailov, I trust the reason you are here is due to the individual next to you?" Her voice was like honey. Sultry, attractive, musing to the ears of men.

Mikhailov eyed the gates as they opened, and grinned. So Anna was indeed home. He glanced coldly at the guards, and then observed the snipers high above their heads. Security had been heightened since the Mage had last entered Anna’s mansion, possibly due to the violent events of the last several weeks. He paid little mind to the guards after his initial observation, however, and turned toward the small, wealthy servant. He grinned and nodded to Kai, as he greeted them.

“Yes. I believe the Prince will be pleased to see what I have brought her,” he answered. He eyed Loretta for just a moment, smiling as though to assure him that nothing would happen to him. Mikhailov then turned and followed Kai, expecting Loretta to walk with him. He briefly glanced at the grand, beautiful interior of the mansion as they entered. Having entered the building several times before, he found the wealth and prestige of the building fancy, but nothing new. Of course, he expected Loretta behind him to be fascinated by Anna’s vast wealth.

After a few minutes of walking, Kai stopped the duo in the living room, in front of a lush black couch and a small, glass coffee table. As Kai notified them of the Prince’s arrivalc Mikhailov nodded. “Yes sir. Thank you,” he answered politely. When Kai left, and the two men turned toward the couch, they would notice that Anna was indeed waiting for them. Power emanated from her being, and her eyes stared through the Mage and his companion. She stared at them with a sort of nonchalant condescension, and as she spoke, her words were the slow stroke of a rosin bow against a violin’s string.

Indeed, even the cold Mage found Anna to be beautiful and attractive. Of course, he hated to give any hint toward genuine affection for others, and thus ducked his face for a moment as she addressed him. He then nodded to Loretta. “Kneel,” he whispered, before he dropped to a knee before the vampire before him. “My Prince. As stunning as usual. I have brought to you not a human, but a Kindred, one who has lived his entire life without understanding his power. He seems to be a Toreador, based on his love for the arts and for beauty. But I have come that you may graciously address his fears and concerns about being a Kindred. I have begun his education, but you are much wiser and much more powerful than I,” he answered, measured and calm.

[True Christopia]

Loretta

The mansion was incredibly luxurious. It reminded him of his days staying at the Waldorf Astoria, although it was too long ago to remember the exact details - but they seemed alike. They moved through several rooms, each as grand as the last - Loretta couldn't help but smile at the wealth. While it might not have been his, it was certainly a marvel to look at.

Finally, they were sat down in the study - on a fine leather couch. Loretta had stayed silent, taking it all in - and when they turned back, a woman was sat opposite. Materialised out of thin air, like they had previously teleported. Everything was so surreal to him - he had simply stepped into another world.

"Kneel."

Loretta watched as Mikhailov knelt before the woman, and a slight twitch came to his mouth. He had only just met the woman, this 'Prince', and he was expected to kneel? After he had finished speaking, Loretta spoke up "With all due respect, Ma'am, I didn't even kneel before the Capo Di Tutti Capi - I am not going to kneel before somebody I've never met. But," he said, sticking his hand forward.

"I'll shake your hand."

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Connor MacDomhnaill

Months passed, and Connor did it. He could hear his rivals at Éire screaming with hate. Connor was sent to Hell, but instead of burning, he made it into a nice retreat for men like him. Men who wanted violence, the opportunity of fighting vampires again in a different place. His suicide mission became a field filled with potential for Garou.

The money made in the dockyards became a establishment in town. The Irishman's Rest, a bar, became a front and a symbol of Garou presence in town. It also served as a beacon for lost Garou in the town, gathering them in one resistance under one pack leader. Connor slowed his pace, and started to show a more strategic side of his mind.

In the second level, Connor studied a map of the town and names. The Sabbat were, at least theoretically, exterminated from LA. However the Camarilla received only a few scratches from his efforts. It would take a long time to do some damage against them, but definitely the target that had his attention was the Malkavian Primogen.

Looking at Riyoko, the Kitsune who was a part of his pack, Connor stroked his chin and drank part of his liquor filled cup.

"Sabbat are gone, we are making progress... but that damned Malkavian is still alive and operating. Any suggestions for a course of action now?"

[Finsternia]

Silvanus

Surprisingly, the cookies that the Doll Helena has offered are normal cookies. Perhaps its normalcy is a foreign and alien concept in this mad world that the Malkavian Primogen has set up. Its taste was somewhat different, perhaps from the cold or from the fact that it has been there since morning alongside other normal foodstuffs. Helena watched happily as her cookies were silently appreciated, taking note of the man's silence as delight. She clasped her wrinkled hands on her lap, smiling as she listened to him talk about his compulsion to find a certain someone and be lead to the Funeral House. "Oh my... Oh dear, that could only be the work of Fate! Cling to that memory deary! Perhaps the person you are trying to find is your future husband! Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle." Helena clasped her hands on her lap, listening to hin talk about his compulsion to find a certain someone and be lead to the Funeral House. "Oh my... Oh dear, that could only be the work of Fate! Cling to that memory deary! Perhaps the person you are trying to find is your future husband! Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle." Helena clasped her hands on her lap, listening to hin talk about his compulsion to find a certain someone and be lead to the Funeral House. "Oh my... Oh dear, that could only be the work of Fate! Cling to that memory deary! Perhaps the person you are trying to find is your future husband! Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle." Helena clasped her hands on her lap, listening to hin talk about his compulsion to find a certain someone and be lead to the Funeral House. "Oh my... Oh dear, that could only be the work of Fate! Cling to that memory deary! Perhaps the person you are trying to find is your future husband! Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle." Helena kept on repeating her actions and words, seemingly like a broken record. Everytime she reaches the last word of her sentence, a loud static would echo through the room and would promp her to repeat this dialogue. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

Until the dark will that slumbered beneath the earth has fully awoken, focusing its full attention on this place...

"Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle..."

The sun has fully set down on the horizon, giving way to dusk and the night. The Lords of the Night have started to rise from their graves to return to the land of the living. At this very moment an angered howl filled the very halls of the funeral house, shaking its walls and foundations. The voices that the silver haired man has heard before has gone into a state of panic, screaming in pain and horror at whatever the thing that made this eldritch place tremble in fear. Helena and her guard dog both collapsed as the overwhelming will of their vampire lord has awoken. Even the other vampires, the Kindred of Clan Malkavian, who are also waking up during this time whimpered and hid within their resting places, their cries for help reaching the silver haired man's ears.

"IN... TER... LOPER!"

A single word carrying immense anger at having its haven discovered bore its way into the man's mind. Much of the psychic attack's blunt damage would be absorbed by his mental fortitude and Faith to the divine yet not all. A sharp pain would ring within his ears as a headache would feel like drilling into his skull and make his knees weak. The entire establishment would continue to wail its fear until everything stopped and have come into a standstill. Everything was quiet, even the myriad of voices sobbed quietly. A foreboding feeling came with the silence until that event brought it to reality. A figure of a man stark naked has phased through the kitchen's doors as he dashed with supernatural speed. His long white hair flowed behind him like a curtain of vicious snow. He was also stark naked and his eyes burned the color of grass, the color of leaves, the color of yellowish green reminiscent of infernal sulphuric fires. But his hair nor his state of nakedness and even his supernatural eyes and speed wasn't the thing that made him feel scary. It was the four bloody tails that grew out of his lower back and the dark mist of madness that shrouded him. His tails were like huge spinal columns with sharp bone blades to each side of each vertebra. Each vertebra has a malevolent eye encased within a tough case, its sclera black and its iris bloodshot. The tails seemed to writhe like grotesque scorpion tails. This image would only be momentarily as the vampire collided against him with extreme force, shattering the wall behind them and pinning him down on the floor next room. A clawed hand held his face, slowly drawing blood out with a gentle yet unyielding grip.

He was far more beautiful up close than far away. A gentle sculpted face, smooth and marble like skin, a high nose, slender white eyebrows, pinkish lips that are tainted with blood, and burning green eyes. It was almost uncanny for the man to see features of himself reflected by the face of his attacker. The four grotesque tails were pointed towards him, dripping with blood and their eyes focused and their glares filled with unending malice. The vampire opened his mouth and growled, sharp teeth showing, and the scent of blood filled the man's nostrils. "You..." The vampire's face contorted as he peered in closer and shouted at the silver haired man. "BETRAYER!" Its anger bore down on the man's mind and body, the insanity and hurt surging forth. Everything seemed to shatter at that moment, giving way to various pictures and fragmented images that made no sense. A white haired man offering his hand. A white haired man smiling down at him. A white haired man carrying him. A white haired man drenched in blood. A white haired man... The white haired vampire and this white haired man are all the same, yet forgotten. The darkness consumed him once again and the burning eyes of green fire greeted him once more. The voices sweetly whispered in his ears a single name as the vampire looked at him not only with anger but also with anticipation and hope.

Silvanus...

Lord Silvanus...

Demon Fox Riyoko

Months have passed since Connor's Garou pack have wiped out the Sabbat warehouse. The other Sabbat strongholds and the Anarchs were taken care of the Camarilla and their Tremere Prince. Riyoko has found this convenient as she and her pack leader could focus on the more important things such as their own territory expansion. They have secured the docks and have established their stronghold within Los Angeles. It was a very good accomplishment for the Garou as they can recruit wayward kin. Their efforts might be small, especially against the power and ambitions of the vampire rulers of the city, but they are getting somewhere.

Riyoko, clothed in a loose red kimono, was sitting on her chair, writing on pieces of paper with a paintbrush. Strokes of black ink printed down the kanji words for various magical incantations. There was already a sizeable stack of Kami on the office table beside a cold glass of golden beer. She was inscribing the words of power leisurely, like how one would do with calligraphy. If Connor would watch carefully, spiritual power and dark magic imbued the papers that Riyoko is making. The kitsune raised her enticing face towards her pack leader and mate, finishing one paper and putting down her paintbrush for awhile. "Silvanus is an old being and he is very hard to kill. Even against fellow Elders, he never backed down and has slaughtered many under the previous Prince. Dealing with him won't be easy. But..." Riyoko smiled as she reached for her glass of beer and made a slight gesture of toasting. "It would be easier and safer for us to inflict damage indirectly without facing him, starting with his resources."

[Luminesa]

Silvanus

Surprisingly, the cookies that the Doll Helena has offered are normal cookies. Perhaps its normalcy is a foreign and alien concept in this mad world that the Malkavian Primogen has set up. Its taste was somewhat different, perhaps from the cold or from the fact that it has been there since morning alongside other normal foodstuffs. Helena watched happily as her cookies were silently appreciated, taking note of the man's silence as delight. She clasped her wrinkled hands on her lap, smiling as she listened to him talk about his compulsion to find a certain someone and be lead to the Funeral House. "Oh my... Oh dear, that could only be the work of Fate! Cling to that memory deary! Perhaps the person you are trying to find is your future husband! Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle." Helena clasped her hands on her lap, listening to hin talk about his compulsion to find a certain someone and be lead to the Funeral House. "Oh my... Oh dear, that could only be the work of Fate! Cling to that memory deary! Perhaps the person you are trying to find is your future husband! Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle." Helena clasped her hands on her lap, listening to hin talk about his compulsion to find a certain someone and be lead to the Funeral House. "Oh my... Oh dear, that could only be the work of Fate! Cling to that memory deary! Perhaps the person you are trying to find is your future husband! Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle." Helena clasped her hands on her lap, listening to hin talk about his compulsion to find a certain someone and be lead to the Funeral House. "Oh my... Oh dear, that could only be the work of Fate! Cling to that memory deary! Perhaps the person you are trying to find is your future husband! Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle." Helena kept on repeating her actions and words, seemingly like a broken record. Everytime she reaches the last word of her sentence, a loud static would echo through the room and would promp her to repeat this dialogue. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

Until the dark will that slumbered beneath the earth has fully awoken, focusing its full attention on this place...

"Oh, I can already see you in your wedding gown walking down the aisle..."

The sun has fully set down on the horizon, giving way to dusk and the night. The Lords of the Night have started to rise from their graves to return to the land of the living. At this very moment an angered howl filled the very halls of the funeral house, shaking its walls and foundations. The voices that the silver haired man has heard before has gone into a state of panic, screaming in pain and horror at whatever the thing that made this eldritch place tremble in fear. Helena and her guard dog both collapsed as the overwhelming will of their vampire lord has awoken. Even the other vampires, the Kindred of Clan Malkavian, who are also waking up during this time whimpered and hid within their resting places, their cries for help reaching the silver haired man's ears.

"IN... TER... LOPER!"

A single word carrying immense anger at having its haven discovered bore its way into the man's mind. Much of the psychic attack's blunt damage would be absorbed by his mental fortitude and Faith to the divine yet not all. A sharp pain would ring within his ears as a headache would feel like drilling into his skull and make his knees weak. The entire establishment would continue to wail its fear until everything stopped and have come into a standstill. Everything was quiet, even the myriad of voices sobbed quietly. A foreboding feeling came with the silence until that event brought it to reality. A figure of a man stark naked has phased through the kitchen's doors as he dashed with supernatural speed. His long white hair flowed behind him like a curtain of vicious snow. He was also stark naked and his eyes burned the color of grass, the color of leaves, the color of yellowish green reminiscent of infernal sulphuric fires. But his hair nor his state of nakedness and even his supernatural eyes and speed wasn't the thing that made him feel scary. It was the four bloody tails that grew out of his lower back and the dark mist of madness that shrouded him. His tails were like huge spinal columns with sharp bone blades to each side of each vertebra. Each vertebra has a malevolent eye encased within a tough case, its sclera black and its iris bloodshot. The tails seemed to writhe like grotesque scorpion tails. This image would only be momentarily as the vampire collided against him with extreme force, shattering the wall behind them and pinning him down on the floor next room. A clawed hand held his face, slowly drawing blood out with a gentle yet unyielding grip.

He was far more beautiful up close than far away. A gentle sculpted face, smooth and marble like skin, a high nose, slender white eyebrows, pinkish lips that are tainted with blood, and burning green eyes. It was almost uncanny for the man to see features of himself reflected by the face of his attacker. The four grotesque tails were pointed towards him, dripping with blood and their eyes focused and their glares filled with unending malice. The vampire opened his mouth and growled, sharp teeth showing, and the scent of blood filled the man's nostrils. "You..." The vampire's face contorted as he peered in closer and shouted at the silver haired man. "BETRAYER!" Its anger bore down on the man's mind and body, the insanity and hurt surging forth. Everything seemed to shatter at that moment, giving way to various pictures and fragmented images that made no sense. A white haired man offering his hand. A white haired man smiling down at him. A white haired man carrying him. A white haired man drenched in blood. A white haired man... The white haired vampire and this white haired man are all the same, yet forgotten. The darkness consumed him once again and the burning eyes of green fire greeted him once more. The voices sweetly whispered in his ears a single name as the vampire looked at him not only with anger but also with anticipation and hope.

Silvanus...

Lord Silvanus...

Demon Fox Riyoko

Months have passed since Connor's Garou pack have wiped out the Sabbat warehouse. The other Sabbat strongholds and the Anarchs were taken care of the Camarilla and their Tremere Prince. Riyoko has found this convenient as she and her pack leader could focus on the more important things such as their own territory expansion. They have secured the docks and have established their stronghold within Los Angeles. It was a very good accomplishment for the Garou as they can recruit wayward kin. Their efforts might be small, especially against the power and ambitions of the vampire rulers of the city, but they are getting somewhere.

Riyoko, clothed in a loose red kimono, was sitting on her chair, writing on pieces of paper with a paintbrush. Strokes of black ink printed down the kanji words for various magical incantations. There was already a sizeable stack of Kami on the office table beside a cold glass of golden beer. She was inscribing the words of power leisurely, like how one would do with calligraphy. If Connor would watch carefully, spiritual power and dark magic imbued the papers that Riyoko is making. The kitsune raised her enticing face towards her pack leader and mate, finishing one paper and putting down her paintbrush for awhile. "Silvanus is an old being and he is very hard to kill. Even against fellow Elders, he never backed down and has slaughtered many under the previous Prince. Dealing with him won't be easy. But..." Riyoko smiled as she reached for her glass of beer and made a slight gesture of toasting. "It would be easier and safer for us to inflict damage indirectly without facing him, starting with his resources."

Helena’s gesture seemed friendly enough. The first time she talked about him getting married, he blushed bashfully and avoided her eyes. However, before he could answer her, he noticed something was...off. “...Oh! Well, I...huh?” He lifted his eyes to look at Helena and to listen, and he realized that she was saying the same thing over and over. That fizzling of the light in front of her glasses, then, was no fluke. As he watched the disturbing scene unfold, he backed out of his chair and stepped back. “...Ms. Argent?...” he muttered. Then the voices began to intensify around him. They were screaming in pain, almost as though his very presence had caused them such pain. “...What is...going on?!”

Then, once the sun had set, and the insanity had reached its apex, all of the chaos stopped for a second. Then, a booming, raging voice shrieked through the man, calling him an interloper. Not even covering his ears helped. Yet he did cover them, and he felt himself ready to drop to the ground from the pain. “...Agh...where is...that voice...” he mumbled. He realized the voice sounded familiar, but he could not identify how it was familiar. Before he could figure the source, the source came directly to him and barreled into him.

Silvanus had awakened, naked and seething with anger, to finally attack the intruder himself. The man whirled around just in time for Silvanus to rush him, but was thrown into the room nearby before he could act. “GAH!” As soon as he hit the floor, Silvanus was on top of him, aiming his massive, scorpion-like tendrils at him. One would think the man would be afraid, but instead, he focused entirely on Silvanus’s face, shocked rather than afraid. He did not even notice that the Malkavian was naked. That face looked almost exactly like his own, save his own eyes were blue rather than green. He felt as though he was staring into a mirror. Even when Silvanus took a hand and clawed the intruder’s face, the man almost became calmer, rather than more fearful.

That face...I know...that face... The thought pierced his mind, and in that opening in his mind he saw images. Memories flooding back to him. The Primogen’s power over the mind included the ability to shape minds to his will, but despite his malicious appearance he almost appeared...hopeful. As though he wanted his captive to remember something. As bits and pieces of memories began to pour through his mind, the picture began to complete itself. He saw the images Silvanus desired to show him...

...Is there anything...I can do for you?...

An innocent-looking child, dressed in long, flowing robes and wearing a breastplate, stared up at Silvanus while holding his hand. Silvanus seemed to be lost in his thoughts, in pain and afraid of something from his past. The child-the man’s past self-stared up at him with kind worry, his eyes sad like a hound’s but his expression calm and caring, almost precocious. Silvanus did not respond...

The image passed his mind’s eye like a snowflake, and another appeared. The same boy had collapsed, a bloody and broken wreck. He was breathing heavily, and clutching his chest. A large, sparkling spear was next to him, also covered in blood. ...That spear...I remember that as well!... the man thought. Then Silvanus had found him. Rather than draining what remained, he lifted the child and carried him gently to his home. The Malkavian looked down at the boy, that same sad look in his eyes again. Yet now he seemed bitter, as though something about the boy’s appearance made him cynical. Yet he still carried the boy as though he was a porcelain vase, with care and deliberation.

...I wish...to love...and to be loved...

Another vision. In a dark corner of a building, some sort of cafe, the same boy fell on his knees before Silvanus, exhausted. He was begging him for something. A wish. The man suddenly remembered that he had wished for something. For love. Silvanus’s severe look, as he glared down at the kneeling child, became soft with understanding, and he placed a hand on the child’s head. The boy then fell forward, and his head landed in the vampire’s lap. He was asleep, at peace.

...Silvanus...Lord Silvanus...

The man gasped, as he came back to reality. His own voice had spoken that name, yet his lips had not moved. He blinked and stared at the vampire, who was still glaring him down. Yet he recalled that look. Those eyes. Behind the burning anger, he always saw that hint of sadness. Thus, rather than drawing a weapon, his body relaxed. The familiar face matched itself with a name, and a once-lost set of memories returned. “...Your eyes...” he finally whispered, in a reaction that would be incredibly odd to anyone watching, “...they still look...sad...Your pain has not faded at all, Lord Silvanus?...” The strange man took a risk, and looked beyond the scars at the man from his memories. “...They look the same...as they did the last time...we met...”

[Imperialisium]

Anna's Residence
Study Room

Anna looked at Loretta with an expression of utter blandness as Mikhailov doled out his knowledge on the stranger before her. The kindred around them eyed Loretta and the magician with expressions of mixed intrigue and boredom. No doubt gossip would circulate about whatever transpired within this very study tonight. When Loretta refused to bow and proffered a hand, Anna's eyebrow's raised up in surprise, the gaggle of kindred in the room fell silent. "This Caitiff indeed knows nothing, Magician." Anna's words where directed at Mikhailov despite not looking at him. Her eyes were locked on Loretta's outstretched hand. "Lesson one: Etiquette. While you are in Los Angeles and its environs you are within my domain. You will show me the respect due."

Anna raised a hand, and extended her index finger, and as she did so a sudden invincible force seized Loretta. As she slowly curled her index finger the force pushed Loretta to his knees. Then bent his back against his will so that he was prostrate before her. She rested her hand back on her knees, legs still crossed, and the invisible force disappeared as quickly as it began. "Leave us." The courtiers walked out of the room and the house servants shut the doors behind them. "My title is Prince. It signifies an individual as lord of a particular territory. Feeding, embracing, and judicial matters are in my hands alone. You will show utmost respect to me, my Primogen who are the heads of the respective clans in the Camarilla present in Los Angeles, and any elder you meet."

Anna switched her legs to change which one was on top of the other and continued speaking. "Lesson two. Probably the most important. The Traditions. The Laws of the Camarilla are based on the early laws of all Cainites throughout the millennia. First, Masquerade, our existence must be hidden from the Kine. Mortals. Two, Domain, a Kindred's territory is theirs to rule alone. Progeny, only sire at permission of elders. Fourth, Accounting, until released all childer are the responsibility of the sire. Hospitality, honor the domain of others and present yourself accordingly out of respect. Finally, Destruction, the right to destroy Kindred and extol the True Death is the right of elders alone. Any questions so far?"

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Demon Fox Riyoko

Months have passed since Connor's Garou pack have wiped out the Sabbat warehouse. The other Sabbat strongholds and the Anarchs were taken care of the Camarilla and their Tremere Prince. Riyoko has found this convenient as she and her pack leader could focus on the more important things such as their own territory expansion. They have secured the docks and have established their stronghold within Los Angeles. It was a very good accomplishment for the Garou as they can recruit wayward kin. Their efforts might be small, especially against the power and ambitions of the vampire rulers of the city, but they are getting somewhere.

Riyoko, clothed in a loose red kimono, was sitting on her chair, writing on pieces of paper with a paintbrush. Strokes of black ink printed down the kanji words for various magical incantations. There was already a sizeable stack of Kami on the office table beside a cold glass of golden beer. She was inscribing the words of power leisurely, like how one would do with calligraphy. If Connor would watch carefully, spiritual power and dark magic imbued the papers that Riyoko is making. The kitsune raised her enticing face towards her pack leader and mate, finishing one paper and putting down her paintbrush for awhile. "Silvanus is an old being and he is very hard to kill. Even against fellow Elders, he never backed down and has slaughtered many under the previous Prince. Dealing with him won't be easy. But..." Riyoko smiled as she reached for her glass of beer and made a slight gesture of toasting. "It would be easier and safer for us to inflict damage indirectly without facing him, starting with his resources."

Connor MacDomhnaill

His face was filled with tension. At least this time simply punching, kicking, stabbing, smashing, breaking and biting his foe wasn't going to solve his problem. Because his problem was a powerful and old Malkavian, old enough to not be beaten easily. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he went to a coffee machine and did a cup of Irish Coffee for himself, before he sat near Riyoko looking at her pieces of paper.

"His dolls... We need to target that. His attacks always leaves us with heavy casualties, we need to eliminate that in one move. We're going guerrilla here. Bombs. Can you make these papers explode or make an explosion bigger? If you can amplify that, I'll call St. Michael. Of course, introducing you to a bomb maker and known arsonist is a regrettable decision, but it is needed."

[True Christopia]

Loretta

His hand was not taken. Instead, he was suddenly bent against his will - forced to kneel. With a grunt, Loretta was on his knees before the 'Prince'. He very suddenly realised the graveness of his situation - she was far more dangerous than any Capo Di Tutti Capi. As much as he may have wanted to pull his pistol and shoot the woman dead, he felt that would likely be ineffective, all things considered.

With a smile, he simply said "Lesson learned." and listened to what she had to say. Lots of what she was saying went straight over his head. With that, he slowly brought his head up, hesitating for a moment - "Yeah, I do - What's this Camerilla? And what do you do - what am I supposed to do? I got any like, responsibilities?"

[Imperialisium]

Anna's Residence

Anna let out a sigh, Loretta indeed knew nothing, she would have to teach this stripling about how the world actually worked it seemed. Why don't I just have my Gargoyles seize him and destroy this illegal embrasure. Like I normally would. But Clan Toreador was more or less reduced to but a handful of fledglings in Los Angeles after the events in months prior. Their Primogen was entombed below the Residence in torpor. They had no leadership and no meaningful numbers. No influence anymore and little wealth remains to them in Los Angeles. Since the Camarilla and the other Primogen had seen fit to divvy up the Toreador clan's assets after their unfortunate destruction. Unfortunate. Anna smiled inwardly.

"The Camarilla is a sect. One of three. The true Sect so to speak. All kindred are under its purviews and it's laws which promulgate the Masquerade. It has seven clans; Ventrue, Gangrel, Toreador, Malkavian, Brujah, Nosferatu, and Tremere. Each one unique and part of the sect since its inception many centuries ago. The Camarilla governs the Kindred. Your job is to obey its laws and institutions." Anna stood up and paced around Loretta, slowly, analyzing him like a scientist looks at a lab rat. She touched his neck with a soft finger. Took in his smell. Placed a hand under his chin, gripping his jaw. "Say awe." Loretta opened his mouth slowly. His fangs came into view. She looked at them, scrutinizing them, "You are indeed not long in the fang." That was a term of expression, an archaic one, but more or less ment Loretta was not old by the standards of the Kindred. She let go of his jaw. "The Magician believes you to be of Clan Toreador. If you are then that would certainly make things better for you. A Caitiff, a vampire that is without clan or bloodline, is but an orphan to us. Most are destroyed by the Scourges. You may wonder what a Scourge is? It is a vampire whose job is to hunt down and destroy what amounts to be illegally created Kindred. Different than that of a Sheriff, a term for a vampire given investigative authority in enforcing a Prince's will. A Scourge need not have that pretense. I have several and they would not mind giving you the True Death as befits their duty. So, let us determine where you belong exactly."

Anna opened a small casket on a table next to the sofa she had been sitting on across from them. Pulling out a small, plain, silver cup. "Do you remember anything of who embraced you?" She walked over to Mikhailov. "Cut him. I need only a small sample; and do not make a mess on my floor."

[Luminesa]

Anna's Residence

Anna let out a sigh, Loretta indeed knew nothing, she would have to teach this stripling about how the world actually worked it seemed. Why don't I just have my Gargoyles seize him and destroy this illegal embrasure. Like I normally would. But Clan Toreador was more or less reduced to but a handful of fledglings in Los Angeles after the events in months prior. Their Primogen was entombed below the Residence in torpor. They had no leadership and no meaningful numbers. No influence anymore and little wealth remains to them in Los Angeles. Since the Camarilla and the other Primogen had seen fit to divvy up the Toreador clan's assets after their unfortunate destruction. Unfortunate. Anna smiled inwardly.

"The Camarilla is a sect. One of three. The true Sect so to speak. All kindred are under its purviews and it's laws which promulgate the Masquerade. It has seven clans; Ventrue, Gangrel, Toreador, Malkavian, Brujah, Nosferatu, and Tremere. Each one unique and part of the sect since its inception many centuries ago. The Camarilla governs the Kindred. Your job is to obey its laws and institutions." Anna stood up and paced around Loretta, slowly, analyzing him like a scientist looks at a lab rat. She touched his neck with a soft finger. Took in his smell. Placed a hand under his chin, gripping his jaw. "Say awe." Loretta opened his mouth slowly. His fangs came into view. She looked at them, scrutinizing them, "You are indeed not long in the fang." That was a term of expression, an archaic one, but more or less ment Loretta was not old by the standards of the Kindred. She let go of his jaw. "The Magician believes you to be of Clan Toreador. If you are then that would certainly make things better for you. A Caitiff, a vampire that is without clan or bloodline, is but an orphan to us. Most are destroyed by the Scourges. You may wonder what a Scourge is? It is a vampire whose job is to hunt down and destroy what amounts to be illegally created Kindred. Different than that of a Sheriff, a term for a vampire given investigative authority in enforcing a Prince's will. A Scourge need not have that pretense. I have several and they would not mind giving you the True Death as befits their duty. So, let us determine where you belong exactly."

Anna opened a small casket on a table next to the sofa she had been sitting on across from them. Pulling out a small, plain, silver cup. "Do you remember anything of who embraced you?" She walked over to Mikhailov. "Cut him. I need only a small sample; and do not make a mess on my floor."

Mikhailov rose, and bowed to the Prince. “No worries, my Prince. I’ll make this clean and as painless as possible,” he answered. He then turned toward Loretta. His expression was a little different now, blank and unreadable. He seemed to drop his charming act now, as Anna got down to business to decide to which Clan Loretta belonged. He held-up a small, glinting shard of light, and grasped it like a scalpel.

As it sharpened slightly, he murmured, “This might hurt just slightly. Just take a deep breath.” He almost sounded like an actual doctor, calm and soothing. He then took the small “scalpel” and pricked the gangster’s finger. He drew the blood by pinching Loretta’s finger, and then held it on the scalpel, before he showed it to Anna. “Is this enough? Also, Loretta, put a little pressure on the wound and it will heal fine,” he added back toward his companion.

[True Christopia]

Loretta

Loretta nodded and listened to what the vampire had to say - the 'Prince'. He smiled slightly, knowing he wouldn't be given 'True Death' anytime soon. Thank whatever God was up there. Then, as she asked who embraced him - he shrugged "No clue." before watching without a flinch as his finger was pricked by the magician "He was some art patron, same as me, in New York. Took me to the back room, and - er - embraced me, as you're sayin'. I took it as he'd just tried to whack me, and shot him dead on the spot. That's all I remember of 'im, Ma'am - er - Prince. I went into hiding from then."

Then, he remembered her mentioning his job "So, what - all I've gotta do is obey the Camarilla laws? That's it? No extra fancy Camarilla jobs like suckin' people's blood, peddlin' drugs perhaps? Runnin' the business? I can tell ya', if you need a drug operation, I'm your guy. Or any other kinda' less legal, under the books kinda' stuff. "

[Finsternia]

Silvanus

Silvanus leans forward and smiles widely, fangs bared and his eyes filled with ecstatic pleasure. "Yes... You have finally, finally remembered... My dear little Alexei... Have you remembered visiting me after all those years of never showing your shadow to me?" The Malkavian Elder breathed down, a visible fog of red filled the man's nostrils. It smelled like blood, tasted like blood, yet has the bitter and disgusting feel of powerful acid. His skin hurt as a faint wind blew the blood fog away. "Alexei, how can you be so cruel as to forget me? I have been so so sooooo sad when you were away... I have no one to play with." The green tint of Silvanus' eyes swirled like toxic miasma, indicating that he is still having one of his episodes. At this hour, he could have not yet fed. "Did you come here alone or with your little Hunter friends? Tell me... You don't want your Hunter friends to end up writhing in pain, don't you?"

Sage Astorias

The Painted World was indeed beautiful. Each stroke of paint from the outside was full reality. The blue paint flowed into crystal clear blue winter rivers and the skies above that are dotted by the frequent cold clouds. The entire world was a winter wonderland, soft white paint turning into soft snow that crunches beneath one's feet. It was a place of wonder that, despite without the magnificent unrivalled beauty of Arcadia and the Supernal Realms, it would capture the hearts of the weary and those who do not belong.

It was early morning and the warm golden lights of the sun up above light up the lone cabin that the Archmaster and the young Fae Epeiosa stayed in. Inside was as warm as the sun's gentle touch, a toasty blanket that kept them from freezing. Beside the hearth was a woman, who most probably is at her mid forties, with an open book on her lap. A staff made from long lost magical plants sat just above the book, around her knees. It looks strong with its polished wood and twining roots. At the top was the hand of a juvenile dragon, seemingly still alive, which is grasping an orb made of pure crystallized dreamstuff. This is Agatha, the maker of this world, hunter of dragons, Archmaster of Life. She was once the mentor of Astorias until she left the Fallen World in search for the secrets of dragons.

Across her was a handsome man with knee long pitch black hair. It almost looks outrageous, like a wind blown fox tail. He carried a confident smile that seems to not fade whatever age he takes. His clothes were old yet colorful. Mint green fabrics blended with red and gold, robes that a humble Mage would wear. Agatha took a huge gulp of her chocolate and placed it down. "It's been almost a month since you've been bringing that girl here... What are you planning?" The black haired man laughed nervously as he tapped on his chair's arm. "Nonsense, Mentor! It's just an agreement that I had with the Fae, Endymion. You know that contracts signed with them couldn't be refused."

"You could have easily refused before you agreed. Archmastery didn't help with your enlightenment."

"N-No! It's just that it involves the education of my student, Simone. You've known him before, right?"

"Yes... A brilliant yet naive child... I'n afraid he'll break soon enough with all the horrors of our world... Just... Beware of the Fae, Astorias. They know how to twist their words. You better call your new Fae apprentice so that we could have breakfast."

Astorias sighed and nodded. "Yes, Maam." The Archmaster of Prime stood up and walked through the comfortable home of his old mentor. Nothing much has changed after all those decades. He tried his best to maintain its paint fresh from the outside and Agatha maintained the Space spells used for the Painted World. It's as real as it gets. Astorias stopped at a heavy wooden door and knocked, calling out with his younger self's enchanting voice that swooned ladies back and forth. "Good morning, Epeiosa. Are you ready for another day? Come now, Mentor Agatha has readied some breakfast."

Simone de Angelo

The young Acanthus Mage walked by the shore of Endymion's Ocean, his dog Benny trotting behind him. It was only been a week since he stayed in Arcadia and he already misses the Fallen World. Despite the keen time sense of the Acanthus, he could only detect Endymion's own time flow. He didn't realize that it's already been a month outside. Simone was watching his footprints and Benny's footprints in the soft wet sand vanish as the gentle waves of the ocean sweep them away. "We're like sand in the face of the waves of Time..." He crouched down and started shaping the soft sand with his hands. It was very soft, almost like the toys that young children play with to exercise their creativity. Simone liked it here. It's where fantasies become real. His Awakening and his life as a Mage gave him hope in spite of his motherless past and drunk father raised life. The power of narration, of time, of luck, of fate are all at his hands. Astorias always told him to be careful and to be thoughtful of his magic. He was ecstatic of this change and he couldn't wait to try it out after all! Simone found the consequences the wrong way when he faced his first Paradox. Astorias was there to protect him and save him. What could have happened when the old Archmaster wasn't there? "How's Grandpa Astorias now...?" He whispered as Benny watched him shape a sandcastle in the image of the Watchtower of the Lunargent Thorn.

Demon Fox Riyoko

"Yes I can. It's a simple thing to do. In fact, atleast half of these papers have exploding fire Kami within them. Activating them is a matter of time." The Kitsune brought the glass of beer to her lips, sipping and drinking the cold golden liquid. "And an arsonist? You sure have the unique friends around, Connor. Oh well, who am I to judge?" Riyoko then giggled, a tinge of seductiveness in her voice that is as intoxicating as the pack's special beer. "I just need to mass produce these right? Do you not care about the civilian casualties that would result from our rampant terror attack?"

[Luminesa]

Silvanus

Silvanus leans forward and smiles widely, fangs bared and his eyes filled with ecstatic pleasure. "Yes... You have finally, finally remembered... My dear little Alexei... Have you remembered visiting me after all those years of never showing your shadow to me?" The Malkavian Elder breathed down, a visible fog of red filled the man's nostrils. It smelled like blood, tasted like blood, yet has the bitter and disgusting feel of powerful acid. His skin hurt as a faint wind blew the blood fog away. "Alexei, how can you be so cruel as to forget me? I have been so so sooooo sad when you were away... I have no one to play with." The green tint of Silvanus' eyes swirled like toxic miasma, indicating that he is still having one of his episodes. At this hour, he could have not yet fed. "Did you come here alone or with your little Hunter friends? Tell me... You don't want your Hunter friends to end up writhing in pain, don't you?"

Sage Astorias

The Painted World was indeed beautiful. Each stroke of paint from the outside was full reality. The blue paint flowed into crystal clear blue winter rivers and the skies above that are dotted by the frequent cold clouds. The entire world was a winter wonderland, soft white paint turning into soft snow that crunches beneath one's feet. It was a place of wonder that, despite without the magnificent unrivalled beauty of Arcadia and the Supernal Realms, it would capture the hearts of the weary and those who do not belong.

It was early morning and the warm golden lights of the sun up above light up the lone cabin that the Archmaster and the young Fae Epeiosa stayed in. Inside was as warm as the sun's gentle touch, a toasty blanket that kept them from freezing. Beside the hearth was a woman, who most probably is at her mid forties, with an open book on her lap. A staff made from long lost magical plants sat just above the book, around her knees. It looks strong with its polished wood and twining roots. At the top was the hand of a juvenile dragon, seemingly still alive, which is grasping an orb made of pure crystallized dreamstuff. This is Agatha, the maker of this world, hunter of dragons, Archmaster of Life. She was once the mentor of Astorias until she left the Fallen World in search for the secrets of dragons.

Across her was a handsome man with knee long pitch black hair. It almost looks outrageous, like a wind blown fox tail. He carried a confident smile that seems to not fade whatever age he takes. His clothes were old yet colorful. Mint green fabrics blended with red and gold, robes that a humble Mage would wear. Agatha took a huge gulp of her chocolate and placed it down. "It's been almost a month since you've been bringing that girl here... What are you planning?" The black haired man laughed nervously as he tapped on his chair's arm. "Nonsense, Mentor! It's just an agreement that I had with the Fae, Endymion. You know that contracts signed with them couldn't be refused."

"You could have easily refused before you agreed. Archmastery didn't help with your enlightenment."

"N-No! It's just that it involves the education of my student, Simone. You've known him before, right?"

"Yes... A brilliant yet naive child... I'n afraid he'll break soon enough with all the horrors of our world... Just... Beware of the Fae, Astorias. They know how to twist their words. You better call your new Fae apprentice so that we could have breakfast."

Astorias sighed and nodded. "Yes, Maam." The Archmaster of Prime stood up and walked through the comfortable home of his old mentor. Nothing much has changed after all those decades. He tried his best to maintain its paint fresh from the outside and Agatha maintained the Space spells used for the Painted World. It's as real as it gets. Astorias stopped at a heavy wooden door and knocked, calling out with his younger self's enchanting voice that swooned ladies back and forth. "Good morning, Epeiosa. Are you ready for another day? Come now, Mentor Agatha has readied some breakfast."

Simone de Angelo

The young Acanthus Mage walked by the shore of Endymion's Ocean, his dog Benny trotting behind him. It was only been a week since he stayed in Arcadia and he already misses the Fallen World. Despite the keen time sense of the Acanthus, he could only detect Endymion's own time flow. He didn't realize that it's already been a month outside. Simone was watching his footprints and Benny's footprints in the soft wet sand vanish as the gentle waves of the ocean sweep them away. "We're like sand in the face of the waves of Time..." He crouched down and started shaping the soft sand with his hands. It was very soft, almost like the toys that young children play with to exercise their creativity. Simone liked it here. It's where fantasies become real. His Awakening and his life as a Mage gave him hope in spite of his motherless past and drunk father raised life. The power of narration, of time, of luck, of fate are all at his hands. Astorias always told him to be careful and to be thoughtful of his magic. He was ecstatic of this change and he couldn't wait to try it out after all! Simone found the consequences the wrong way when he faced his first Paradox. Astorias was there to protect him and save him. What could have happened when the old Archmaster wasn't there? "How's Grandpa Astorias now...?" He whispered as Benny watched him shape a sandcastle in the image of the Watchtower of the Lunargent Thorn.

Demon Fox Riyoko

"Yes I can. It's a simple thing to do. In fact, atleast half of these papers have exploding fire Kami within them. Activating them is a matter of time." The Kitsune brought the glass of beer to her lips, sipping and drinking the cold golden liquid. "And an arsonist? You sure have the unique friends around, Connor. Oh well, who am I to judge?" Riyoko then giggled, a tinge of seductiveness in her voice that is as intoxicating as the pack's special beer. "I just need to mass produce these right? Do you not care about the civilian casualties that would result from our rampant terror attack?"

Alexei

The young man, whose name was revealed to be Alexei, kept calm as Silvanus greeted him and threatened his companions. His breathing did not increase, and he continued to stare the Malkavian in the eye. He knew that Silvanus was in a frenzy, and wanted to feed, but he was confident that he could calm him and maybe reach him. “...No...I have come here alone...” he explained, softly, “...and I have not come to harm you, Lord Silvanus...I am...looking for someone...a man whom I saw in a dream...someone who...spoke to me...I felt that he might be here, but I do not know why...” After a split second of hesitation, he reached-out to the Malkavian, and put a hand on his cheek. “...You do not have to attack me as though I am an enemy...I have only wandered here, alone and confused...I shall remain here with you until you are calm again, if you wish...” His eyes became distant and sad, as though he was lost in a fog of his own.

Epeiosa

“...O-Oh!...Yes, I’m coming!” Epeiosa initially did not recognize the voice Astorias used to call her. She was used to the kindly, gentle old man, and hearing Astorias speak with the strong, firm tone of a man much younger than he surprised her. In fact, Astorias-and Agatha-had demonstrated to her that they held far more secrets about themselves than she could imagine. Yet they were still both kind and loving to her, as she knew of these secrets and pondered on them. Maybe they trusted that she would not tell anyone.

Epeiosa found her sneakers and put them on her feet, before hurrying to the door and opening it. Astorias in his younger form also looked more handsome, and looking at him made the little Fae blush. Yet she knew he was her teacher, and thus she chased such thoughts away. “...Good morning, Lord Astorias!” she called, as she rushed past him, down the stairs to see Agatha.

Agatha was beautiful and wise, in a different way from Astorias, and when Epeiosa saw her, her usual reaction showed forth. The young Fae curtsied carefully, and spoke quietly. “...Good morning, Lady Agatha...Thank you for making me breakfast...” she greeted the Mage timidly. “What shall I learn today, Lady Agatha?...”

Endymion

Endymion watched Simone from a distance, smiling softly as he watched the young Mage walking with his little dog. Of course, he noted with dismay that the boy missed Astorias. Something about the illusion had not stuck, and so his grandfather was still a very familiar image in his mind. He would have to work harder to break their bond, to keep the boy within Arcadia and within the fabric of Endymion’s reign. Silently, he changed to his “mother” form, and walked across the beach until he met Simone. “...Good morning, Simone...my little dear...” “she” greeted, her gentle voice filling Simone’s (and Benny’s) ears. Endymion then picked up the small, fluffy dog in “her” arms, and carefully pet his fur. “...How are you today, my little one?...What are you thinking about?” she inquired.

Of course, at the sound of Endymion’s voice, Kannon rose in the water, in her magnificent and beautiful dragon form. Her baby was near her, tiny and blue like the rippling ocean beneath her. However, for the moment, both kept their distance. Kannon specifically wanted to watch Endymion and “her” actions. Unlike her monarch, Kannon worried for Simone, and for his relationship with his grandfather.

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Demon Fox Riyoko

"Yes I can. It's a simple thing to do. In fact, atleast half of these papers have exploding fire Kami within them. Activating them is a matter of time." The Kitsune brought the glass of beer to her lips, sipping and drinking the cold golden liquid. "And an arsonist? You sure have the unique friends around, Connor. Oh well, who am I to judge?" Riyoko then giggled, a tinge of seductiveness in her voice that is as intoxicating as the pack's special beer. "I just need to mass produce these right? Do you not care about the civilian casualties that would result from our rampant terror attack?"

Connor Mac Domhnail

"No no no, St. Michael is a bomb maker. Call him an arsonist and he'll probably be offended and rant about how he is different from a person who just throws gasoline around and them sets fire to it. Believe me, I made that mistake before. We call him Saint because he did this thing once...

So, first thing you need to know, guy studies bomb making. Like, that is his life. He sells it to other people too, but that's another topic. We were in Spain once, hunting down a group of Toreador vampires that messed with a Garou pack that was traveling through the Iberian Peninsula to form new alliances. But they had this haven, no way of invading it, and we knew that it was a vampire only place, very secretive. The plan was simple: Kill everyone inside, head out of the country, and that's it.

We whispered around that a relic was found and that it related to a distant, old vampire... Those Toreadores were crazy about it. The story developed by itself, but inside that relic, a small urn, St. Michael devised a bomb that would detonate the moment someone opened it. Believe me, the explosion wiped out every single Kindred there. Why I remember that? Precision. The plan was ours, but the merit was his. However he doesn't affiliate with people, but let's just say he owes me a certain favor. I called him a few hours ago, he was near here by coincidence."

Drinking the content that was left in his cup, Connor looked at the Kitsune and started to laugh.

"Of course I worry about the innocents! I might be a crazy murderous Garou, but I have rules to follow. I'll do it with enough security to not spill any innocent blood. We'll find a suitable target, adapt our hit to it and then we strike, I'm not going to simply bomb a place because I want to see the fireworks. And about my companies, well... They are unique, but only you manage to make me slightly crazy when you look at me that way."

[Imperialisium]

Anna's Residence

Anna took the cup back in her hands from the Magician. The droplets of Loretta's blood pooled at the bottom of the vessel. One might have suspected that she drink it, no, only the inexperienced in the ways of the blood and that of Cainite society would assume such. She just began to mouth a series of incantations. Incantations utterly foreign to the Magician, a different kind of magic, Thaumaturgy. The secret blood magic of Clan Tremere. She abruptly looked at Loretta as he spoke about how the vampire who embraced him and art galleries. How Loretta shot the vampire dead. Must not have been a low generation vampire with a higher relation to the Dark Father. Caine.

She looked into the cup and inhaled. "We engage in many activities. Some legal some not. The Camarilla's grasp is encompassing. Your job is to obey our Laws. I will show clemency to you in the form of possessions and wealth. Normally you would forfeit it all to me to dispense back to you or else ware as I see fit. So no, I don't have a specific job for you yet. You will go about your normal business. But tithe 30% of all gross profits to me from now on." She inhaled once more and let out a wry smile, "You have the blood of Toreador in your veins. You are no longer a Caitiff. A vagabond. You have a clan, but sadly no Primogen currently, and thus you will answer to my lieutenants or myself directly."

[Finsternia]

Silvanus

The old vampire looked at Alexei with ridicule, confusion, and laughter in his eyes. It was a dizzying motion, a swirling chaos in the sea of green, that would pull anyone deep into the singularity of madness and insanity. Primal thoughts seemed to crawl underneath the young Hunter's skin, like a prickling sensation that never ends. For Silvanus, he only smiled yet the edges of his face contorted with visible discomfort. "Alexei... You are a moron to come in here without any defences... I didn't teach you to be reckless and so did your own Order, did I?" The Malkavian Elder leaned in closer, any other shred of personal space was violated and claimed, and any objections are to be punished. Alexei would find at least a couple of Malkavians peeking by the door of the room. Fear was evident in their eyes and they'd rather not be caught up in this situation.

"Alexei... Would you be so kind to bring me something to eat? My stomach hungers for sustenance... My throat is parched and my tongue craves for rejuvenation... I need... blood... Alexei... Bring me blood..." Suddenly, Silvanus stood up and his scorpion like bladed tails writhed in the air with agitation. "Mikhailov! Where is my breakfast! Michael! MICHAEL!" The walls seemed to warp and shake at his every word. Each distressed call sent shivers down the spine of any sentient being within the establishment. Whether one was undead or one of the living, a chilling touch ravaged one's nerves. "Food... Food... Vitae... I NEED BLOOD! GIVE ME MY SUSTENANCE!" The Malkavian Primogen howled, seemingly in a painful restrain as his tails slashed violently around the place, busting the wooden door and revealing a hallway filled with concerned Malkavians. "Ahahaha... Blood... Look at all these walking blood bags... All just for me..."

Sage Astorias

Agatha still seemed to be huddling close to the hearth and enjoying her morning chocolate as Epeiosa landed down the last step of the stairs. "Good morning, young lass. I am hoping that you have slept pretty well within my humble abode once again? Come over here and join me for morning coffee. The sprites will arrive soon to deliver our breakfast." The ancient Mage gestured towards the empty seat just beside her where an already piping hot cup of coffee has been placed on one of its arms. Astorias, meanwhile, has been steadily walking down the stairs with a dejected look on his face. "Astorias, quit making that face of yours dear. Even if you're that handsome in your youth, your ugly, wrinkled and warty old face has been stamped on Epeiosa's mind. Stop your advances on her."

The Sage lifted his head up and waved his hands in a gesture of denial. "Mentor, it's not like that! I've been using my age as a disguise for the sake of a reason to mingle with the Sleepers. I have found out that old age makes you more sympathetic to the eyes of Sleepers. Even the females..." He said as he made an undignified face. It rather helps that he looks younger, almost like a playboy in his 20s, rather than a lecherous old man that someone would definitely keep behind locked doors. Agatha simply frowned and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Epeiosa, for your training today, I have a question to ask you... Do you love the Fallen World and its imperfections? Do you want to be a Mage like Astorias and I?"

Simone de Angelo

The young mage smiled at Endymion who came by to approach him. The sand tower beneath his hands slowly took form into a graceful, shifting spire covered with traces of thorns and roses. It looked like an ancient tower where a princess is caged, locked, and hidden away from the world who was just waiting for her fated prince to save her from distress. Yet the Watchtower of the Lunargent Thorn isn't a kind, dreamy tower like those of the fairy tales. It was a symbol of wonder, yes, but it is first and foremost the symbol of time and fate. The inevitable nature of time and its absolute iron rule and the almighty dominating power of fate. It look all of Simone's courage to climb the Watchtower of Arcadia. By the end of the line, he reached the top, his body battered and bleeding yet the smile on his face triumphant. He was welcomed by the powers above and embraced him as he signed his name in covenant with his thorn torned hand and his running scarlet blood. It was a memory he could never forget.

"Good morning, Lord Endymion..." Simone muttered softly with a gentle smile. The sound of crackling could be heard by Endymion as the Mage has seen through his illusion of a mother. "I know that it is you... And thank you for giving me comfort... Thank you for letting me see my mother once again, even if her fate has been sealed long ago..." The young Mage is still sitting down on the wet shores, the waves of the Ocean meeting his legs and feet while trying to destroy his recreation of the Watchtower. Yet he still persevered as every tide and wave made the tower stand taller and stronger. "What should be our lessons today, my Lord?"

Demon Fox Riyoko

"Espania? Looks like I don't know much of my pack leader and newly found mate. That plan is a very brilliant one, I'll give you that satisfaction. However, here in Los Angeles, I want you to know that the risk of killing innocents with this tactic is at large. If we want to target Silvanus' holdings, key enterprises, and strategic footholds, we need to face the consequences of the disturbance of public peace. I am an assassin, Connor, not an arsonist but if all out destruction is the best way to annihilate the enemy, then so be it."

The Kitsune stood up, finished her cup, and swayed towards her pack leader. "And yes, you're a little crazy. That tinge of blood on your body was something that got me into you." Riyoko suddenly grabbed the Irish man's shirt and pulled him into a sloppy and rough kiss before abruptly ending it like how it started. "A little taste test for my little wolf. If your friend would entertain me with his pyrotechnic knowledge, perhaps I could reward you even more baby."

[Luminesa]

Silvanus

The old vampire looked at Alexei with ridicule, confusion, and laughter in his eyes. It was a dizzying motion, a swirling chaos in the sea of green, that would pull anyone deep into the singularity of madness and insanity. Primal thoughts seemed to crawl underneath the young Hunter's skin, like a prickling sensation that never ends. For Silvanus, he only smiled yet the edges of his face contorted with visible discomfort. "Alexei... You are a moron to come in here without any defences... I didn't teach you to be reckless and so did your own Order, did I?" The Malkavian Elder leaned in closer, any other shred of personal space was violated and claimed, and any objections are to be punished. Alexei would find at least a couple of Malkavians peeking by the door of the room. Fear was evident in their eyes and they'd rather not be caught up in this situation.

"Alexei... Would you be so kind to bring me something to eat? My stomach hungers for sustenance... My throat is parched and my tongue craves for rejuvenation... I need... blood... Alexei... Bring me blood..." Suddenly, Silvanus stood up and his scorpion like bladed tails writhed in the air with agitation. "Mikhailov! Where is my breakfast! Michael! MICHAEL!" The walls seemed to warp and shake at his every word. Each distressed call sent shivers down the spine of any sentient being within the establishment. Whether one was undead or one of the living, a chilling touch ravaged one's nerves. "Food... Food... Vitae... I NEED BLOOD! GIVE ME MY SUSTENANCE!" The Malkavian Primogen howled, seemingly in a painful restrain as his tails slashed violently around the place, busting the wooden door and revealing a hallway filled with concerned Malkavians. "Ahahaha... Blood... Look at all these walking blood bags... All just for me..."

Sage Astorias

Agatha still seemed to be huddling close to the hearth and enjoying her morning chocolate as Epeiosa landed down the last step of the stairs. "Good morning, young lass. I am hoping that you have slept pretty well within my humble abode once again? Come over here and join me for morning coffee. The sprites will arrive soon to deliver our breakfast." The ancient Mage gestured towards the empty seat just beside her where an already piping hot cup of coffee has been placed on one of its arms. Astorias, meanwhile, has been steadily walking down the stairs with a dejected look on his face. "Astorias, quit making that face of yours dear. Even if you're that handsome in your youth, your ugly, wrinkled and warty old face has been stamped on Epeiosa's mind. Stop your advances on her."

The Sage lifted his head up and waved his hands in a gesture of denial. "Mentor, it's not like that! I've been using my age as a disguise for the sake of a reason to mingle with the Sleepers. I have found out that old age makes you more sympathetic to the eyes of Sleepers. Even the females..." He said as he made an undignified face. It rather helps that he looks younger, almost like a playboy in his 20s, rather than a lecherous old man that someone would definitely keep behind locked doors. Agatha simply frowned and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Epeiosa, for your training today, I have a question to ask you... Do you love the Fallen World and its imperfections? Do you want to be a Mage like Astorias and I?"

Simone de Angelo

The young mage smiled at Endymion who came by to approach him. The sand tower beneath his hands slowly took form into a graceful, shifting spire covered with traces of thorns and roses. It looked like an ancient tower where a princess is caged, locked, and hidden away from the world who was just waiting for her fated prince to save her from distress. Yet the Watchtower of the Lunargent Thorn isn't a kind, dreamy tower like those of the fairy tales. It was a symbol of wonder, yes, but it is first and foremost the symbol of time and fate. The inevitable nature of time and its absolute iron rule and the almighty dominating power of fate. It look all of Simone's courage to climb the Watchtower of Arcadia. By the end of the line, he reached the top, his body battered and bleeding yet the smile on his face triumphant. He was welcomed by the powers above and embraced him as he signed his name in covenant with his thorn torned hand and his running scarlet blood. It was a memory he could never forget.

"Good morning, Lord Endymion..." Simone muttered softly with a gentle smile. The sound of crackling could be heard by Endymion as the Mage has seen through his illusion of a mother. "I know that it is you... And thank you for giving me comfort... Thank you for letting me see my mother once again, even if her fate has been sealed long ago..." The young Mage is still sitting down on the wet shores, the waves of the Ocean meeting his legs and feet while trying to destroy his recreation of the Watchtower. Yet he still persevered as every tide and wave made the tower stand taller and stronger. "What should be our lessons today, my Lord?"

Demon Fox Riyoko

"Espania? Looks like I don't know much of my pack leader and newly found mate. That plan is a very brilliant one, I'll give you that satisfaction. However, here in Los Angeles, I want you to know that the risk of killing innocents with this tactic is at large. If we want to target Silvanus' holdings, key enterprises, and strategic footholds, we need to face the consequences of the disturbance of public peace. I am an assassin, Connor, not an arsonist but if all out destruction is the best way to annihilate the enemy, then so be it."

The Kitsune stood up, finished her cup, and swayed towards her pack leader. "And yes, you're a little crazy. That tinge of blood on your body was something that got me into you." Riyoko suddenly grabbed the Irish man's shirt and pulled him into a sloppy and rough kiss before abruptly ending it like how it started. "A little taste test for my little wolf. If your friend would entertain me with his pyrotechnic knowledge, perhaps I could reward you even more baby."

Alexei

Silvanus still continued to lean close to Alexei, invading his personal space and seemingly attempting to get the young man to fight him. He saw that his attempts to calm Silvanus were not working, due to his hunger. He could even feel Silvanus’s primal thoughts seeping into his mind, almost as though Silvanus himself had been also trying to communicate and felt his own pleas had not been heard. A beast with a mouth full of sharp, bloody teeth lurching its way toward an innocent lamb dying on the ground. A prisoner in an ancient jail, full of corpses, screaming for his life and for release. A nest of snakes writhing and hissing in pain...

He frowned, staring at Silvanus and trying to ignore the images swirling around in his head. As Silvanus finally pulled himself off Alexei and began to run around the room, Alexei himself stood and watched the vampire. He did not recognize any of the names Silvanus screeched, but he knew that should anyone enter the room, they would put themselves in grave danger. Hence why not a single one of Silvanus’s fellow Malkavians entered the room. Yet there was no telling whether or not Silvanus himself would simply decide to leave, and would terrorize the city in search of blood. The Masquerade would be compromised, and untold numbers of innocents would be hurt...

Alexei sighed, and looked around the room. Walking toward a drawer-and finally noticing the bodies of the Dolls whom Silvanus had puppeteered-he found a knife. He shuddered briefly at the sight of them, but Silvanus’s screams jolted him into remembering his objective. He had to calm the mad vampire however he could. Taking the knife, then, he carefully cut a small slit into his index finger. “...Silvanus...” he whispered, hoping his call would be heard, “...there is no need for all of this. Come, calm yourself...” He held out his finger, hoping the small amount of blood would be enough to pull the vampire out of his frenzy. If it did not, the next step would be ugly...

Epeiosa

“Yes m’am! Coming!” Bursting with enthusiasm already, Epeiosa hurried to meet Agatha. She curtsied before the old Archmage, before she sat down next to him to wait for her coffee. She smiled at the Mage, who almost seemed now to be like the mother she had never had. Endymion could masquerade as a loving mother, but Agatha almost seemed like a real mother. Her warmth and her nurturing nature calmed the little Fae, while at the same time making her eager to please Agatha.

As Agatha reprimanded Astorias for showing Epeiosa his younger form, the Fae herself felt embarrassed to a degree. She blushed, and she waved her hands as well. “No, no, he was not flirting with me! I just saw him and thought he looked handsome! I mean, you know, like, like the strong and powerful knight that you hear about in stories...um...” Yet Agatha seemed to smooth over the situation quite well, and Epeiosa sighed her relief as the Archmage changed the subject. “...Yes, m’am...I...I do love the Fallen World! It is...fascinating! And...yes! I do want to be a Mage!...Please, Lady Agatha, what shall you teach me today?...” Her eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement, as she took Lady Agatha’s hand and awaited her response.

Endymion

The vision Simone had created for himself did not pass Endymion’s eyes unobserved, and he watched as the little Mage formed the beautiful castle out of his sandcastle. He smiled as he witnessed Simone climbing through the thorns and the roses, reaching for the top of the tower-his enlightenment. Endymion could not help but feel a familial love stirring in his heart, as he watched the Mage, bloodied-but-not-broken, standing at the top of the tower. “...Ah yes...your awakening...such a sweet memory for every Mage who desires such Enlightenment...is it not?” he whispered.

Yet as Simone completed the vision, Endymion felt a crack. He looked at his hand-the crack was on his own body. He frowned, and turned to Simone. The little boy had seen through his illusion Endymion had made, in order to keep Simone believing the Fae was his mother. The Fae did not fight against this loss, however. The Fabric had to be mended now. Thus he returned to his “normal” form, and smiled gently at Simone. “...Oh my dear little Mage...I would do anything to comfort you...to make this place a home for you...I know...you have wanted such a home for so long...” he whispered, his deep, smooth voice gliding through the air around them. He scratched Benny behind the ears, and then placed the dog on the ground next to its master.

“...And I shall continue to make this realm a home for you...its secrets shall soon become yours...” He held up a hand, and showed an image of another tower in the clouds, yet one that pierced the clouds and lead into Heaven. “...Perfect Enlightenment. Perfect love. That is ultimately where I shall lead you. As for today...” He allowed the vision to fade, and he held his hand toward Simone. “...You will learn now only how to create things from love...but also...how to destroy...to destroy any lack of love that seeks to enter within your own realm...take my hand. I foresee this lesson shall not be easy for you...but we shall take your development one step at a time...” Endymion glowed cautiously, careful not to release the entirety of the light within until Simone was ready for what came next. The vision was already in the Fae’s mind, and reflected in his eyes. What he was about to demonstrate would be painful for both himself and for Simone...

Kannon seemed to know what would come next as well, as she remained in the water far away. Her baby made a soft yelping sound like a kitten, and rubbed its skinny, dragonic body against its mother’s chest. “Yes my little love, I am afraid as well...Shall our lord Endymion show him...the most painful secrets of our realm?...What shall he show poor Simone?...We must be ready...in case we fear...the little Mage may be broken...” The Dragon’s motherly instinct drove her and her baby to move somewhat closer, so they could watch the vision unfold.

[True Christopia]

Anna's Residence

Anna took the cup back in her hands from the Magician. The droplets of Loretta's blood pooled at the bottom of the vessel. One might have suspected that she drink it, no, only the inexperienced in the ways of the blood and that of Cainite society would assume such. She just began to mouth a series of incantations. Incantations utterly foreign to the Magician, a different kind of magic, Thaumaturgy. The secret blood magic of Clan Tremere. She abruptly looked at Loretta as he spoke about how the vampire who embraced him and art galleries. How Loretta shot the vampire dead. Must not have been a low generation vampire with a higher relation to the Dark Father. Caine.

She looked into the cup and inhaled. "We engage in many activities. Some legal some not. The Camarilla's grasp is encompassing. Your job is to obey our Laws. I will show clemency to you in the form of possessions and wealth. Normally you would forfeit it all to me to dispense back to you or else ware as I see fit. So no, I don't have a specific job for you yet. You will go about your normal business. But tithe 30% of all gross profits to me from now on." She inhaled once more and let out a wry smile, "You have the blood of Toreador in your veins. You are no longer a Caitiff. A vagabond. You have a clan, but sadly no Primogen currently, and thus you will answer to my lieutenants or myself directly."

Loretta

"Obey the laws, got it. Answer to you or your lieutenants, yeah. Thirty percent." he muttered them, keeping track. Thirty percent was larger than he'd like, but he wasn't about to argue - he'd have to expand operations to keep afloat, it seemed. Loretta was still utterly awed by the displays of magic and the unnatural. Never had he even thought that they were possible, but it seemed his entire life had been flipped around that night.

"So are there others like me? A - er - Toreador? Why no Primogen?"

[Luminesa]

Anna's Residence

Anna took the cup back in her hands from the Magician. The droplets of Loretta's blood pooled at the bottom of the vessel. One might have suspected that she drink it, no, only the inexperienced in the ways of the blood and that of Cainite society would assume such. She just began to mouth a series of incantations. Incantations utterly foreign to the Magician, a different kind of magic, Thaumaturgy. The secret blood magic of Clan Tremere. She abruptly looked at Loretta as he spoke about how the vampire who embraced him and art galleries. How Loretta shot the vampire dead. Must not have been a low generation vampire with a higher relation to the Dark Father. Caine.

She looked into the cup and inhaled. "We engage in many activities. Some legal some not. The Camarilla's grasp is encompassing. Your job is to obey our Laws. I will show clemency to you in the form of possessions and wealth. Normally you would forfeit it all to me to dispense back to you or else ware as I see fit. So no, I don't have a specific job for you yet. You will go about your normal business. But tithe 30% of all gross profits to me from now on." She inhaled once more and let out a wry smile, "You have the blood of Toreador in your veins. You are no longer a Caitiff. A vagabond. You have a clan, but sadly no Primogen currently, and thus you will answer to my lieutenants or myself directly."

Loretta

"Obey the laws, got it. Answer to you or your lieutenants, yeah. Thirty percent." he muttered them, keeping track. Thirty percent was larger than he'd like, but he wasn't about to argue - he'd have to expand operations to keep afloat, it seemed. Loretta was still utterly awed by the displays of magic and the unnatural. Never had he even thought that they were possible, but it seemed his entire life had been flipped around that night.

"So are there others like me? A - er - Toreador? Why no Primogen?"

“The Toreador Primogen suffered an unfortunate accident as of recently,” Mikhailov added, taking a risk at explaining the situation to Loretta, “but that is nothing with which you need to concern yourself. Should you follow the Prince’s commands and protect the Traditions, I believe you should have a rather easy existence.” He turned his eye to look over his shoulder at Loretta, smiling mysteriously toward him. Whether or not he was withholding information from Loretta could not be seen, but his hypnotic gaze seemed to keep Loretta hooked no matter what he said. “All of the gold, the art, the women, and the luxury you could want. All you have to do is whatever the Prince requires of you without question. I’m sure that will not be hard, given the reward is so great.”

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Demon Fox Riyoko

"Espania? Looks like I don't know much of my pack leader and newly found mate. That plan is a very brilliant one, I'll give you that satisfaction. However, here in Los Angeles, I want you to know that the risk of killing innocents with this tactic is at large. If we want to target Silvanus' holdings, key enterprises, and strategic footholds, we need to face the consequences of the disturbance of public peace. I am an assassin, Connor, not an arsonist but if all out destruction is the best way to annihilate the enemy, then so be it."

The Kitsune stood up, finished her cup, and swayed towards her pack leader. "And yes, you're a little crazy. That tinge of blood on your body was something that got me into you." Riyoko suddenly grabbed the Irish man's shirt and pulled him into a sloppy and rough kiss before abruptly ending it like how it started. "A little taste test for my little wolf. If your friend would entertain me with his pyrotechnic knowledge, perhaps I could reward you even more baby."

Connor Mac Domhnaill

"Then I think you should already give you my reward, Riyoko. Without any false modesty, he is talented as he is... peculiar. However, I'll warn you that he doesn't share my good looks and irresistible charm. Something happened wit him, so his appearance is... well, different. Even with our healing gift he never returned to normal."

Soon as Connor took one step in the direction of the alluring Kitsune, he heard steps on the stairs. No one was invited to join them, so who could it be? The sound came closer to the door, to a point where Connor was ready to attack. At the turn of the doorknob, he clenched his fist ready to punch a possible silent invader...

And then he stopped. Michael appeared earlier than Connor expected. As the pack leader said, Michael had scars, but no description would match that. His right hand and forearm were severely burned, flesh distorted by a possible accident while he worked with his bombs. His face had a distinct burn mark that started at his chin, and went all the way to the side of his head, and his ear was nothing more than a small hole: The external part of his ear certainly disappeared in the same occurrence that gave him such scars. His glasses had small marks of ashes. The foggy lenses managed to hide the brown eyes, that matched perfectly with a long, brown hair that grew in the parts of his head that weren't affected by his accident. Placing his bag on the ground, the man closed the door behind him, and with a tired voice, stated.

"- You I know Connor. I take that she's the one you're sleeping with while you're holed up in this town. I heard news about your achievements in this Kindred filled place. Tell me, why did you call me?

- Good day to you, Michael. How's the family going? Do you want anything to drink? Maybe a bread to eat? Eh, never worked with you anyways. She's Riyoko. I called you here because... Well, we're at war with the vampires. Sabbat are nearly extinct, Kuei-Jin are kind of inactive... And the one person between us and the Prince around here is the Malkavian Primogen. He uses those... dolls, I guess that's the name, to attack his foes so he can stay holed up having a nice chat and a cup of tea with the crazy voices inside his even crazier head. That's it. So we are going to find a place of high importance, sneak a bomb inside and boom."

Silence filled the room for a few minutes, before Michael started to laugh. Taking his glasses off and literally throwing them against the wall behind Connor, the man started to shout while keeping a noticeable smile across his face.

"- ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, CONNOR? A MALKAVIAN PRIMOGEN? THAT LEARNED A DISCIPLINE THAT'S NOT EVEN FROM HIS CLAN? THIS IS THE ONE YOU ARE TRYING TO KILL? LIKE, YOU COULDN'T JUST KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN AND LOOK FOR LESS IMPORTANT TARGETS?

- Yes, yes, yes. Don't act like you are hating the idea, Riyoko here will help you with it. Now, you got work to do, take a cab and go to the docks. You'll work there, better to hide your accidents and to keep tools around. Any other questions?

- No. But I want to hear the Kitsune over there. I don't like Kitsunes. They are too deceptive for my taste. What do you think of it? What's your interest on being involved in this plan that certainly came from an alcohol fueled night? Because no one sane would even admit the possibility of EXPLODING a place owned by a Kindred of a clan that is known across the world for being mad people."

[Imperialisium]

Anna's Residence

Anna took the cup back in her hands from the Magician. The droplets of Loretta's blood pooled at the bottom of the vessel. One might have suspected that she drink it, no, only the inexperienced in the ways of the blood and that of Cainite society would assume such. She just began to mouth a series of incantations. Incantations utterly foreign to the Magician, a different kind of magic, Thaumaturgy. The secret blood magic of Clan Tremere. She abruptly looked at Loretta as he spoke about how the vampire who embraced him and art galleries. How Loretta shot the vampire dead. Must not have been a low generation vampire with a higher relation to the Dark Father. Caine.

She looked into the cup and inhaled. "We engage in many activities. Some legal some not. The Camarilla's grasp is encompassing. Your job is to obey our Laws. I will show clemency to you in the form of possessions and wealth. Normally you would forfeit it all to me to dispense back to you or else ware as I see fit. So no, I don't have a specific job for you yet. You will go about your normal business. But tithe 30% of all gross profits to me from now on." She inhaled once more and let out a wry smile, "You have the blood of Toreador in your veins. You are no longer a Caitiff. A vagabond. You have a clan, but sadly no Primogen currently, and thus you will answer to my lieutenants or myself directly."

Loretta

"Obey the laws, got it. Answer to you or your lieutenants, yeah. Thirty percent." he muttered them, keeping track. Thirty percent was larger than he'd like, but he wasn't about to argue - he'd have to expand operations to keep afloat, it seemed. Loretta was still utterly awed by the displays of magic and the unnatural. Never had he even thought that they were possible, but it seemed his entire life had been flipped around that night.

"So are there others like me? A - er - Toreador? Why no Primogen?"

Anna's Residence

Anna cocked and eye brow and smirked. Her lecturing tone swiftly turning to that of a professor scolding a student, "Of course there are others like you! I said clan didn't I!" She let out a sighed, sitting back onto the couch behind her, and fixed a strand of her raven black hair. "The Toreador primogen perished in the unfortunate evening that saw the deaths of practically every Toreador in Los Angeles. The Tuscanova Restaurant fire you may have heard on the news. It was not just any freak gas leak fire." Anna leaned back into the couch before continuing. "You have no primogen because the Toreador is all but extinct in Los Angeles. The few scant survivors do not possess the knowledge, skills, and age to call themselves an Elder; or even hold the pretense of becoming a Primogen worthy of the title."

Behind them the doors opened and in walked Kai. He carried some papers. Reports drawn up of the various happenings in Los Angeles. Anna flicked her eyes from the Magician and to Loretta, "Do you have any pressing questions? As our time for the night together is drawing to a close. I will send an emissary to inspect your holdings soon Loretta, keep that in mind. If there are no questions you are dismissed."

[Finsternia]

Silvanus

Blood in the presence of a frenzied vampire is never a good idea. Alexei might have thought that the scent of trickling blood would calm down Silvanus and have him beg like a dog or lapping at the wound like a nice kitten. Alexei might have done it because of his kind heart and with great intentions to calm down the enraged Elder but it was a mistake. A mistake that could cull his life short alongside the Malkavians that gawked at the scene from the other side of the door. When the scent of fresh blood drifted towards Silvanus, the cacophony of eternally present voices went silent. The Malkavians peered in fear, their mouths agape in a silent scream of horror. Silvanus stood still, stiff and agitated, with his back towards Alexei. The scorpion tails that sprouted out of his back then spread outwards like a frightening band of four cobras, ready to strike anytime. The shielded membranes shook violently as the grotesque eyes opened, each of them staring down at the young Hunter. For a few moments, it was just that. Silence, tension, the unnerving stare of the eyes. And then, it happened.

Out of nowhere, a loud crack echoed in the room. Silvanus' head swiftly turned a 180 degrees, facing Alexei with his back still towards him. His grin was nothing but malevolent. It was stretched literally from ear to ear and his teeth would make even the Tyrannosaurus Rex hide in shame. "A... lex... ei..." The ancient vampire muttered the Hunter's name, his green eyes shining with bright light. "Thank you... for the food..." In an instant, the room warped like how dough would be stretched over and over. Even the Malkavians couldn't handle the mental strain and one by one they dropped unconscious, bleeding at every possible orifice. Silvanus wasted no time as his frame glitched and reappeared in front of Alexei, his mouth stretching and opening into an impossible degree as even his neck parted to show teeth, horrible horrible teeth, down his shoulders as the vampire is just seconds and inches away from biting off the Hunter's arm off.